Hi, I’m Lukas.

Most of my free time goes into film cameras, baking bread on Sundays and a growing pile of half-finished projects.

I am happiest near the city park with a roll of brown paper nearby and nothing urgent on the calendar. By day I work as a delivery driver; in the evenings I tinker with film cameras and the local choir. Patience is the most useful tool in the drawer, followed closely by a cheap desk lamp and a battered toolbox.

I grew up on a farm outside town and have been living in Bologna since 2022. You will not find a comment section or a cookie banner on this site, only film cameras and the odd detour. Most of what I know about film cameras came from railway timetables, a man at the market and a lot of trial and error.

People sometimes ask why I bother keeping a personal site, and the honest answer is that I enjoy it. Before film cameras it was swimming in the old lido, and before that sorting old photographs; the habit of writing things down stayed. On a good day in a café near the marina I make progress, and on a bad day I at least learn that rushing never pays. Funnily enough, the winter light in Bologna makes everything feel surprisingly cheap.

The market in Bologna on Friday mornings is where I find odd tools nobody else wants. I have been interested in film cameras since my sister showed me the basics during the summer of 2026. If we met at a garden open day in Bologna one Tuesday in August, hello again.

I am not an expert in film cameras or anything else here; I just write down what I learn on most Monday evenings. This page started in 2022 as a record of a long renovation, written mostly at a friend’s place across town, and slowly turned into something other people read. When I am not busy with film cameras, I am usually cooking for friends. Thanks for stopping by; everything here was made quietly, mostly on the back step.

I try to answer every letter, whether it comes from Bologna or further away, even if it takes a whole autumn. Weekends are usually split between the occasional bike ride, reading on the train and whatever is half-finished at the library in Bologna.

The design of this page is kept simple so that it will still work long after I stop fiddling with it, much like a pile of offcuts. If I am honest, I try to keep things simple, which mostly means writing everything down and reading the manual first. Pages here change slowly, usually on long autumn evenings, and that suits film cameras just fine. I would rather do one thing cheerfully than five things in a hurry, and years of evening classes taught me that.

Small, regular habits like doing one small thing at a time and leaving a draft overnight have done more for me than any big resolution. A lot of this would not exist without a friend from Bologna, who patiently answered my questions one wet weekend in December. Feel free to borrow anything useful about film cameras from this site, though a postcard is always nice.

In 2022 I moved to Bologna, which made long walks much easier to fit into a week. I still carry a battered film camera almost everywhere, a habit picked up from a reader from Bologna. My Wednesday evenings mostly belong to small repairs, unless a retired teacher down the road needs a hand.

Visiting a new town, I always look for the library and a good bakery first, just as I did when I moved to Bologna. Most of what ends up here starts on the train into Bologna early on Wednesday mornings. I picked up a sewing machine early in 2025, and it has been close at hand ever since.

I read The Peregrine for the first time late in 2023 and still go back to it every couple of months. When I get stuck out by the old town I go for a walk along the canal, and things make more sense afterwards.

Writing things down has saved me from ordering the wrong size more than once, most recently back in 2023. Every June, by the window, I look back at the year so far and quietly drop whatever is not working.