This week’s reflection is inspired by a moment I experienced on Tuesday.
I had just climbed the stairs to Regional Rail track 5 at Philadelphia’s 30th Street Station when I happened to glance upward.
Through the platform’s skylights, the U.S. flag was perfectly framed by the panes of glass and illuminated against a brilliantly blue sky. It was a scene easily overlooked unless you were to pause, adjust your gaze, and take a moment to appreciate what’s right there above you.
Children often notice what is hiding in plain sight, and it’s something I’ve had to relearn as an adult and to put to good use as I notice people and places, express appreciation, and let people know that I see them.
This practice can mean unexpected stops and detours. When I invite a friend to go out cycling together, I share why I enjoy the ride: it is about enjoying the journey as well getting to the destination. It’s one way I have found to put Eckhart Tolle’s wise guidance into action, paraphrasing, that the only thing that is real and worth living is the present moment.
Photography provides a way for me to practice this.
Early in my career, when I had my first “real job” as a photojournalist, I shot exclusively with black and white film. I developed the film, edited the photos, and printed them myself - very much an in-the-moment activity.
Working at a small-town newspaper, I quickly learned that perfection was a relative concept. There were countless variables that could get in the way of telling the story with a perfect shot, including poor reproduction on a well-worn press, cropping applied by an editor, or the placement of the photo.
These days, I shoot for myself, exploring, appreciating, and understanding the world around me. Photography has become a way for me to create tangible memories and a narrative of places, people, and experiences. And I often still prefer shooting with film.
So, standing on the train platform, I pulled out my Polaroid camera and clicked the shutter. If you’ve ever used a Polaroid SX-70, one of the few instant film cameras that’s a true SLR, you know the satisfying “kerchunk” as the mirror flips up, the shutter opens for a split second, the film is ejected, and the development process starts.
But here’s the thing: what you envision at the moment of inspiration is rarely what you get in the end. This holds true for all creative endeavors. There are countless variables that shape an idea as it moves from concept to reality.
This unpredictability is especially true with photography and even more so with a finicky medium like instant film. Each frame is subject to a range of factors—the narrow exposure latitude of the film, its age, development temperature, storage conditions, lens quality, the condition of the rollers that eject the film, and even how the film is handled afterward. (Pro tip: Don’t shake or fan Polaroids—they don’t need to dry and doing so can actually affect the photo.)
Shooting with analog instant film requires active participation. When I press the shutter, I must trust the process. This is a deliberate choice—it imposes constraints, demands engagement, and invites unpredictability. But that’s the thrill—if every picture was the same every time, there’d be no novelty.
The most important step is to make that leap of faith and take the shot.
Sometimes, the result is a stunning visual treat; other times, it’s an epic fail. Or at least, that’s how it might seem at first—until you realize that “Ooops” can be cool.
Polaroid and other leaders in the nouveau-retro analog photography space, like Lomography, embrace this analog aesthetic, celebrating technical imperfections and unexpected outcomes as part of life’s authenticity. This trend is gaining cultural traction, extending even to areas like cosmetic dentistry.
In the case of my photo from the train platform, the result was far from what I envisioned.
One of the chemical pods in the film frame failed, leaving a vertical stripe on the right third of the photo which developed differently. I should have adjusted the camera’s exposure settings to better capture the flag in the sunlight. There’s also a brown splotch in the upper right corner where the developing fluid didn’t fully cover the film.
This was not the outcome I expected but I kept an open mind. It struck me that this image is a metaphor for our democratic experiment in the United States. [Don’t worry—this isn’t about politics.]
We have a vision of what we hope to achieve, and despite over 200 years of effort, the results remain imperfect. Some factors are beyond our control, and many stem from the choices we make as a society.
Yet, we keep going. We keep the vision in sight and strive to bring into reality. Much like photography, the process is messy, and the outcomes are shaped by the variables at play.
But as long as we keep at it, with open minds and open hearts, and the will to turn intention into action, we have a shot at realizing our vision—complete with the imperfections and surprises that make the journey unique, surprising, and inspiring.
So, I’m keeping this photo and filing it under “Oops, Cool!” It’s a reminder of that moment on the platform, of seeing potential, embracing the now, taking a leap of faith to act, reflecting on the result, and giving it another go.
Have a great weekend.
Bonus Content
Photo from Platform #5, the inspiration for today’s reflection.