We’ve Got Photos
I was about fourteen or fifteen when I first realized that almost all of the vivid memories or stories that I had from my childhood were also a picture or a video that my mom had shown me at some point long after the event had happened. When someone comes to this realization that their memories are merely memories of that memory, it can be hard to swallow. You begin to reevaluate all the so-called memories you’ve ever had. You wonder if the things you don’t have pictures of really ever happened. Or if you didn’t take a picture, did it even happen that way? Did it happen at all? Suddenly, you consider that if you don’t take a picture of this moment now, will you remember it when you’re seventy?
For years and years people have used this frozen moment in time to remember so much of their own life. Before we had photos and snapshots: it was paintings, before that drawing, sculpture, textiles, cave paintings, it was always something.
Yet, we almost never capture anything sad, have you noticed this? In nearly every photo we are smiling, laughing, proud, loving, always something, always positive. We never photograph the fights we have, the papers we got an “F” on, the time we fell off our bike, we definitely don’t take photographs at funerals. Why is that? Do we subconsciously know that we probably won’t remember it so exactly, so vividly, if there isn’t a photograph? So we use the lack of a picture as a way to help our minds forget, to allow ourselves to recover.
I want to start taking the pictures at all of these events, just to see what people would do, to see the looks on their faces as I bust out my camera and start clicking. I’ll start photographing the dead man in the casket, pushing his lips around, but not to make him smile, to make him frown, to capture the reality of the moment.
What about the other things? The everyday things; brushing our teeth, showering, cooking dinner, we never seem to take a picture of that. Sometimes those could be the things you want to remember. The daily routines that make your life comfortable, the same ones we so often neglect like they don’t matter to us. Start taking those photographs; your mother cooking that dinner you like or the dog lying on the sofa in your spot, the way the room looks right after it has been vacuumed. These are the things that make you feel good, so why not capture them to share? So often we focus on the big events when in reality it’s all those little things that keep us going. Take more pictures of yourself, including the next time you brush teeth.
Let’s face it, everyone loves sharing their photo albums, showing them off, letting everyone see how happy their family is, how many friends they have and all the joy they share together. Why not show all the friends you’ve lost and what you learned from losing each one. Why not all the old girlfriends and boyfriends; even the ugly ones or the times you sat at home alone with no one even calling to check on you. People don’t take these photos because they’re afraid to admit these things happened to them. They don’t want to remember that they were once sad or alone, that they were truly unhappy. People use photographs as a boost, a way to feel good about themselves again. We cover up all the bad, leaving behind only the good memories.
It’s almost as though we need pictures to prove to that things happened. We see this in the news all the time, using photographs to show people “this is true, this happened”. We have come to agree as a society that the photograph is rock solid, a frozen moment in time, and the truth. Now, we are entering a time where people are finding ways to distort photos with computers but those old photographs, we still believe they show a time we never saw. We still believe that is how it was exactly. Old photos are like time travel, they have a way of making us feel as though we were there in a way, sharing a story we may never be able to. This is why we form memories around photographs; they are the most believable form of communication. Everyone believes you when you have a picture to prove it.
So we need to start taking more of them, take one of every thing. I want to see each person, carrying around a camera every day; snapping shots as they go about their business. Just so they can remember it, exactly how it happened.
Ask yourself, is there maybe a reason you don’t do this? Is there a reason why we only take photos at certain moments? Have we created a ritual in photography that allows some sort of unspoken balance in life?
I originally wrote this piece in 2003 while I was attending the Corcoran College of Art + Design. At the time, I took an old Pentax camera with me everywhere I went. I wrote the essay to go along with a series of black & white photos I shot as I walked to and from my apartment to my classes in downtown Washington, DC. I’ve included two of those photos here.
I then republished this essay when I was an IB Darkroom Photography teacher at a high school in 2012. I told them I had started seeing parts of it come true. Thanks to the access my students had to digital cameras, a few of them even had cell phones with a camera as well. They were documenting everything. They were finally taking photographs of everyday life.
Today I wanted to post it here because it has become all too real. As our future children one day look back on the memories we have stored in our photographs, our videos; all shot and saved on a smartphone. What will they think of our reality, what will they think of our everyday life?
We’ve got photos. We write our history.
DC Based Artist & Educator
Corcoran College of Art + Design Alumni
Always painting, usually writing, making a living out of making art; I make my art work.
