In an era of digital clutter, how should we document our lives? An obsession with capturing each and every moment might have a bigger effect on our reality than we realize.
Interesting piece! It brought to mind the current New Yorker piece on Maine children’s book artists & illustrators. Robert McCloskey’s daughters were asked whether they remembered the scenes their father chose to illustrate in One Morning in Maine and other books. The answer was yes —because they were incessantly being asked to pose for them. He’d offer a quarter for an hour of posing, but he didn’t always remember to pay. So what might strike others as an idyllic childhood (and no doubt was, in many ways) was also remembered as the tedium of being asked to sit still while Dad worked.
Thanks for reading and for sharing your thoughts. I just found myself reading that same piece last night and indeed she taps into another form of how we document through stories. Perhaps our habit of anticipating reality predates photography then, when we think of posing for artists to capture a scene.
Often what stays with us might be the tedium, despite how much we might treasure the more unique moments. I know that years from now, when I think back on my current time in Paris what I'll remember most is likely the dreariness of my daily commute on the métro.
As a certified Boomer, great to see Sontag in the mix. Legend. Makes me want to go back and revisit her other work. I’m sure each generation’s relationship with documentation has evolved with the evolution of the technology. Speaking of evolution, might there be an element of desire for control a sort of hoarding built into the now quotidian habit of photographing every cappuccino and amuse-gueule placed before us? I remember when the visiting Buddhist monks made the exquisite mandala in the Camden library and then blurred it back into an amorphous jumble and poured it into the bay. Their amazing capacity for letting go. Thanks for the thoughtful read!
Wonderful piece and so true about our lives with instant photography, over documentation and scrolling through hundreds of images after the fact. It is time to take a break from this habit--it is long overdue. Your writing here is meaningful and made me realize that when we say -- "no photos of this or that this time around"-- that we are making the better decision all around--a decision to simply enjoy the village scene, the view, the dog, the whatever it is.
Appreciate the support, Paul. I’m glad the piece resonated with you. Indeed, I think we are often better off just being the moment rather than trying to capture it - whatever that moment may be.
Fascinating! I am in the habit of photographing and sending daily highlights to my mom (99). She always tells me how much she loves them - makes us feel connected and gives context for conversation. When my mom departs, loss of this practice will probably sting for a long time. I am already wondering how my phone-camera life will change. (I too have many photos and videos of my dog, Lulu.)
Thanks for the support Julie! I think that method of communicating through images would well qualify under what Baraasch considers sharing with close ones - a form of documentation where we are doing so free of concern of how we are being perceived and where the goal is certainly not any form of personal branding.
It is then, a demonstration of photography as a tool for good - the ability to share a singular experience with others, a shared joy.
Your comment helped me realize that I have probably undervalued my smartphone’s capability for quick documentation and broadcasting, which indeed served as a wonderful way of communicating with my own mother from thousands of miles away since moving to Europe. Having lost her, I definitely feel that sting you describe, though I’m immensely grateful for the time and memories I did share with her.
Interesting piece! It brought to mind the current New Yorker piece on Maine children’s book artists & illustrators. Robert McCloskey’s daughters were asked whether they remembered the scenes their father chose to illustrate in One Morning in Maine and other books. The answer was yes —because they were incessantly being asked to pose for them. He’d offer a quarter for an hour of posing, but he didn’t always remember to pay. So what might strike others as an idyllic childhood (and no doubt was, in many ways) was also remembered as the tedium of being asked to sit still while Dad worked.
Hi Martha!
Thanks for reading and for sharing your thoughts. I just found myself reading that same piece last night and indeed she taps into another form of how we document through stories. Perhaps our habit of anticipating reality predates photography then, when we think of posing for artists to capture a scene.
Often what stays with us might be the tedium, despite how much we might treasure the more unique moments. I know that years from now, when I think back on my current time in Paris what I'll remember most is likely the dreariness of my daily commute on the métro.
Thanks again for sharing 😊
As a certified Boomer, great to see Sontag in the mix. Legend. Makes me want to go back and revisit her other work. I’m sure each generation’s relationship with documentation has evolved with the evolution of the technology. Speaking of evolution, might there be an element of desire for control a sort of hoarding built into the now quotidian habit of photographing every cappuccino and amuse-gueule placed before us? I remember when the visiting Buddhist monks made the exquisite mandala in the Camden library and then blurred it back into an amorphous jumble and poured it into the bay. Their amazing capacity for letting go. Thanks for the thoughtful read!
Wonderful piece and so true about our lives with instant photography, over documentation and scrolling through hundreds of images after the fact. It is time to take a break from this habit--it is long overdue. Your writing here is meaningful and made me realize that when we say -- "no photos of this or that this time around"-- that we are making the better decision all around--a decision to simply enjoy the village scene, the view, the dog, the whatever it is.
Thank you and thank you Michelle.
Appreciate the support, Paul. I’m glad the piece resonated with you. Indeed, I think we are often better off just being the moment rather than trying to capture it - whatever that moment may be.
Fascinating! I am in the habit of photographing and sending daily highlights to my mom (99). She always tells me how much she loves them - makes us feel connected and gives context for conversation. When my mom departs, loss of this practice will probably sting for a long time. I am already wondering how my phone-camera life will change. (I too have many photos and videos of my dog, Lulu.)
Thanks for the support Julie! I think that method of communicating through images would well qualify under what Baraasch considers sharing with close ones - a form of documentation where we are doing so free of concern of how we are being perceived and where the goal is certainly not any form of personal branding.
It is then, a demonstration of photography as a tool for good - the ability to share a singular experience with others, a shared joy.
Your comment helped me realize that I have probably undervalued my smartphone’s capability for quick documentation and broadcasting, which indeed served as a wonderful way of communicating with my own mother from thousands of miles away since moving to Europe. Having lost her, I definitely feel that sting you describe, though I’m immensely grateful for the time and memories I did share with her.