You never quite notice just how uniquely someone walks, pushes their hair out of their face or makes eye contact with a stranger until it is your job to capture that exact instant on film. Over the past four years I have come to find that the photography I enjoy most is candid portraits. It’s amazing to sit down and view the way that someone else is living their life. It often leads me to feel that there is an unimaginable rift between so many people despite the seven degrees of separation and it being "such a small world."

One of my favorite spots to capture glimpses into the lives of others is Baltimore. The range of people who populate the city lends itself to an array of subjects. When I go, I often pray that there won’t only be street performers huddled in the inner harbor that are looking for attention and attempting to be seen, but that the business men are wandering towards their favorite café for lunch. That children out of school for the summer will be climbing the small statues scattered around the city. Sometimes the best photograph comes from a subject who doesn’t know they are lending themselves to art.

Many times I think of the quote by Ted Grant, “When you photograph people in color, you photograph their clothes. But when you photograph people in black and white, you photograph their souls.” Even if it is just something we tell ourselves, I do find a certain romantic air about black and white photography. It veers sharply away from all of the other images that we see daily and indirectly pushes its importance as it stands out in its simplicity. Black and white photography lends itself to be scrutinized more closely, especially the pictures that contain interesting content. Because it isn’t something that you would see in every Instagram post and often film photography is only viewed in person and not online, it draws the viewer in and asks them to comprehend every aspect of the photograph.

The portraits featured in this article were taken on a film camera. While it is easy to take photographs on a phone or even to use a digital camera, film photography tends to be more artistic. The time and energy that is spent on film inadvertently brings the photographer closer to the subject, even if the subject is a stranger captured in passing. Now that I don’t have access to a dark room I take more portraits on digital cameras, but nothing compares to watching the image you exposed onto film, then developed, then enlarged, darken onto a sheet of photo paper.

Film photography is a dying art. While it is still offered at some high schools and many colleges, there are stores that refuse to continue developing film. With the number of people who have access to digital cameras, including the ones in your phone, it is unnecessary for film to be used anymore unless the intent of the photograph is art. So I hold onto this dying art as I attempt to draw out the souls of those I photograph.