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Film Diary: Amsterdam & Brussels through a Diana Baby 110

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For my birthday last year, I got myself a Diana Baby from the Lomography Embassy Store in Amsterdam. I’ve always wanted a Diana, and this seemed to be the perfect thing, since it was so small (it is a 110 film camera) that I owned absolutely no duplicates of it. That first photo is the first one I took with it—a multi-x of my face and the apartment we had rented out for the short duration we were there.

I really miss Amsterdam. It was my favorite stop.

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This is the area in which we stayed in. We stayed quite a bit of ways away from the city center. I don’t think we even went to the Red Light District, but I didn’t want to go there with my parents, so I guess that’s kind of a blessing.

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We had breakfast in this coffee shop on my birthday, and I had a birthday bagel—cream cheese with chives.

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Me, my sister, and my brother.

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Walking in beautiful Amsterdam. <3 Untitled
Speaking in terms of ease of use, this camera is awesome. I think it’s not a necessary one or the best pick if you had to pick only the essentials, but if you want a small and compact camera that churns out little squares of prettiness (Instagram, cough), this is your guy.

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The cons I see here are that it doesn’t do so well in indoor, low-light environments, and it costs so much money for a roll of 24 shots. Still, I’m one of those nutters who’d dare declare it “worth it.” There’s always been a certain charm to film photographs. I find that there is a bit of a quietness about them, a genuine stillness that is hard to replicate with digital photography.

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(Fourteen is missing. I wonder why. I WANT TO KNOW WHAT THAT LIGHT LEAK IS OBSCURING.)

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Sometimes, it’s inevitable for you to miss some potentially lovely shots, but that’s OK, too.

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This is the train station we went on to go from Amsterdam to Brussels, which we walked around in for a few hours, while waiting for the train to London, which I realize I hadn’t even written about yet. For shame~ Just kidding. I think I got overwhelmed with updating. It happens.

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Stepping out of the train station. We left our bags at the train lockers, so all I had with me were some film cameras—this one, and a Nikon FM2. This was after the moment we realized that Tintin was Belgian and not French.

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See?

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Fin.