Happy Tuesday, my friend! I believe that most of you have already gotten back to your normal routine after the Christmas and New Year celebrations.
I admit I felt pretty tired this year, and this break helped me recharge and refocus, ready to kick off 2026 with much more energy. Slowing down, even just for a few days, always reminds me how important it is to pause before moving forward again.
I remember that when I was a kid, this vacation time was pervaded by the magic of lights, Christmas trees, gifts, and film pictures reviewed again and again. It was a slower kind of magic, made of small rituals and repeated moments. I loved it when my dad took the projector out of its box and, with the whole family gathered in the living room, we scrolled through the pictures he and my mother took during their one-year-long stay in the US.
Those images felt like windows into another world.
That journey happened before I was born, and it always felt distant in time, almost unreal, yet incredibly vivid.
Looking at those photographs, I started to understand how images can carry memories across years, even decades, without losing their emotional weight.
A few years ago, I found a roll of 35mm film (I can’t remember exactly what it was), and I decided to load it into the old Canon my dad used to own.
The gesture itself felt familiar and new at the same time.
Why not try to capture some images of the Christmas period with the warm, vintage feeling of film, embracing its imperfections and slower pace?
Shooting on film forces you to be present, to choose carefully, to trust the process. You don’t see the result immediately, and maybe that’s part of the charm.
These are some of those shots, processed by the lab and scanned to be shared with you. They are far from being perfect, but they are fragments of quiet moments, collected with patience and a sense of continuity between past and present.
Take care and talk soon!