Why I Love Shooting Film

For the past six years, and especially throughout the last year, I have been shooting film and capturing images that feel completely unique. There is something special about the entire process, from the moment I press the shutter to the moment I develop and scan the film at home. Unlike digital photography, film asks me to slow down, pay attention, and accept that I will not know exactly what I have created until later.

That uncertainty is one of the things I love most about it. Some photographs may be slightly blurry, out of focus, underexposed, or overexposed. They may not be technically perfect, but they often become some of the most meaningful images. Every time I look at one, I am transported back to the moment it was taken. I remember where I was, who I was with, what the weather felt like, and sometimes even what I was thinking.

With digital photography, it is easy to look at an image immediately and decide that it could be better. You can adjust your position, change your settings, or try to recreate the moment. Film does not offer that same opportunity. You take the photograph, move on, and continue experiencing the moment as honestly as possible.

Life is imperfect, and I believe photographs should reflect that imperfection. Film allows the unexpected to become part of the image. A little motion blur, an imperfect exposure, or a frame that does not turn out exactly as planned can give a photograph character and emotion. These imperfections often make the image feel more real.

Shooting film is also a slower process. It forces me to be present. Before taking a photograph, I have to think about where the sun is shining, how the shadows are falling, how the light is changing, and how all of those elements will affect the exposure. There is a great deal of thought involved, but that is part of the enjoyment. The process encourages me to observe rather than rush.

That is something I love bringing into my work with couples on their wedding days.

35mm Film

Much of my experience with film comes from shooting 35mm, a format I still absolutely love, especially when working with black-and-white film. There is something timeless about black-and-white 35mm photography. The grain, contrast, imperfections, and way the light falls across a person’s face all become part of the photograph.

Without color, the image becomes more focused on emotion, shape, texture, and light. A quiet expression or a small gesture can carry even more weight. The photographs feel connected to another time, yet they remain deeply personal and immediate.

And then there is medium format.

Moving Into Medium Format

As I have started moving into medium format, I have found myself especially drawn to shooting color. Medium format allows me to create images with incredible detail, depth, and clarity while still maintaining the organic feeling that makes film so special.

There is a certain quality to medium format that is difficult to describe until you see it. The images have a depth and presence that remind me of large-format and cinematic photography, like the kinds of images seen in films such as *The Odyssey*. They feel expansive and immersive, as though there is more to the photograph than what initially appears in the frame.

I love using medium format during love stories, trips, and increasingly on wedding days. It gives me the opportunity to create photographs that feel both intimate and cinematic.

One of the biggest differences between 35mm and medium format, however, is the number of exposures available. With 35mm, I can usually take around 36 photographs on a roll. With my medium-format camera, I am limited to approximately 15 or 16 exposures.

That limitation changes the way I photograph. When I have fewer frames, I have to think more carefully about each one. I have to ask myself whether the image is worth taking, whether I am repeating myself, and how I can make the photograph feel meaningful.

Is this shot worth it?

Am I repeating myself too much?

How can I make this image feel iconic?

Rather than seeing the limited number of exposures as a disadvantage, I have come to appreciate it. It gives me time to study what is in front of me and decide whether the moment is important. It encourages me to ask how I can make the image mean something instead of simply taking a photograph because I can.

Then I press the shutter and move on.

Super 8

Then there is Super 8.

Super 8 is a motion-picture film format that records on 8mm film. Like still photography, it does not allow me to see the finished result immediately. The film has to be developed and sent back before I can watch it, edit it, and understand what worked and what did not.

It is also an expensive format, especially when shooting during a wedding. Each cartridge provides a limited amount of footage—typically around two and a half minutes, depending on the frame rate. Not every second will necessarily be usable, which makes every decision even more important.

Once again, I have to slow down and consider what is worth recording.

What deserves to be captured?

What can be left unseen?

Is this moment important enough to spend film on?

That limitation creates a different kind of awareness. Instead of recording everything, I look for the moments that carry emotion: a glance between two people, the movement of a dress, the way someone laughs, or the quiet pause before a ceremony begins.

Super 8 allows me to capture those emotions in motion. It has the same honesty and unpredictability as 35mm and medium format still photography, but it adds movement, sound, and time. The result feels less like a simple recording and more like a memory brought back to life.

I Don’t Just Shoot Weddings

Although I am a wedding photographer here in Puerto Rico, I do not only take photographs during wedding days. I love photography in general. On my days off, I often find myself going out with a camera, experimenting, getting creative, and exploring ideas that have been in my head.

Super 8 has given me another way to continue learning. I am constantly working on how to expose it properly, how light behaves on the film, and how to create videos that feel nostalgic and emotional rather than simply recorded.

If I want to give my couples the best possible photographs and films, I have to keep practicing in my own life. I have to keep recording, learning, experimenting, and making mistakes. That is how I improve.

In the future, I want to share more of this work and continue developing my approach to film. More than anything, I want to capture moments for my couples in a way that makes them feel the same emotions I experience when I look back at my own travel photographs.

There is something special about developing a roll of film, receiving the scans, and seeing moments I have not looked at in weeks or months. Suddenly, I am there again. I remember the place, the people, the weather, and the feeling of that particular day.

That is what I want my couples to experience when they receive their photographs and films from me. I want them to feel transported back to their wedding day. I want them to look at an image years later and remember not only what happened, but how it felt.

That is one of the reasons I entered this industry.

Wedding photography can be stressful. It comes with a great deal of responsibility, a significant financial investment, and constant pressure to make sure everything goes well. But beneath it all, it is still something I genuinely love.

I love taking photographs. I love film. I love preserving small, imperfect moments and turning them into something people can hold onto forever.

Film reminds me to slow down, pay attention, and trust the process. It teaches me that not every image has to be perfect to be meaningful. Sometimes the photographs that stay with us are the ones that contain a little uncertainty, a little imperfection, and a genuine piece of the moment.

I would not trade that for the world.