Peering through the Pinhole

One of the things that keeps me interested in photography has always been that magical aspect of the medium--that mysterious occurrence that takes place somewhere in the dark box when light meets film.  I realize that there are numerous scientific explanations for the chemical reactions that happen when an exposure is made, but I like to hold on to the feeling I get--the feeling I'm sure the forefathers of photography got--when there is a latent image on that piece of acetate film just waiting to emerge in the developer.  This is probably why I go back to pinhole photography when I begin to feel stifled in my work, or when I become downright cynical and critical of photography in general.  I get some great satisfaction from the process of constructing my own camera out of cardboard and tape and working to make rough, rudimentary images that always seem to carry more weight and worth than anything I set out to make with modern equipment.  For me, it is comforting to know that no matter how much technology advances, no matter how complicated the photographic bells and whistles may become,  the most unique images are sometimes born from the simplest materials.