This book is for those who travel and come across life, amazing everyday life. It’s for the ones who cannot remember, who rely on images to store and rediscover moments of their past. Those who continue to archive images for the future. Film. If film was a drug, I would be the dealer and first-in-line to be addicted to it. This book is for the ones who own a film scanner, losing time and having fun, when blue flares are intended... and dust while scanning, too. These pictures are for those who love film paper numbers on the frame, fixed there because of a not predictable light leak. This is for those who believe in beauty, the ordinary beauty, the beauty you meet tomorrow in the subway, or the one you watch for two minutes with no specific reason, speechless. Yes, beauty. The beauty you would write a song for, or a serenade, maybe a reckless serenade. The kind of beauty that makes everything else seem less important and less valuable. This book is for those who share the analog philosophy, those who smell the film while loading the camera. It is for those who love the digital era, but think that analog photography is actually better, if you know how to do that. Maybe this wall of words is not enough to describe the excitement. Waiting for the lab to deliver your rolls and then finally seeing your pictures. This book is for those who slow down while shooting, because film requires time to think. It is also for those who buy and sell film cameras from all around the globe, like smuggling weapons in the post-URSS era. This book is for dreamers, the ones who live life and those who are hopeful of what the future has to offer. It is also for those who are not excited about what happens in the world and cannot understand how beautiful is what they have just outside the door. Probably they should only go outside and discover it. This book is for a billion people, maybe. This book is for you.