Not too long ago I finally had the time to scan my analog pictures and I also created a Flickr account for that purpose. A good friend of mine reminded me to mention that I used the best equipment, namely the none-of-your-business camera with the who-cares lens.

This all plays into an old analogy I told people who start out doing photography, although my pal tells the story now instead of me, since they’ve become way more knowledgeable. But I’ll make an exception today. The gist is: A famous photographer walks into a Michelin-star restaurant. The cook recognizes the artist and asks them a million questions about their gear. After the meal, the photographer returns the favor and sends the compliments back to the chef. They probably have the most expensive pans in the world and that is why the food was so delicious.

A blind man with a cane can see where this story is going. Although there are niche scenarios, for 99%, it comes down to taste and preference, but most importantly, the ingredients. While we chatted about this, I wondered if there might be a scenario where I’d reconsider my position. If I were a starving artist that is trying to sell their art to a rich patron, it wouldn’t be out of the question to make up some BS. Such as claiming to use a very special and obscure kind of film, and picking an analog camera over digital because, after thousands of hours of trial and error, as it finally gave me the exact grain I was searching for. I consider this utterly insane, but if written evidence of this surfaces and an overly eager art historian or author sees this as evidence of the artist’s inner machinations, it can suddenly be taken as fact, once written down. This heavily implies that the art world is full of itself and most of it has always been some form of reaction farming. Personally, I believe that something doesn’t have to be perfect or admired in order to be wonderful, and that also includes the idea that art doesn’t need an audience to exist and by extend, an analasys.