180 ☼ Love, Tinder, and a Camera: A Photo Project Revisited (Book, Exhibition)
GIVEAWAY: $250 Gift Card for film, lenses, etc.
Dear friends,
This week, I’m looking back at a project that started with a simple idea—talking to strangers about love. It led to a book, two exhibitions, and some of the most honest conversations I’ve ever had.
Plus, I have a call for an upcoming portrait series—if you or someone you know was born in the year 2000 and is based in Amsterdam, keep reading!
And at the very end, don’t miss the $250 Moment x Process Giveaway.
How We Started Our Project
In 2017, writer Mikki Brammer and I set out to explore one of the most universal, complicated and endlessly discussed topics: love. We both set up a Tinder profile and transparently stated our goal was not to find dates but to invite a diverse range of New Yorkers to my Brooklyn loft to share their experiences and have their portraits taken. The result was What We Think We Know About Love—a photo book and exhibition.
Mikki and I had been wanting to collaborate for a while, and our shared curiosity led us to a project documenting personal love stories. Romantic love, platonic love, the love that lifts us up, the love that leaves us raw.
The response to our Tinder outreach was overwhelmingly positive. Nearly everyone we selected was up for it, and soon my Brooklyn loft became a space for open, candid conversations.
My Home Studio Setup
I set up a simple studio with black v-flats in my hallway, using the soft indirect light coming in through my window (Brooklyn winter light—I still miss it).
Mikki led the interviews while I took portraits, both of us aiming for an honest and simple approach. We spoke with people from various ages and orientations, including:
A young man who had never been on a date.
A fresh couple, still in the honeymoon phase.
A husband navigating the early days of a newly opened marriage.
A gay man finding his way in a dating scene that he didn’t feel connected to.
An woman in her 60’s reflecting on love after divorce. See below, Helene.
Everyone was generous with their stories, and I felt incredibly privileged to witness and document their thoughts on something so deeply personal. Here is some of what Helene shared with us, written down and edited for length by Mikki:
We also spoke to 26-year-old Ole, an exchange student from Norway who had arrived only three months previous and was deeply perplexed by the American attitude towards dating that he had encountered so far. (see below, new edit)
We spoke with Reggie (below, left), who had not yet been on a date, Lily (below, middle) who met her partner at a church meetup, and Casey who didn’t end up in the book but was an absolute delight (and my local barista at the time!).
The project led to a small-run photo book—350 copies—and exhibitions at The Invisible Dog in Brooklyn and The Line Hotel in Los Angeles. It was a tight, well-executed project, and I’m still proud of how we brought it to life. Below are some screenshots from social posts about the Brooklyn opening night.
Lessons From This Project
One of the biggest takeaways from What We Think We Know About Love was how open people are when you approach them with genuine kindness and curiosity.
As a photographer, my job gives me an “excuse” to ask big questions and really listen to people’s stories. Whether it's about love, about the healing nature of humor (upcoming project The Best Medicine), or about turning 25 in 2025 (more on that in a second), this is what keeps me excited to keep making work: the ability to make people feel seen, heard, and understood.
It’s also a reminder that collaboration is an art in itself. Working with Mikki was lovely—she’s thoughtful, curious, and kind, and I learned a lot about how to be a better creative partner. That’s a topic for another newsletter sometime.
Looking back at my raw files, I shot this project digitally, and I can see how much I’ve learned since. I’d approach both the shooting and editing differently now, but I still appreciate the soft, human quality of the originals. Below is an alternate shot of Helene that I re-edited this week—this time in black and white.
Last 5 Copies Available + Discount for Process Readers
While moving recently, I came across five remaining copies of the What We Think We Know About Love book. These are the very last ones. Originally sold out after being available only at exhibitions, they’re now in my webshop thanks to this bit of luck. As a thank you to Process readers, you can use the code processlove at checkout for 15% off if you order before February 23rd.
Every single one of these stories is quite amazing, relatable, and moving. Grab it now if you have any interest in the topic of love and how us humans deal with it.
Call for Participants: Born in 2000? Let’s Make a Portrait!
Speaking of projects centered around human experiences—are you an Amsterdam-based person who was born in the year 2000? If so, I’m looking for you.
This spring, I’ll be shooting portraits of people turning 25 in 2025, using a special batch of Kodak Ektacolor Pro Gold 160 (GPX) that expired in the year 2000—the same year you were born. The portraits will be taken in a studio in Amsterdam.
If you’d like to be part of this, sign up here.
We’ve already had 50 submissions from Instagram, and I’d love to get to 100. Feel free to share this with your 2000-born friends in Amsterdam!
Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed this issue, feel free to share it with a friend.
Let’s keep shooting, learning, and sharing—one messy, human step at a time. See you next week!
Warmly,
Wesley
PS Don’t forget to scroll down for the Process x Moment Giveaway
PPS In the years since, Mikki has produced more beautiful work, including her latest Clover, which is an “uplifting book about death”. You can read about it here.
Housekeeping
Photo Contest Winner — The first Process x Lomography Photo Contest received a whopping 2930 entries and we just announced the winners here. Great work!
Press — The Dutch magazine Visie just gave NOTICE Journal, Volume One a super positive review—4 out of 5 stars! I’ve included a picture below. Copies are still available in my webshop, and every order helps keep Process going.
This Week’s Gear and Lab
Camera: Canon 5D Mark IV + Canon 24-70mm f/2.8L EF II USM Lens.
Shout out to MPB.com, my go-to for buying and selling used gear—they’re fantastic. Easy, fast, and everything comes with a 6-month warranty
Lab: My film is processed and scanned by Carmencita Film Lab, whose care and consistency I trust completely. They’re the best. Use code “PROCESS” at checkout for a free upgrade on your next order.
Process x Moment Giveaway
My friends at Moment are back with another generous giveaway! One lucky Process subscriber will win a $250 gift card to buy film, lenses, accessories, and more.
To Enter: Answer this week’s question in the comments:
Q: Have you ever taken a photo that meant more later than it did in the moment? What was it?
Make your answer specific and personal—it’s always great to see what inspires you. For me, the answer is the family portraits I shared in Process 178, which I look at with so much love and a deeper appreciation now.
Deadline: Submit your answer before 11 a.m. EST on March 2nd. The winner will be chosen randomly and announced in an upcoming issue.
This giveaway is for all Process subscribers, free or paid—thank you for being here!
🗃️ Browse the Process Archives for back issues.
📜 Read the Process Manifesto.
How odd and interesting that you should ask this question now. In 2017, I was staying at friend's in France where I learned so much about what love is and what it isn't. Recently one of the photos I took came to my mind from this trip. My friends lived in the country and in their small village of 250 people, they happened to live in front of a Norman church. My friend had the key and would open it in the morning. One morning I was asked if I'd mind going over to open the church. It might have been ordinary, same old same old for them, but for me it was pretty trippy. I put the ancient key in the door and pushed and the door sang to me. I gently found the note and answered back, singing softly together as I walked into the simple space full of morning sun, so full of history and lives. I went to admire the stained glass glowing in the sun. All that colour shining down on me around me filling the space. It too, sang. I sang with it. When I turned around I realized that I was framed by the colours reflected on the church floor, my silhouette shaped by colour. I took a photo, a self-portrait. Up until recently, I thought of this photo as a way of showing the wonder I often feel in life, how my senses light up so very frequently. Now I'm also seeing that that same silhouette is a shadow and I'm very curious about the light that is me. Instead of looking outwards all the time, I'm learning to look inwards at the light and shadow, both.
A while ago, I shot a roll of Ilford 3200 at my brother’s wedding, using my Leica M4. At the time, it felt like any other moment behind the camera—composing, adjusting, capturing. But later, when I developed the negatives and made the prints, I realized those photos held something more. They weren’t just images; they carried the energy of the day, the fleeting expressions, the unspoken connections. One frame in particular—my brother laughing, mid-toast, surrounded by friends—hit differently once I saw it in print. In that moment, it was just another shot. Now, it’s a piece of time that will never happen again, something that exists only in memory and on paper.