“Shooting with the DSX 500 again reminded me why I fell in love with photography in the first place. It’s not about megapixels or the latest technology—it’s about the process, the connection, and the way film renders the world with a soul that digital just can’t match.”
The Joy of Shooting Mamiya SX-series SLR Again
Some cameras stay with you, not just as tools but as part of your journey. The Mamiya SX-series was that camera for me. It was my first SLR camera back in the early 2000s, the one that shaped how I see the world through a lens. Over the years, I’ve shot with many other systems—especially digital—but I’ve grown bored with it. Digital images feel “dead” to me compared to analog. Film has a depth, a life, that keeps pulling me back.
So finally getting my hands on the Mamiya DSX 500 (my original Mamiya SX was the MSX 500 which only has the spot metering option) again wasn’t just about nostalgia—it was about reconnecting with what makes photography meaningful to me. And just like when I started, I had my usual three go-to lenses: the 28mm, the 55mm, and the 135mm. There was a certain rhyme in this return—not just to the camera of my youth but also to the very landscape that first shaped my artistic vision. I now find myself living back in the place where I used to spend entire summers as a child, wandering the forests, lakeshores, and the old farmstead that have always inspired me. Now, I’m photographing them with the same sense of wonder, but with years of experience shaping how I see them through the lens.
The Shift from Digital: The Real Challenge
Shooting with it again, I immediately noticed the differences between this and my Nikon D800. There was no instant feedback—no LCD screen on the back to check my image, no exposure or focus confirmation in the viewfinder or on the top plate. I had to trust my skills, relying on my handheld light meter instead of the matrix meter that updates in real time. It was a shift in mindset, requiring patience and confidence in my own judgment. I also lacked autofocus, something I had grown used to relying on when in doubt. Instead, I had to slow down and be precise, making sure I truly nailed focus before pressing the shutter. Another limitation I had to adjust to was the lack of 1/3-stop increments on both the shutter speed and aperture. Unlike my digital cameras, where I can fine-tune exposure in small steps, I had to make coarser adjustments, sometimes having to decide between slightly overexposing or underexposing a scene..
Slowing Down: Mindful Composition and Patience
Despite these adjustments, or maybe because of them, I found myself more engaged in the process. I shot mainly on a tripod, taking my time with each composition. The first subject I captured was a familiar one—tree fungi growing on an old trunk. I’ve photographed similar fungi here before, always telling myself I’d return for a better shot. This time, I stopped making excuses. With the 135mm mounted, I focused in close, letting the shallow depth of field isolate the main subject. There was something deeply satisfying about working slowly, adjusting the composition with small, deliberate movements.
Breaking the Digital Habit: Less is More
One thing I noticed while shooting, though, was that I was still in the “digital” headspace. I found myself shooting more frames than I needed. With digital, I often did this, thinking I needed to hear the shutter fire or that I might “need” one more shot even though I had already captured the image I wanted. But this time, I realized that I didn’t need to rush. I only had 36 exposures on the roll, so I was more mindful than I would’ve been with digital, but I was still tempted to shoot more than I needed. It was something I made a mental note of to myself, a habit to work on. It’s still something I’m working on today, especially now that I mostly have only 15 exposures with my Mamiya 645 Pro TL. Each frame felt more meaningful, and the connection to the subject grew with every careful click of the shutter.
The Past Meets the Present: Layers of Time
Next came a zinc bucket resting on a derelict stone fence. The bucket itself was a more recent addition, likely from the mid-20th century, but the fence it sat on was much older—a remnant of a husmannsplass, a tenant farm that had existed here since the late 1700s. The farmstead was still in operation until the 1950s or 1960s, and while most of it has faded back into the landscape, traces of its history remain. The bucket, with its rusted-out back and weathered front, felt like a perfect symbol of that passage of time. I switched to the 55mm, wanting a slightly wider perspective to capture the bucket in context. The soft, natural tones of the scene, the way the light played off the metal and stone—it all reminded me why I love film.
The Weathered Stones: A Story Told in Textures
Finally, I turned my attention to the old stone fence itself. Unlike the bucket, this structure had been standing for generations, a quiet witness to the history of this place. These farmstead relics hold a layered history, their worn textures telling a story of centuries rather than decades. I returned to the 135mm to frame a tight detail of the fence, focusing on the rough edges and weathered surfaces that had stood against the elements for so long.
Why I Fell in Love with Photography: The Soul of the Image
Shooting with the DSX 500 again reminded me why I fell in love with photography in the first place. It’s not about megapixels or the latest technology—it’s about the process, the connection, and the way film renders the world with a soul that digital just can’t match. Each shot, taken with patience and intention, becomes a reflection of the scene, the light, and the passage of time—something I can’t replicate with digital. It’s not just about the final image but about every moment that leads to it. And that, to me, is where the true joy of photography lies.
“This post was originally published on my Substack in March 2025, where I share more personal insights and reflections on my photography journey. You can read it there: Toffa Berg Photography @ Substack .“
