Some days, I really miss my old Polaroid. I loved watching the magic unfold on the photo paper that just slid out of the camera. I’d wait with anticipation to see how my latest creation developed. First it would look all muddy brown and green. And then slowly, reds, yellows and blues would emerge until the picture finished several moments later. In my head, I can still hear the sound of the motor ejecting the paper and smell the emulsifying process. It represents one of the good things from the 1970s.

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