The Holga 120 Pan (modified with a 1950's 90mm Schneider Angulon) is a lot of fun to carry and shoot with. Not much different than shooting my 53 Agfa Isolette-take a meter reading, check the distance with the 1950's Medis rangefinder, transfer the distance to the lens, set f stop, shutter speed, cock and shoot. When winding the 120 film, you must turn for two exposures at a time (e.g. 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, and 11) in that 612 panoramic exposures are 6x12 rather than 6x6, giving you six exposures on a roll of 120 film. No need to worry about babying the camera body, as it is essentially a regular crappy plastic Holga on steroids. The Schneider f/6.3 90mm Angulon lens seems to function best stopped down to f22 or F32. As the lens is quite small for a large format lens, it balances well on the Holga. Only a 40.5mm filter size....very small.
“I thought how lovely and how strange a river is. A river is a river, always there, and yet the water flowing through it is never the same water and is never still. It’s always changing and is always on the move. And over time the river itself changes too. It widens and deepens as it rubs and scours, gnaws and kneads, eats and bores its way through the land. Even the greatest rivers- the Nile and the Ganges, the Yangtze and he Mississippi, the Amazon and the great grey-green greasy Limpopo all set about with fever trees-must have been no more than trickles and flickering streams before they grew into mighty rivers.
Are people like that? I wondered. Am I like that? Always me, like the river itself, always flowing but always different, like the water flowing in the river, sometimes walking steadily along andante, sometimes surging over rapids furioso, sometimes meandering wit hardly any visible movement tranquilo, lento, ppp pianissimo, sometimes gurgling giacoso with pleasure, sometimes sparkling brillante in the sun, sometimes lacrimoso, sometimes appassionato, sometimes misterioso, sometimes pesante, sometimes legato, sometimes staccato, sometimes sospirando, sometimes vivace, and always, I hope, amoroso.
Do I change like a river, widening and deepening, eddying back on myself sometimes, bursting my banks sometimes when there’s too much water, too much life in me, and sometimes dried up from lack of rain? Will the I that is me grow and widen and deepen? Or will I stagnate and become an arid riverbed? Will I allow people to dam me up and confine me to wall so that I flow only where they want? Will I allow them to turn me into a canal to use for they own purposes? Or will I make sure I flow freely, coursing my way through the land and ploughing a valley of my own?”
― Aidan Chambers, This is All: The Pillow Book of Cordelia Kenn