Turns out, that 'later' never really happened. Friends moved on, and now, I barely have any photos from back then, and my kids love looking at the old photos I do have. Capture everything, especially as it couldn't be easier now.
Turns out, that 'later' never really happened. Friends moved on, and now, I barely have any photos from back then, and my kids love looking at the old photos I do have. Capture everything, especially as it couldn't be easier now.
I went to a firework display last month and two teenagers in front of us stood side by side, both videoing the fireworks. Not just holding their phones up, they watched the entire display on their phone screen. Surely that's missing out on something?
I did my best to take pictures. So in many cases I was focused on taking pictures rather than participating. Pictures are nice and I know other people love having them. Which is nice. But sometimes I feel I missed out on some stuff being behind the lense.
I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the author of this piece was a college student at the time. I wonder if their perspective will change revisiting this article a decade or so later.
(as a parent I feel it a hundred times over. I want to be entirely present but already feel extreme nostalgia for the days my kids were younger and love to watch old videos. It’s a constant balancing act.)
My memory also kinda sucks. As I got really into Instagram, I became one of those annoying folks that was sticking the phone out everywhere to get a picture. I particularly liked snapping shots during music events. I convinced myself that this will help me remember what I’ve done and give me something to fondly look back on.
Flashing forward, neither of those things really came true. I rarely looked back at the photos (most of them were too poor of quality to be particularly useful), I was rarely in them, and it didn’t help memory much. Instead, I was mostly just seeking feedback and attention from social media peers, the event I thought I was commemorating was just grist for the mill. I found myself being more interested in collecting evidence of living my life to post than actually enjoying it.
I got rid of almost all social media a couple of years ago. I don’t miss it whatsoever. More to the point, I’ve become more aware of how disruptive this phenomenon is. For me, writing things down in a journal was way more effective for my memory and capturing context. I take less photos, keeping the phone put away until the end when I ask people for a quick group photo or two, but now the quality has gone up, I’m actually in them, and I’m not interrupting people by constantly sticking my phone in their face. Quality over quantity, IMO.
But amongst that hoard was some pictures of valuable memories, or places and people that no longer exist. I realised that I didn't have a single picture of my cat who passed away shortly after I lost all the pictures.
Now I don't take that many photos, and I don't let the activity of taking photos get in the way of any experience, but even the blurry crappy photos I make sure are thoroughly synced and then backed up.
Video is tricky. I find simply aiming in the right general direction without looking in the viewfinder means you get crappy video and can still stay in the moment. Then when watching it you kick of the actual memory even if the video isn’t that good.
There are better memories to be had if you have someone to share with.
I’ve also generally found that even bad photos are good enough for triggering memories, and so the important thing is to take a photo, any photo, and not obsess over the details. (At least for photos you’re primarily taking for personal reasons.)