I hadn’t used Olga in ages. And, when I pulled her out a few weeks ago there was something amiss with the shutter! So I took out the old screwdriver and some oil and had at it. The shutter disc had spun past it’s limiter so I had to reset it and fasten everything back together. I tried to give it just a tiny shot of WD-40 but ended up overdoing it. But, it looks like she works again! I just developed a roll including the spooky one above. Glad to have you back, Olga, wacky light leaks and all.

The shutter on Olga stopped working, so I opened her up. The simple mechanics are a delight to behold: a poetry of springs, leverage, and tension threshholds. I rousted then about and realigned the shutter disc and now she should be good to go. I’ll give her a spin soon.

“I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library” – Jorge Luis Borges

That quote has also been translated with “Heaven” in place of “Paradise.” I’ve loved the quote before I heard it. Powerful and widespread is the idea that death will open up a wider perception, or a greater sensory experience. Along the way, I have hoped that “Heaven” will mean that I get to see the origin of the universe. Alternately, there have been times I really wanted the afterlife to mean a lot of really great sex with my choice of partners. Or, the hope that I get a birds-eye view to see what my friends and enemies say and do at the news of my demise has also seemed a fitting last wish. I believe our expectations for Heaven are always a little laughable and irrational.

Lately, though, I do have one concrete hope for what happens when I unite with the universal consciousness after I die — that’s to know what dogs are really thinking.

Play it: “Move It On Over” – Hank Williams

(The photo of Peri is from Olga, my new old lo-fi toy pinhole film camera)