There was a time when photography was just another errand you ran on a Saturday afternoon. You dropped a roll of film off at the one-hour photo lab, picked it up a few days later, and then tore open that glossy paper envelope in the passenger seat on the way home. It wasn’t precious or performative; it was simply how life got recorded. You’d flip through the 4x6 prints, laugh at an accidental thumb over the lens, and stick the keepers in a large photo album.
