Did you grow up like me? Right on the edge of something shifting, or developing (pun intended).

Not dramatically. Not all at once. But quietly… and then all at once. See if this sounds familiar:

Cameras were always around when I was growing up. The kind where you loaded a roll of film and had exactly 12, 24, or 36 chances to get it right. No previews. No second guesses.

You took the pictures.
You finished the roll.
And then you waited.

You’d drop it off at the grocery store or the pharmacy, usually Walgreens, in one of those little envelopes with the peel-and-seal flap. And then you waited some more.

Developing usually took a week or so. Sometimes it was really 2 weeks, but only because it was easy to forget to pick it up. Fancy places offered a 3-day turnaround.
Later, it became “one-hour photo,” which felt like absolute magic.

And then you got the pictures back.

The moment of truth.

Was Aunt Betty Sue accidentally decapitated?
Did little Billy have glowing red eyes?
Was the whole thing blurry because someone moved?

You didn’t know until it was done. You just hoped for the best.

And then somewhere in the early to mid-90s, things started to shift.

Disposable cameras showed up.
Mail-in cameras.
You could take the pictures, send the whole camera in, and then log in later to see what turned out.

And for the first time, you could choose.

If Aunt Betty Sue’s head was missing? Skip it.
If the lighting was off? Skip it.
If one actually turned out well? Order that one.

No more paying for the whole batch just to get two decent photos.

People got creative with it too. I remember weddings where disposable cameras were placed on every table so guests could capture the day from their perspective. Then everything got sent in, sorted, and turned into albums.

Honestly… brilliant.

And then around 1997–1999, everything shifted again.

Digital cameras became available to regular people.

Not just professionals. Not just businesses. Regular families.

And in my family?

The target market = my dad.

Right around the time SuperHubs and I got married and started having kids, my dad bought his first digital camera. And that was the beginning of everything.

Looking back, I realize I grew up in this very narrow window where we went from:

Film → Disposable → Mail-in → Digital → Eventually phones

All in what felt like a blink.

And that timeline matters.

Because it’s the beginning of the story of how we took pictures…

and what we did (or didn’t do) with them.

We didn’t take thousands of shots like we do now — we chose what mattered.

And somewhere along the way, I started wanting to get back to that… not necessarily fewer photos, but more meaning.

That’s what I’ve been working on lately.

It will be shared in a short, 30-minute gathering tonight (Monday, March 23, 2026) —what I’m doing with my photos now and how I’m approaching about them differently.

It’s simple, relaxed, and you’re invited.