Date Around Until You Find It

I Didn’t Want the Moment to End

I hate opening Leica boxes.

Not because they’re hard to open — because the packaging is so beautiful you feel like you’re ruining something. You know you can just rip it. I couldn’t. I sat there working the lid off slowly, and somewhere in the middle of it I caught myself thinking: I don’t want this to end.

That’s a strange thing to feel about cardboard.

The SL3-P arrived and the first thing I noticed was what wasn’t there. They removed the logo. The iconic red dot, gone. And instead of feeling like something was missing, it felt like restraint — like the camera had decided it didn’t need to announce itself. At the bottom of the box, under the cables and the battery, a handwritten note. Thank you for choosing this.

I’ve shot Canon. Sony. Nikon. Fujifilm. Olympus. I’ve used most of what’s on the market and I’ve been good with all of it. But it wasn’t until Leica that I fell in love with photography all over again — with making something extraordinary out of the ordinary. That became real to me when I started shooting Leica.

Here’s what I actually want to say, and it has nothing to do with this camera.

You need a camera that inspires you. One that motivates you. One that makes you see the world differently when you pick it up because you should feel something when you pick it up. That urge to go out and make something.

If you haven’t found that camera yet: keep looking. Shop around. Date around. It matters more than the spec sheet does.

Mine happens to be a Leica. Yours might not be. I hope you find it anyway.