Exploring New Mexico on Film with the Pentax 17
In November, I traveled to New Mexico with my sister-in-law for an adventure. We had hoped to camp, but snow was already covering the mesas and back roads, so we shifted gears and embraced a slower, more spontaneous kind of trip — one shaped by our moods, wide-open skies, and the quiet rhythm of winter in the desert.
I brought along the new Pentax 17, a half-frame film camera, loaded with a roll of Kodak Gold 200. Its compact size and minimal design made it an easy companion, light enough to carry all day without ever getting in the way. Shooting film changes how I move and see — it slows me down, encourages more intention, and invites me to trust the process rather than chase perfection. The half-frame format added another layer of thoughtfulness, pushing me to consider each composition a little more carefully. The camera shoots two vertical frames in the space of one 35mm image, in a diptych format, and I found myself thinking carefully about pairings.
One of our first stops was Bandelier National Monument, where ancient cliff dwellings are tucked into the canyon walls, surrounded by cottonwoods and volcanic rock. We climbed wooden ladders into caves once used by the Ancestral Puebloans and walked quietly along the snowy trails, imagining life in this place centuries ago. The Pentax 17 felt just right here — capturing not only the textures of stone and tree bark but also the stillness that lingers in the ruins.
One morning, we stopped at Santa Rosa de Lima, an early 18th-century Spanish settlement that now stands in quiet ruin along the roadside. Crumbling adobe walls, the weathered frame of an old mission church, and a scattering of crosses rising from the earth — everything bathed in soft winter light. There’s a kind of reverence to places like this, not forced or staged, but rooted in time and silence. It was the kind of scene that doesn’t ask to be captured, only witnessed. I made a few frames there, slowly. It felt like a place that asked you to listen before lifting the camera.
This frame from the Pentax 17 perfectly captures what I love about the half-frame format — the diptych pairing invites you to see visual relationships that might otherwise go unnoticed. On the left, a fallen tree sprawls across the desert floor, its twisted branches echoing the rugged lines of the surrounding landscape. On the right, cracked earth becomes an abstract, a study in color and texture. Together, they tell a broader story — one of resilience, stillness, and the subtle ways the desert holds time.
None of the images from this trip are perfect, and that’s not the point. They’re grainy and a little soft, but they feel like the trip: quiet, thoughtful, and a little bit magical. Traveling with a simple film camera reminded me to let go of perfection and just respond to the light, the shapes, and the moment in front of me.
I’m grateful for these days in New Mexico — for the color, the quiet, the space to slow down. And for film, always, for teaching me to see a little differently.
