What would we do without photos? It is a graphic reminder of a time and space that relates to life.
There was a time when having a camera was a luxury. To get a photo one had to go to a photographer who had a camera then stand still until the image could be transferred to film (or plate?). Then the photographer had to process the image from negative to paper so everyone could see.
I wasn’t around in the Civil War, but I’ve seen photos. I wasn’t at Pearl Harbor when it was attacked, but I’ve seen photos. I never met my father’s brother or his mother or the man I was named after, but I’ve seen photos.
There are graduation photos. There are wedding photos. There are baby photos. There are vacation photos. There are pet photos.
Where are the funeral photos? Where are the divorce photos? How about a nice stack of eviction photos?
Photos are taken to remember our good times, but we are still fascinated by the media photos of murders and disasters and wrecks and war. The more grotesque the more we crave them.
There are also wonderful photos of landscapes and places you will never travel too but you can view. There are faces of people you will never meet but if you did they won’t look the same because we’ve all gotten older from when the shutter clicked.
Now that everyone has a camera with them capturing the moment in still or motion colored images (with sound) and immediately post it on social media for everyone around the world to enjoy and comment on. With all the digital filters that used to take training for f-stop and contrast and brightness and depth of field, etc. it is point-and-shoot.
I don’t have volumes of photos. Carrying a camera was just another load and processing film was expensive, so I stopped taking photos. There are a few treasured memories but most of the ‘snap shots’ have been lost through the years.
Are they memories or evidence?
1 comment:
As you know, I have tons of photos, especially since digital came around to our cellphones. For nearly thirty years I took slides, then the basement of the parsonage in Grottoes flooded, and I lost quite a few of the oldest ones. Others got mildewed. Being a slow learner I continued taking slides. Then the basement of the parsonage in Fishersville flooded and more were ruined and mildewed. Every now and then I take the time to digitize the remaining hundreds of slides, and I probably still have a couple of hundred left to do. I have learned that very, very few of them are worth all the effort, but the ones that are worth it make it worthwhile overall because of the memories they hold. When I am gone I expect very few, if any, to be kept by my kids, and that's okay. After all, they are my memories. At one time my parents had several boxes of photos. A few years before she died Mom gave each of her kids the photos she felt they'd value, kept a few for herself, and threw the rest out. When she died at 105 she had fewer than a dozen photos, and several of those were on glass or tin, our civil-war era antecedents. Good blog post Clyph! -Burd
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