I was lucky enough to borrow the Leica M8 from a good friend — and let me tell you, this camera is the photographic equivalent of a Cadillac. Smooth, elegant, refined. But don’t be fooled: like Excalibur to Arthur, the Leica doesn’t give itself easily. You have to earn the right to wield it.
It handles like a film camera, with all the subtlety and charm that implies — but with the convenience of digital. No endless menu diving. No over-complication. Just the essentials. It’s a camera that asks for your attention, your care, your respect. And in return, it gives you an experience that’s unlike anything else I’ve used.
Where DSLRs feel like workhorses — big, bulky, and loud — the Leica M8 feels like a conversation. It doesn't dominate the space. It whispers. It blends in. When you raise it to your eye, it doesn’t raise suspicion. In fact, it barely raises eyebrows. Most people think you’re shooting on some old vintage film camera, and with that comes a kind of forgiveness and curiosity — especially in street photography.
You don’t have to work as hard to lower people’s guard. With a DSLR, there’s often this psychological wall to break down — the size, the sound, the obvious "I’m taking your photo" energy. People freeze up. With the Leica, that barrier barely exists. It invites honesty. Natural moments. Real expressions.
It’s not just a tool. It’s a partner in your process. A quiet co-conspirator.
So no, it’s not the easiest camera to use. It demands more from you. But it gives so much more in return. Once you’ve held it — once you’ve felt that rangefinder magic — it’s hard to go back.
Here are some of the images I was able to capture on my first couple of days with this beautiful camera. I am forever thankful to my friend Ashna for lending me this wonderful tool to experiment, explore and learn from.