So many of my memories are tied to the photos I hold in my hand, hang on my wall, see on my screen.
I scroll through image after image and re-ride the roller coaster of my life.
I have thousands of images categorized and cataloged chronologically.
Sometimes I wonder what will happen to them all when I am gone.
I don’t print enough of them.
If I did, I tell myself, that’d be just another thing to store, to organize, to save.
And I can’t pick my favorites and print just those.
When I’m in Mommy-mode, they’re all my favorites.
But when I’m in photographer mode, I find flaws in each one.
Not of the subjects, but the lighting or the angle or the color.
I should have seen this.
I should have changed that.
I should have shot that from above.
I should have, I should have…
The past few months I’ve favored my phone to my camera.
I love that it is always with me.
I love that it is easy to use.
I love that I can edit quickly and share with others.
I told myself that I was trying to be more in the moment.
I was trying to live it instead of capture it.
And sometimes I was glad I did,
But there are also times when I wish I’d taken ‘real’ pictures.
I scan through our lives and see our life beautiful, but grainy.
Each shot brings back the moment, the emotion…and yet, it seems insufficient.
And I worry that maybe I should have made more effort, maybe I should have tried harder.
But in the end, my pictures are for me and for them, and will we look back and care that the lines are a little blurry?
Or that we don’t see the catch light in our eyes?
Or that you can’t blow it up to colossal sizes?
Or will we just be grateful that time allowed us to stop it, if ever so briefly, and savor it for a lifetime?
I want to capture everyday.
I want to capture everything and nothing.
And although I love the sharp lines and brilliant colors,
I don’t think it really matters how I do that, but that I do it.