Grace Carsello's Blog

For this last (?) post, I decided to release sneak peaks of my unfinished/scrapped blog ideas. In reflection of this year’s content, the effort behind my blogs has varied greatly— some of them required painstaking photo-uploading while others were influenced by the looming 11:59 deadline. I did my best to enjoy the assignment as well as not publicly embarrass myself, resulting in several blog posts that never came to fruition. Here we go! 

Anecdotes:

For this idea, I wanted to feature a jumble of anecdotes (if you can’t tell from the structure of this blog, I love collages and compilations), but I realized that if I spoiled all my stories in one go, I wouldn’t have any more content for my daily life. Here’s a sneak peak of some of the stories I almost divulged: 

• The Sprite Steal
• Mouse Invasion (Part 1: Removal; Part 2: Christmas Tree) 
• Car crash!
• Failed football game infiltration 
• The worst chemistry partner 
• The best mac and cheese ever 

Feel free to ask for elaboration the next time the conversation runs dry!

Recent Reads:

Before being shackled by my 588 page Voices novel, I had recently read some interesting books in my free time and wanted to share my thoughts: 

Violeta: I have a history of avoiding historical fiction, but recently I strive to embrace it (in part, due to this book). I really enjoyed Violeta— Allende’s writing has an air of intelligence and romance that entertained me throughout the century of Violeta Del Valle’s life. The protagonist held an interesting perspective on romance, relationships, and independence, and I loved reading about her growth under a tumultuous government. 

Someone who will love you in all your damaged glory: This book was a collection of stories written by the creator of BoJack Horseman. I haven’t watched the show, but reading this made me want to. Not all the stories entertained me, but multiple struck gold (personal favorites were: A most blessed and auspicious occasion; We Men of Science; and missed connection). This collection frequently made me laugh yet also managed to blow my mind. At worst, this book was highly innovative and unique.

Speak, Okinawa: This memoir was incredible. Written both about Brina’s personal history as well as the history of Okinawan people, it conveys emotion alongside education. Besides my passion for her writing style, I also loved this book for personal reasons. My grandma immigrated from Okinawa to the U.S. fifty years ago with a story similar to Brina’s mom, so reading about their experiences made me feel a little closer to my grandma and my dad. It was exciting to see her island as the title of this mainstream book. 

Books from my childhood:

With this idea, I wanted to indulge myself by reminiscing about some nostalgic reads. Titles included Peach Boy, Strega Nona, Amelia Bedelia, Frosty the Snowman, Tacky the Penguin, as well as some deserved hatred for Junie B. Jones (Sorry, not sorry if that is controversial). 

Cooking:

Perhaps my most attempted blog idea was one on cooking. My planning doc amassed 797 words and six well-chosen images that never saw the light of day. Until now: 

Cooking, for me, has always been a means to an end. Whatever was most efficient, to sate a growling stomach and move on. 

When my brothers and I were little, my grandma watched us every Tuesday and Thursday while my mom worked part time. The couch was my grandma’s home base, and I watched along with her soap opera and cooking shows: Barefoot Contessa, Chopped, the Young and the Restless, Cutthroat Kitchen, and the Bold and the Beautiful, deeply familiar with Rachael Ray, Bobby Flay, Scott Clifton, Guy Fieri, Joshua Morrow, Amelia Heinle, and Anne Burrell. 

Our own food was less dramatic than the TV showings; dinners were a consistent rotation of kraft mac and cheese or fish sticks with tater tots. Much drama ensued if you did not finish your cup of milk— a risk my older brother often took, consequenced with my grandma’s wrath. 

My mom provided more nutritional diversity to our palettes, feeding us pasta, salmon, burgers, shrimp stir fry, etc. She was always the one calling us to dinner, completed with rice and/or veggies. 

My dad is considerably less skilled. His cooking repertoire consists of instant ramen and Lean Cuisine (microwavable). Once, he tried to grill burgers mid rainstorm (they were raw). And while this casts a poor light on him, he does a lot to feed us. My little brother, 6’1” (last I checked) and a constant basketball player/gym goer, is never full. After his daily practices or lifts, my dad always gets takeout for him, calling the rest of the family for their orders. Much of my phone call history consists of me picking up to “What do you want from _____ (Panda, Burrito, Portillos, Culvers, Chipotle, etc).” My parents’ different relationships with food manifest directly within our pantry. My dad buys quick, easy snacks like chips while my mom buys more practical and essential things. 

Older now, the onus of feeding myself falls on me. At one point last year I was practically living off of power crunch protein bars: breakfast, after school/pre work snack, maybe even lunch. Strapped for time and, above all, lazy, cooking was the lowest on my priority list.  

/// this is as far as I got with this blog post— things fell apart when I had to start describing my own faulty nutrition habits (I am working on changing them, though!). Thanks for reading this hodgepodge of blog topics; I hope you had fun!

All financial and moral obligations aside, here are some things I would like to buy. 

(I never grew out of the art & crafts kid phase, so brace yourself)

POTTERY WHEEL: $400 – $1000

I refuse to die before I throw clay on a pottery wheel. This has been a long term dream, and I felt my world shatter when I found out that neither Ceramics 1 or 2 are allowed to use the wheel. I still enjoyed my Ceramics 1 experience even though I will have to outsource my pottery wheel access.  My upper level Ceramics friends (Meg and Evelyn) have recounted their own difficulties and challenges with using the wheel. However, I grew up playing “Let’s Create! Pottery” on my iPod, so I am filled with groundless confidence that I would thrive. Hours spent shaping digital pottery must translate to something. 

I would make masterpieces. Price aside, strength could also be an obstacle here, as throwing pottery might be physically demanding.  However this would help justify the price, because then the pottery wheel would also be an investment in my personal health. All jokes aside, if I don’t find a studio that I can work in/rent from within the next few decades, I might just have to buy my own materials. 

KILN: $700 – $15,000

Having art as your hobby is somewhat like If You Give a Mouse a Cookie; all materials necessitate the purchase of other materials. Now that I’ve bought the wheel, I need a way to fire my pieces. Unless I use air drying or oven bake clay, buying a kiln is non negotiable. Real clay needs to be fired at 1,800 F to 2,400 F— temperatures that my convection oven will not be reaching. The price range suggests a wide variety of kiln options. However, the lower end of the spectrum is listed as “small tabletop kilns” which aren’t going to cut it. I’d like a medium-sized one, ringing up at around $2,000-$3,000 (this is much more reasonable than fifteen thousand). Energy bills and other externalities will not be included in the calculation. 

PHOTOBOOTH: $1,000 to $11,000+

I love photobooths with my whole heart. Reasonably, you might question spending $5-7 on photos that your phone can take for free, but my photostrips remain as some of my most treasured memories. Something about the randomness, the spontaneity, and the unconventional nature makes photo booths so fun. I might have to use the booth at least 2,200 times to break even, but maybe I could make it happen in the long run. Better to start early! Having my own would make it incredibly more accessible, but I do wonder whether owning one would dull the magic. 

SCREEN PRINTING SUPPLIES: (MANY SMALL THINGS) $$-$$$

My first exposure to screen printing was at Highlands Elementary school. Despite how horribly my designs turned out the first time, I am filled with determination to try again. It will be better on the second try! My Pinterest and Instagram explore pages are filled with screen printed apparel, and I love both the process and the product. I’ve painted and upcycled clothing in other ways, and I’d love to expand into screen printing. The main barrier is the variety of materials I’d need to gather, including but not limited to a screen/wooden frame, a squeegee, ink, a stencil (either cut from paper or a printed graphic), and emulsion. However after listing these out, the list seems less daunting: maybe I’ll invest soon. There are other types of printing that I’d love to try, such as sun printing! But one thing at a time. 

RUG MAKING SUPPLIES: $200+?

There was a brief moment in time when I was obsessed with DIY rugs. They can be made by hand with a tufting hook (not sure if that is the right name) or a tufting gun (automated version, but this adds to the price). From there, a list of necessitated supplies would include:

• Foundation fabric
• Tufting frame
• Yarn 
• Some sort of adhesive? 
• A backing fabric 

However, after watching videos of rug creations, I was reminded of how I have no patience for this sort of tedious thing. I used to have a tapestry maker, and spoiler alert: no tapestry was ever completed by Grace Carsello. Know your own shortcomings. But maybe I could pull through if the rug was not too large and I had the automated gun. 

BLACKSMITHING MATERIALS: (PROBABLY VERY EXPENSIVE) 

I have always wanted to be a blacksmith. It might be more appropriate to say I have always wanted to weld, but blacksmithing has a nice ring to it. Do I want to make swords or just make cute little metal jewelry? I’m down for either. I’m not sure what the requirements are for metalworking, but let’s dive in further. 

After some minimal research, it turns out that blacksmithing is one of the more attainable options on this list. I’m not sure that I would trust tools made by myself, but who knows!

This is not an exhaustive list (I didn’t even get into having my own glassblowing studio) but this will suffice for now! Goodbye and goodluck! 

 

Title stolen from Evelyn’s difficulty poem, “A Supermarket in California” by Allen Ginsberg. This post is alternatively titled “Insanity.”

I am an addict. Despite my reluctance to admit this, it would be dishonest to not confess that I’ve amassed over 18,000 pins on Pinterest.

I must acknowledge that I am insane— over eighteen thousand??? (It looks a little less intimidating if I write it in words). However, to be fair I have had this account since fourth grade and 6,000 of those pins are able to be denounced, leaving only 12,000 pins over maybe eight years ≈ 1,500 a year ≈ 4.11 a day which is a pretty reasonable number.

A lot of it is mindless organization, filing away pictures I will never see again. However, it isn’t entirely in vain. Pinterest is a tool for the present— when I have an idea that I can’t yet pin (oops) down, a feeling or concept I can’t fully express, Pinterest is a means of working through it. Through analyzing and collecting countless images that appeal to me, I can single out common threads within them. This is best exemplified by hair color— I’m largely indecisive, so whenever I go to dye my hair I use Pinterest to thoroughly map out what to ask for at the salon. I’ve had a bad experience before, perhaps the most tears I’ve shed within approx. 12 hours, so it is important to be very careful! Additionally, I use Pinterest to make all my playlist covers, guiding the ambiance I am pursuing with the music curation [I have so many playlists (60+)!!! If you couldn’t already tell, I have an addictive relationship with categorizing].

Not all of Pinterest is lost to time; some of the images become inexplicably branded within my mind. A pomegranate on a porcelain plate, the black CDG converse, a strawberry against an electric blue backdrop, frantic confessions scribbled in crayon… If my memory was like a library, a good portion of the shelves would be filled with specific images from my experiences as well as my eclectic online collection. Admittedly, many are strange and unable to be explained (such as the strawberry, I still don’t know why it affected me so. I even used it in my APCS project), but they hold significance to me. Some attach to certain memories, like this vinyl with flowers on it that reminds me of when a guy was driving me home and proceeded to ignore me for the rest of the car ride “to see if we got along in comfortable silence.” This image was ruined for me. Though I don’t often scroll through all 18,000 pins, when I look back it’s like an archive of the development of my favorites, preferences, and tendencies, like the law of superposition.

Moreover, Pinterest inspires growth. It is full of creatives and visionaries, or as Izzy’s blog “How to be a mysterious indie girl: Step-by-step instructions” referred to it: a “mysterious indie girl hub spot.” Access to an unlimited reservoir of photography, fashion, art, etc. has served to inspire and regularly awe me. I’ve been impacted from minute details such as flower petals sewn on a page to entire photographic compositions. Pinterest pushes me to experiment, discovering personal passions outside convention. I’ve fostered love for lipstick stains, empty coffee cups, macaroni art, messy collages, and daring color palettes.

I am going to use my remaining word count to delve into a few niche obsessions of past and present: 

1: Yoshitomo Nara 

I do not know anything about Yoshitomo Nara besides that he is a Japanese artist. Maybe my passion for his work seems strange because it kind of looks like what a toddler would bring home from preschool, however that is why I love it. It feels juvenile, rebellious, and expressive. Yoshitomo Nara conveys a lot through very little.

2: Chaotic, colorful art

Writing this is really draining me but I have not yet written enough so I would like to take this moment to thank the people that have made it this far in the blog post. Maybe you are crazy too. Continuing on, I am really bored by simple art; I’ve spent too many years in that box. Recently, I really like overlays, texture, avoiding neutrals, and the bold.

 

I will close with another collection of images that are branded in my mind:

This boy (on the left) specifically. Like with the Yoshitomo Nara pieces, I feel an uncanny calling towards art that feels young, expressive, and a bit out of the blue.

On the right is a woman that I’ve tried to draw countless times within my sketchbook, however I have yet to appropriately capture her likeness. A similar concept can be applied towards the second woman. Once again this probably looks strange but from an artistic perspective they are incredibly fun to recreate.

I also want to put in this picture of a cat because I really enjoy it. You will too.

Goodnight!

BY JEAN VALENTINE

Child
You’ve boarded me over like a window or a well.

Mother
It was autumn
I couldn’t hear the students
only the music coming in the window,
Se tu m’ami
If you love me

I went for a week’s journey in soft ermine.
Darling, the ovals of your hair …
autumn leaves,
your hair the hue of rain-drenched bark, your voice:

Don’t ever leave me …

And this child, this
window in my side,
boarded over all my life,
—how can I take the boards off, in this wind?
I will break if I bend …

_________________________

I first read “Mother and Child, Body and Soul” by Jean Valentine as a conversation. The poem is divided into subsections of “Child,” and “Mother,” and at first glance I thought that these names were being used as nouns of direct address. However, reading on proved that they are used like character names in a screenplay.

The poem begins with an accusation: Child accuses Mother of “[boarding them] over like a window or a well.” I read this as a child feeling limited by their mother, blocked off from the world or their potential. Yet the images chosen to convey this sentiment, a window and a well, confused me. A well is a communal resource, dug into the ground; a window lets in light and allows one to see beyond, acting as a relief or barrier. In blocking off a window, does the mother limit the child’s sight, her own, or both? Does she limit their access to some ability or resource, such as the well implies? Is this “[boarding] over” a form of protection, and if so, is it of the mother, the child, or both? If not a protection at all, then is it driven by spite or fear? I am left with many questions about the meaning and effects of this action.

The poem then shifts to Mother’s perspective. She describes a scene of autumn and music, mentioning another window. Disconnected from the first, confrontational stanza, Mother seems caught up in memory. Upon researching the italicized line “Se tu m’ami / If you love me,” I discovered that the words are from a famous Italian song, properly finished with “…se tu sospiri,” meaning “if you love me, sigh for me.” This implies that to love another means to feel their pain: to empathize with them. This could be a reflection of her love for her child, suggesting her sacrifices for her child’s sake.

Mother describes a romantic scene: autumn leaves, the hues of “your hair,” wearing “soft ermine” which is an expensive fur coat. This new subject, “you,” could reference a past lover that Mother thinks of nostalgically, creating a third character, or rather the absence of one. The poem reads as a vague love story, and I find myself creating narratives to explain it. Perhaps there is no third person at all. Valentine is unclear about who is speaking and who is being spoken to, alluding to a past history that only the characters share. The next line: “Don’t ever leave me…” only serves to heighten my confusion. As italics have previously signified a change in speaker, this line could come from the theorized past lover or from Child. However, similar to the Italian line, it could also be an expression of Mother’s deep internal desires. Regardless, the trailing line exudes desperation and longing.

The last stanza stood out to me and was ultimately my reason for choosing this poem. Mother is brought back from her reverie by thoughts of her child, whom she calls a “window in [her] side.” This third reference to windows perpetuates my initial confusion about the poet’s intent— what does it mean to have a window in your side? Like the phrase “a sitch in my side,” a cramp, yet instead the poet chose a window as though Mother cannot refer to Child as something wholly negative, borrowing a window’s more positive connotation. In this stanza, Mother admits that Child is correct, that the window has been boarded over all her life, asking “—how can I take the boards off, in this wind?” This line, separated with an em-dash, develops a sense of vulnerability and desperation. Mother fears change, fears the elements and the light that opening the window would let in. Personal fear is what motivates her to shut Child out, not Child’s wellbeing. This selfishness is unconventional, not often depicted in the typical giving image of a mother. The final line, “I will break if I bend…” is the peak of this fear. Mother lives in the past: safe yet isolated, missing out on the present. This stanza develops Mother’s inner turmoil as she battles being a mother despite fearing the responsibility.

Upon revisiting the title, “Mother and Child, Body and Soul,” I am still somewhat lost. Though clearly a depiction of the relationship between a mother and child, the body and soul part leaves me uncertain. Perhaps it is due to the weight of the situation, felt viscerally. Despite not being confident about the details, the sentiments conveyed strike true. Valentine conveys raw emotion through the tender descriptions and desperate confessions, writing about love, longing, and fear. She explores a vulnerable side of motherhood: fear, uncertainty, and weakness. I enjoyed this poem for the way it was able to convey a relationship, particularly a flawed one, with such impact.

I’ve been at a loss for the past week as for what to write about. Thus, this blog is a composition of loosely tied together thoughts. Indulge me. 

Walking into Nichols Library to do an ungodly amount of math and physics homework, I was eager to be distracted. And thus, my attention was drawn to the back wall. Now, I don’t often explore Nichols because, like a fugitive Lisle resident, I have an unfounded fear that they will yell at me to leave. But this, I could not resist:

A collection of cat paintings: calico, tortoiseshell, tabby… etc. The display really resonated with me, and I’m sure the librarians caught me staring in wide-eyed awe. I mentioned within a previous post about my own art that I hold a deep admiration for artists that demonstrate a unique style and consistency within their pieces; something that differentiates a bunch from a collection. This collection achieved that, and the artist in question? Nine years old— color me impressed. My eyes kept returning to one of the center paintings in particular: 

My iPhone camera fails to do justice to the piece. Though subtle, the artist uses a myriad of colors, layered and intermixed, to bring the painting to life. Specifically, I loved the hints of pink within the fishbowl, and the frame itself, lined with a mossy green. 

The sight reminded me of a short story I clipped from a magazine years ago. In searching for it again, I learned that it was based on Allerleirauh, a fairy tale in which a king promises to never remarry until he finds a woman of equal beauty to his dead wife. The king concludes that the only suitable woman is his own daughter (classically twisted Brothers Grimm). The daughter agrees on impossible conditions: that he must provide her three dresses, one like the sun, another like the moon, and the last like the stars. 

This is where the short story that I am familiar with, “The King’s Wish” by Aimee Bender, comes in. Set in a textile studio famous for dyeing garments with impossible intricacy— leather shoes that look like rocks, a purse like a freshly bloomed rose— a team of artisan works with “the Color Master” as their head. The Color Master, dying, assigns the narrator, a lowly apprentice, the task of making these dresses for the princess. The Color Master guides the apprentice through the assignment, encouraging them to see nuances of shade and to put emotion into the dresses. To see not just gray within a rock, but blue, green, and purple. To color a dress like the sky, filled with anger and courage for the princess’s situation. 

 

I first read that story when I was about eight or nine years old, and it quite literally changed the way I viewed the world. 

In my personal journey with art, I’ve had to relearn how to look at things. Often you are caught drawing what you think something looks like, rather than it actually is. You think you know what an eye, an apple, or your best friend looks like until you have to decompose the lines and shades that compose them. Similar applications can be found within color. An art teacher of mine encouraged me to contrast with complementary colors. “Shadows” bring to mind the color black, but she pushed me towards red apples with deep green shadows: yellow pears offset by purple silhouettes. 

If you’re familiar with Ashley aka bestdressed on Youtube, 1) Let’s be friends and 2) you would know that her content is highly fashion and aesthetic oriented. As a prior film major, her artistic sense shines through her work (I continue to be in awe of all that she does.) Within one of her old videos on how she edits her photos, she notes that iPhone cameras often capture shadows as gray-toned. The Curves adjustment feature within editing software allows the user to adjust the levels of red, green, and blue of the shadows, midtones, and highlights of a photo. Infinite possibilities, though difficult to get right. Ashley combated the ashy tones by bringing blue, red, green, or a mixture of the three into the shadows. I don’t really use the curves adjustment feature for my own photos (too overwhelming), but this comment was also life-altering for me as I had never previously thought of iPhone cameras as lacking in their capture of real-life. A photo, I thought, was the truth. From there, like the vinyl-listeners of photography, I’ve spiraled into my pretentious camera era, further elaborated on within my camera collections post. 

I’ll stop here before I get into off-white, earth tones, and warm/natural lighting (drooling), but thank you for reading a perhaps interesting spread of musings!

I decided to close out this semester with a love letter to a highly underrated place— Lisle. Though often eclipsed by its neighboring city, Naperville, this village deserves more recognition. Thus, this is a dedicated feature on Lisle, the home of great spirit, good times, and yours truly!

Lisle Public Library

 

This blog would be incomplete without first paying homage to the Lisle Library District. This place is a home to me. I’ve visited countless times since my youth, checking out books or participating in their programs. I was a voracious reader as a kid, and my mom seemed to be on a perpetual run to the library. Each week, she would check out a stack of books for me and another for my little brother, occupying us until the next trip.

The staff has always been so sweet— looking back, they really did a lot. There would be an annual reading competition of some sort, in which kids would get prizes for reading certain amounts. I was always thrilled to play. The librarians also cared for two pet tortoises— like come on, what library has that? Watching them, fascinated, through the glass remains as a core memory. Additionally, they make monthly programs of events for everyone. I remember configuring wire circuits, painting with shaving cream, making candles, and defiling dollar store frames. I’m not sure how many kids still go to these events, but I hope there’s a good showing.

Lisle Lanes

Next, we have one of my most frequented places: Lisle Lanes! Walking in as a newcomer can be underwhelming; with no music or fluorescent lighting, it is difficult to visually compete with Bowlero. However, here you learn to truly live. In addition to having much more wallet-appealing prices, the ambiance is unmatched. Most of the time, the bowling alley is devoid of life. Once, my friends and I arrived before the staff did. One might wonder how they are still open. But come on a Saturday or Sunday night, and the entire town is here. Filled with middle aged to elderly citizens, all with a beer in hand, the place is rocking. I have so many memories there; even if you go as strangers, you will leave as friends.

“Downtown” Lisle

Let’s be real; Downtown Lisle is a street. But don’t let this turn you off of it— this street is home to one of Lisle’s greatest businesses: Euro Crepes. As one of the few places that sells crepes in the area, it satisfies an unmet demand. The experience speaks for itself; stop by sometime and try them! They also offer pizza and gyros, but I have not yet personally tried them.

On the same street, there is a new business called Lola’s Handcrafted Churros. My neighbor and I have been meaning to go for a while, but since she is in college now, call me if you feel like getting churros. It is located next to Smoking Bad, and the juxtaposition of that and the bright pink, flowery storefront makes a fun contrast. If you have been (to Lola’s), let me know if it is any good!

Sea Lion

If you are reading this, you are too old for Sea Lion. However, this place was the greatest in the old days. Though they lack a diving board, the huge, open pool, water slides, lazy river, water park, and sandpit make up for it. Every summer, I spent countless hours here with friends. The food court, a monopoly, likely made tremendous profits off our innumerable sno cones, pizza slices, and ice cream cookie sandwiches.

Lisle High School hill

I want to mention the hill behind Lisle High School. If we ever go sledding, I will take you here. The Naperville Bell Tower hill is overrated: too icy, not steep enough, and overpopulated with little kids. Contrastingly, the Lisle hill is much better. With a much steeper hill, it is a workout to walk up every time, but the ride down is that much better. I spent all my winters here, only ever disappointed by the Naperville hill. There is an added adrenaline rush from the small river at the bottom of the hill— each time we raced towards it, our parents were convinced we were going to die. I have never been heavy or fast enough to make it past the bank, but sometimes it gets risky when you are riding with multiple people. In this case, jump off! My most painful experience here was unrelated to the stream. Rather, it was going down the other side of the hill with friends (not my idea). It turns out that when looking from a distance, it is evidently hard to predict the three foot drop onto asphalt path that is hidden along the way. A few of my friends bruised their tailbones from that experience— I would not recommend.

Here were a few of my favorite and most nostalgic Lisle spots. This is not a complete list, though, so feel free to explore more. Support a small business sometime!

These days, everything is “Shot by iPhone.” With every new release, the gap between personal and professional cameras closes.

Yet despite this, I’m drawn to photos taken through other lenses. This is not limited to more technically advanced models— more often than not, my photos tend to be from older cameras. Between birthday gifts and storage closet pillages, I have amassed a small collection of cameras over the years. I would not consider myself an expert by any means, but I have a deep-held admiration for photography.

Canon Powershot SD600

Spoiler, this one is my favorite.

I first found this camera while digging through a junk drawer years ago. It turned out to be my mom’s old camera, originally released in 2006. Since then, it has accompanied me on countless adventures.

My older brother regards my beloved camera with disdain: “Why take worse pictures than your phone…?”

He doesn’t get it.
Something about the photo quality is quietly beautiful.

When the flash isn’t on, the photos turn out blurry. I believe the shutter speed is slower, and it would take a surgeon’s precision to keep the camera still while pressing the capture button. My shaky hands don’t stand a chance. While this occasionally produces some interesting blurred images, most photos are best with flash. When used in the dark, a high contrast/exposure effect is produced. However, the camera also manages to catch many subtle colors of the day that the iPhone often ignores.

Even with the blurry images and red-eyes, I love this camera with all my heart. Perhaps even for these reasons. The camera is small and rectangular, fitting neatly into almost any purse— a perfect companion.

My iPhone photo frustrations likely stem from overexposure; my camera roll currently hosts 11,210 photos. I realize this is excessive. My mom occasionally remembers that I take up at least 70% of our five person family’s cloud storage, but until she remembers again, I am safe. Thus, consider me highly familiar with the nuances of iPhone photos, and my judgment is that they cannot hold a candle to other lenses. Often frustrated by my phone’s inability to capture the beauty of a moment, I end up not even taking the picture.

Here are a few more fun ones as a treat!

Canon Powershot A1200

Next, we have my older brother’s childhood camera. I found this in his desk after he went away to college— I must have a knack for finding abandoned cameras in drawers. It is also a Canon Powershot, but this model is the A1200 (released 2011) while my mom’s was the SD600 (2006). It’s endearing, like my brother’s baby version of my mom’s camera. I remember using it when we were little. Propping it up on his tripod, we would film clips of us jumping around on the couch and enacting emotional scenes that he would then edit on iMovie. I wish I could find those productions again.

Looking at the quality now, the photos have a slight bluish tint to them, making them look more digital and cold than the previous camera. Given the options of both, I lean towards my mom’s, but I occasionally I use this one for video because the SD600 is a nightmare in that regard. Trust me.

Canon EOS M50

Next, we have my newest and by far fanciest camera. My mom/Santa gave me this camera for Christmas of 2021. I’m noticing her brand loyalty to Canon.

I know very little about the technicalities of cameras. SLR (single-lens reflex) cameras seem to be the most complex, coming in film only. DSLR are a similar, digital version. These cameras allow for more personalization through manual settings and overall higher quality. Point-and-shoot cameras are on the opposite end of the spectrum, simplifying the process as the name implies.

The Canon EOS M50 is a mirrorless camera— as the newest type, it strives to give users the quality and range of a DSLR while maintaining the portability and ease of point-and-shoot.

Simply put, this model is much more complex than my other decade-old cameras. Slowly, I am learning via experimentation.

The detail this camera captures is surreal— zooming in on these photos simply reveals more to the picture rather than pixels, although I am actively battling WordPress for image quality.

Instax

This was my first camera, a gift from years ago. The novelty of instant cameras is unparalleled— a one-of-a-kind picture is printed within minutes of simply pressing a button. The resulting images are high in contrast and exposure, alluding to nostalgia that predates my birth. Flash remedies the camera’s poor low-lighting abilities, although little can be done in overexposed scenes like a snowy day.

Film medley: My grandpa’s old camera, and the one I found in the basement

Neither of these cameras have been tried by me, so I am unable to offer test images. 

In regards to my grandpa’s camera, this thing is as heavy as anything. The strap is minuscule and therefore incredibly uncomfortable. Despite the challenge, I am excited for the results. Perhaps in the future I will delve deeper into my love for film. 

The other is an Olympus Infinity Stylus Zoom 140. Since my mom has no recollection of this camera that I found in the basement, it is mine to keep. Consequently, the camera is a complete mystery. I don’t even know if it works. However, a quick online search described it as the “ultimate dad camera,” meaning that it must be the camera of my dreams.

Flipvideo

Last but not least, we have this gem from my fellow photo lover, Ivy Chen. Her Ebay betting endeavors resulted in more cameras than one might expect, and as a result, here’s this Cisco Flipvideo camcorder!

Held vertically but recording horizontally, this device is truly unique. It’s a lot of fun and currently low-battery, but perhaps one day I will release a 2010esque video montage.