He was the last lover she recorded on film - the rest had all been relegated to digital photos on a hard drive. Most of her relationship with him is even documented in JPEGs. But she has a special box, filled with grainy, poorly-exposed photo booth strips. Dozens of faded Polaroids, in those last months before the film went out of production for good. Kisses, embracing hands, the beautifully awkward moment of him sliding on a condom that he found silly but she found completely sexy. The glorious expression on his face as she photographed the moment of his orgasm.