- You get awards (which is always nice) for doing what you do (and love doing) anyway. You get to create a home and decorate it with lomowalls, you hang out with friends and you can participate in contests.
- The cameras are the love. I own 3 (Diana Mini, Diana + Edelweiss Edition, Lubitel 2). And I want more Diana clones because they are so pretty. Also, they'll probably differ from mine, this being in the nature of them being made out of plastic, allowing for them being individuals and unpredictable most of the time. Just like us people. My Diana Mini e.g. sucks at transporting film. This is okay, I have my faults as well.
- The people behind Lomography are clever. Instead of saying "Look, you buy a plastic camera (e.g. Diana) with a plastic lens, of course your photos will lack sharpness and will look weird." They say "This is what its about. Character, surprise, no need to worry about messing up (oh so liberating) because there are no mistakes, just art. Just have fun, cross-process because who needs natural colors anyway."
As someone who delights in using expired film, this suits me fine. Also they do not lie. You will meet random strangers on the street who will be fascinated by that strange little camera dangling from your neck or that loud winder. So, you want to make friends? Grab a brightly colored Lomo Cam. - It is so liberating. Just do whatever the hell you want. Shoot from the hip. Follow the Golden Rules. Especially the last one, which states that there are no rules. Grab a camera that fits your personality. The Action Sampler maybe? Or the Horizon? It's there.
- Take a break from soulless digital. Don't get me wrong, I love my Canon 5D Mark ii. I couldn't work without it, its flawless and great. But I also have to work my behind off to edit the photos to suit my understanding of ... soul. Character. Life. I always get the feeling with film photography. And with Lomography, it is simply life. Unpredictable, colorful, flawed, beautiful, messy, dark, light, fast.
I cannot wait to pick up my next film.













































