Recently I’ve noticed a personal shift towards an old way of doing things. Collecting physical media. See, I’ve just moved and treated myself to a fancy new TV, and really wanted to see what all of the hype around 4K was, so I grabbed a few Criterion Collection editions of some of my favorite movies to test it out. Two discs here, another three there, maybe I’ll indulge myself during a sale, and all of a sudden my movie collection is rivalling what it was in the early 2000s. With all the options for digital media out there it seemed counterintuitive. Movies gave way to music, and then printing out many of my photos I have stored on my phone. I guess I had heard too many horror stories about people losing hard drives, data crashes, streaming services editing or removing titles making them inaccessible. Yes of course I still have my digital prints as backups, but having a tangible print that I can pick up and look at is something completely different than the endless scroll past every random photographic impulse that happens to be on my phone.
…It’s not just about nostalgia, though I’d be lying if I said that didn’t play a part. There’s something deeply satisfying about the tactile ritual, sliding a disc out of its sleeve, hearing the soft whir of it loading, flipping through a booklet of behind-the-scenes notes or original poster art. Same goes for flipping through a stack of prints, each one weighted with memory in a way pixels never quite replicate. It feels like these objects ask you to slow down, to focus, to engage more deliberately.
And maybe that’s the root of it, deliberateness. The way streaming encourages constant sampling, skimming, abandoning things mid-way because there's always something else queued up. But when you take the time to select a film from your shelf or frame a photo on your wall, it becomes less about consumption and more about curation. You’re not just watching or viewing, you’re honoring a choice.
I don’t think I’m giving up digital any time soon. It’s convenient, it’s fast, and it’s gotten me through a lot of late-night bouts of insomnia. But these days, I’m carving out space—both physical and mental—for the slower, analog rituals. They remind me to savor, to commit, and to hold on a little tighter to the things that matter.
…and if I can offer a recommendation, the staff at Fotobox in Etobicoke not only offer beautiful work to GTA photographers both amateur and professional, but a no fuss experience that puts quality prints that feel right in your hands.