Back in the day, all I ever shot was black and white. I developed it myself. I printed it myself. In a darkroom. With all the stinky chemicals. Yes, I dodged and burned. I toned. My darkroom had no ventilation and no running water and was at the opposite end of my apartment from the bathroom (and the tub in which I washed the prints). Big, beautiful, 16″ x 20″ prints they were.
I was, if I may say so, a very good printer. I had mad skillz. But after a few hours in the darkroom, my pee smelled like fixer for days. It’s a wonder I still have my original liver.
So I don’t really miss the darkroom, except for a vague, wistful nostalgia. And now, with the advent of shooting RAW and “developing” through post-processing in Lightroom, I feel that I’m returning to my roots albeit in a modern, digital way. But I’m nowhere near having mad skillz.