What I Kept: The Tools That Still Matter

After making the difficult decision to downsize my entire darkroom life, I was left standing in the quiet aftermath, surrounded by tools, materials, and memories that had once been central to who I was as a photographer.

But as I began letting go of what no longer served me, I also became deeply intentional about what I chose to keep.

This wasn’t just about gear—it was about values. About clarity. About understanding what tools still helped me create the kind of work I believe in.

So today I want to share what made the cut—and why these tools still matter to me.

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Camera‘s

There’s something grounding about working with a large format camera. The way it slows you down. The way it demands attention and rewards patience. Out of all the cameras I’ve owned over the years, my 8×10 remains the most honest tool I’ve ever used. It encourages presence. It reinforces intention. It feels like an extension of how I see and feel.

I no longer need a dozen large and ultra large format cameras. One is enough. This one is enough for my expressive and personal fine art work.

For smaller formats, I kept my Nikon F and Canon EOS-1V. The Nikon F is all mechanical, no batteries and will outlast me several times over. It is about as simple as it can get when it comes to photography. I use the waist level eye finder and the Sunny 16 rule with this camera. The uncoated or single coated lenses from the 1950’s aren’t a limitation, they are part of the story and help me achive the aesthetic that I want in my emotional and expressive fine art photography.

I use the Canon EOS-1V to photograph wild horses. It represents the pinnacle of 35mm film camera design—rugged, weather-sealed, and built to withstand serious field use. Highly customizable and equipped with state-of-the-art autofocus technology for its time, the EOS-1V was introduced over 25 years ago and still performs flawlessly today.

Canon sold the EOS-1V new until 2018, and official service support continued until 2020. One of the major advantages of Canon’s system is its broad lens compatibility—virtually every Canon EF lens ever made works seamlessly across both film and digital bodies. For my wild horse work, I rely on Canon’s professional L-series lenses, which are also weather-sealed and built to endure harsh outdoor conditions.

I’ve photographed wild horses in pouring rain, and the EOS-1V never misses a beat—it just keeps going.

A Small Set of Large Format Soft Focus Lenses

I kept just a few large format soft focus lenses—each one with its own character, story, and emotional resonance. My soft focus lenses from the 19th and early 20th centuries are more than just glass; they shape light in a way that feels closer to memory or dream than to documentation. That’s where my work lives now—in emotion, not in sharpness. I don’t need technical perfection. I need soul. I use these lenses with my handmade calotype paper negative work (Temporal Symphony: Cycles of Change) and with my silver gelatin paper negative work (Solitary Witnesses).

Film, Paper Negatives, and Handmade Calotypes

Though I no longer print in the darkroom, I still use film and silver gelatin paper negatives and I make handmade calotype paper negatives. These are the foundations of my process—tactile, imperfect, analog. They bring a texture and quality to the image that scanning alone can’t replicate. Whether I’m working with Ilford FP4+, handmade calotypes, or silver gelatin paper negatives, these materials anchor me to the roots of photography while giving me freedom to evolve.

A Flatbed Scanner and My Epson Inkjet Printer

I used to see scanning and digital printing as a fallback. I don’t anymore.

Now I see them as a bridge—a way to bring analog soul into the present without the burden of chemical complexity. My flatbed scanner lets me digitize my negatives with care, and my Epson pigment-based printer allows me to create archival prints that reflect my vision with depth and nuance.

I bring everything I learned from the darkroom into how I edit, tone, and print today. Every curve adjustment and tonal refinement is guided by decades of watching prints emerge in the developer tray.

The transition to archival pigment printing—paired with a significant reduction in camera gear—has become the core of my simplification and sharpening of focus. I’m already spending more time outdoors pursuing my projects: Temporal Symphony: Cycles of ChangeSolitary Witnesses, and Untamed Silence: The Wild Horses of Missouri.

This shift has brought unexpected benefits. I’m hiking more, getting regular exercise, staying focused on healthy eating, and engaging in deeper reflection about my work. But the biggest surprise has been discovering how much I truly enjoy the archival pigment printing process.

At first, I assumed these prints would feel like a compromise—technically adequate, perhaps, but emotionally lacking compared to my analog darkroom work. Instead, I’ve found the opposite to be true. By applying over 45 years of darkroom printing experience to these new tools, I’m now producing prints that are virtually indistinguishable from my traditional silver or alternative process prints—and in many cases, they surpass what I thought was possible.

ne of the biggest benefits—and most unexpected surprises—of scanning my analog negatives (including film, silver gelatin paper negatives, and handmade calotype paper negatives) has been the ability to shape light and shadow in ways that significantly enhance the expressive qualities of my photographs. These kinds of tonal adjustments were either not possible before or required time-consuming, labor-intensive darkroom techniques.

The other key revelation has been the archival pigment printing workflow, particularly using Epson’s Advanced Black & White mode. The quality of these prints has genuinely surprised me—they are often said to rival traditional analog prints, and in my experience, they do, with the exception of platinum prints. For example, I’ve been able to faithfully replicate the handmade character of my salt prints from calotype negatives in ways I never thought possible through digital output.

But most of all, I’m excited to keep creating. The fact that I can continue making work I truly enjoy—and feel proud of—is what matters most to me. Doing this with a smaller footprint, fewer cameras, and less gear isn’t just the right move on every level—it’s actually fueling my creativity in ways I never expected. Simplifying has opened up space for deeper focus, greater freedom, and a renewed desire to make meaningful work.

My Values

Above all, the most important thing I kept is this: why I create.

I create to feel. To connect. To interpret the quiet beauty of the world around me in a way that feels honest. That hasn’t changed—and it never will.

Letting go of equipment and workflows wasn’t the end of anything. It is the beginning of a more distilled, focused version of myself as an artist.

If you’ve been feeling overwhelmed by your process—or stuck under the weight of what you think you should be doing—I hope this gives you permission to simplify. Keep what matters. Let go of the rest.

Inside the Darkroom Diary Premium Membership, I share exactly how I work today—my minimalist analog setup, my hybrid workflow, and how I bring emotion and presence into every image. It’s a space for thoughtful photographers who want to create with meaning, not just momentum.

The tools may change. But the vision—the heart—that’s what endures.

— Tim


Are You Investing in Your Creative Growth? Photographers often invest heavily in gear, equipment, and supplies—but how often do we invest in ourselves? For just $10 a month, the Darkroom Diary Premium Membership offers you the chance to join a vibrant community dedicated to growth, learning, and sharing creative journeys.

This is more than a membership—it’s a space to connect, evolve your vision, and draw inspiration from fellow analog photography enthusiasts. If you’re ready to take the next step in your creative journey, we’d be honored to have you join us in building this unique community.

Master the Craft of Analog Photography On Your Own Schedule
My Analog Photography Video Workshops deliver in-depth, practical instruction you can watch anytime. Whether you’re in the darkroom or out in the field, these workshops are designed to help you grow your analog photography and darkroom skills with clarity and confidence. 👉 Explore the workshops now.

Published by Tim Layton

Tim Layton is an Ozarks-based photographer working in 19th-century processes. Using large format cameras and traditional darkroom methods, he creates handmade photographic prints that document the region’s historic landmarks—water-powered mills, covered bridges, and old towns—before they are lost to time. His work is rooted in craft, patience, and the belief that these places deserve to be preserved with the same care with which they were built.

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