On my second to last day in Korea, I was teaching a workshop with my good buddy Eric. Usually during these things I try not to take a lot of a photos. It was a little different this time though.
Being my second to last day in a country I spent four years in. We were in Myeongdong, a place I had shot in numerous times. Nothing special on this day aside from circumstance.
I also shot the next day as well. One roll of film.
After spending the next week travelling and getting settled the film didn’t get processed. Stowed away in a bag full of stuff I neglected for a year and a half I pulled out the single roll last week.
After having the negatives scanned, I forgot about them again. Weird thing, that.
When I finally got around to looking at the files I couldn’t help but feel strangely nostalgic. Considering how many photos I’d taken in Korea, it was weirder yet to feel attached to these frames the most.
I suppose its something to do with the time. A year is a long time to let images permeate.
So much has happened since taking these photos.
I can hardly remember taking them, if at all. Maybe that’s why I appreciate them so much? It’s like looking at photos I might take as opposed to ones I did.
While caused by stupidity and laziness, it was an interesting experiment.
These were the first seven frames I pulled out of the roll.
Eight to fourteen on Monday.
I think you probably also derive more pleasure from (re)discovering these images after all the time that has passed in between. I especially like the photos of the girl in the mirror/reflection and of the young men smoking on the street.