[Disclaimer: I own and use both film and digital cameras. I occasionally write stuff.] We often overlook aesthetics in our daily lives. We zero in on what we're about and, like blindered horses, become oblivious to the wider view around us. You can find an extreme example of this in the current tendency in the US to view all the facets of our lives within the framework, the straitjacket-like mental confines, the reductio ad absurdum of economics. But there's far more to living than we find if we view our existence as a balance sheet. Consider the following situation: You have the opportunity to take a short airplane flight. The length of the flight, the cost [affordable], the pilot and the course to be flown are predetermined. You do have a choice of aircraft, though: a modern Piper Arrow or an open-cockpit Stearman biplane. Think about your choice and why you would make it. Aesthetics does matter, doesn't it? Which brings me to sharing one of my little photographic quirks with you. We're all involved in making pictures through photography. That's a given. But when pursuing the goal of a good print it's sometimes pleasant to consider the little extras -- the aesthetic experiences -- which can be had within the overall picture-making activity. I believe we sometimes fail to see that they're even there to enjoy. One we overlook is the 'feel' of the process. We can enhance this through various choices we can make. The camera we decide to use is one such choice. Specifically, I find considerable pleasure in b&w 'street' photography while using an old rangefinder rig. For me, there's a sense of continuity with the past that's different from making street pictures with a modern digital camera. I do both, but I find that I don't think of Cartier-Bresson and his ilk when shooting digital. I don't feel their presence. The whole experience is, somehow, one 'dimension' less rich. Now, let's face it -- there will be little difference in the finished print, whether film- or digitally-captured. Viewed from a normal distance, it's quite difficult to distinguish between digital and film 'street' prints. The final goal, the picture, is going to be almost identical regardless of the camera I use, within reasonable limits. But I still like the thought of wearing a leather helmet and goggles -- and feeling the wind tugging on my white silk scarf as it flutters behind me in the slipstream. Don't you, too?