Yuck

The dark underbelly of my gig as a graphic artist is when I have to clean the film processor.

We don't do much film these days, most of it's direct to plate. But the big press takes metal plates and we don't have a metal platesetter, so that's film and stripping and burning.



The film processor is waiting in line at the Antiques Road Show, but it still gets dirty. Meaning the film coming out of it gets all scuzzy and useless.

So I wear my grubbies in to work and spend half the day taking the thing apart and scrubbing parts and taking parts apart and scrubbing their parts and then trying to figure out how it all goes back together. With minimal parts leftover.



We don't use this camera anymore, though. It's still there because it's the technological equivalent of Confederate Bonds. Nobody else is shooting shit on a camera like this either, so there's not really a market for used Kenros. Your old 35mm camera? Meet its 18 inch counterpart.



I still love the thing, though. If I had a place in my home (such as the foyer of my dream loft), I'd want it there, first thing you see when you walk in. But alas, it's just a shelf for storing the imagesetter's film on...