I’ve been lugging around a disposable camera for the past few months. It is a clunky, sensitive, and altogether inconvenient way to capture life. But there is something I respect about The Disposable in our instant day and age. It delays gratification. You have no idea if a shot is majesty or travesty until weeks after you’ve taken it. In some respects, then, The Disposable paints a more accurate portrait of post-grad life than digital technology. There is a lag between cause and effect. You can’t just snap your fingers and have a job, a graduate school acceptance, a future plan. You snap the shutter 27 times, and hope that after the film is developed, perhaps one of those 27 exposures will result in a proper image.
Besides, it doesn’t break when you drop it on concrete. How very practical.