The object
The M2 is the Leica I understand most easily. Its viewfinder gives a 35 mm lens room to breathe, the frame counter asks to be reset by hand and every control has a measured, mechanical action. There is enough ceremony to slow me down, but not enough to interrupt the photograph.
This body has clearly been carried. The advance lever is polished where a thumb repeatedly found it, the edges have softened and the finish carries small marks that would be difficult to reproduce convincingly. I do not read that wear as damage. It is a record of familiarity, and it is one of the reasons I preferred this example to a cosmetically perfect one.
Restoration has been limited to what the camera needs in order to work properly. The rangefinder was cleaned and aligned, shutter timing checked and the transport serviced. I left the exterior alone. Repainting or replacing sound covering would have made the camera look newer while telling less of the truth.
Why I keep it
I keep the M2 because it makes complicated photographic engineering feel direct. Once a lens is mounted and film loaded, the camera largely disappears. What remains is a bright frame, a focusing patch and the decision to press the release.
