A project that evoked using mediums that are dying and find a new purpose to them. I was a 90s girl with a Gameboy growing up, and recently discovered the Gameboy camera and printer, two truly ahead of their time technologies.
The camera allows you to take up to 29 images with it, each photograph is stamp size, you can turn the camera to the Gameboy holder or what's in front of it. It lets you change the brightness and contrast of the image, change frames, add stickers and write things on it. It's like a low-res Instagram app from over 10 years ago.
You can then print the images using cables attached from the Gameboy to the printer. The printing process is thermal and eventually the print fades away, just like any receipt paper, so the ghostly part is defiantly there.
After purchasing the Gameboy camera on eBay, I was intending to take photographs with it. I discovered that the seller did not delete the photographs that were on the camera. I was curious and looked at each and every one of the photographs. I discovered a hidden treasure. The photographs were so awkward, weird and random I knew I can't just delete them and keep them in the past. These photographs are over 10 years old. One of them had a timestamp dating from 2004.
I started buying more of those cameras, collecting the images, discovering that most sellers don't bother deleting what's on the cameras! This was truly fascinating to me. Small stories from the past that in my eyes deserve a recognition.
Using the Gameboy printer, I printed each camera roll to a strip, presenting them with pins on the wall, since it's so delicate and fragile.
A few were printed to an A0 size as is, pixelated, to be taken out of context, and give those images more meaning than disposable little images.