My Photo Obsession in Action
A few weeks ago, a friend and I talked about the value of photography in our lives. I explained my obsession with clouds (I always keep a camera at the ready for a stunning sky) and he described his travels free of a camera because it interferes with his sensory experience of the moment.
I couldn’t believe it. Not use a camera? I took hundreds of photos when I traveled, documenting dozens of moments (or over-documenting any one). I have photos of clouds, family, cats, and trees, self-portraits, tornadoes, and random abstractions in my life.
I remember when film limited the number of photos I could take. I had to think carefully about what was ‘camera worth’ and what wasn’t. Did I frame the image correctly? Would it turn out as I hoped. Even with digital technology, I realized that the camera has never really captured my feelings or the scene as I remembered it. In fact, digital cameras have allowed me to ignore much of the emotion in the moment as I relentlessly documented every moment of an event as it happened.
So when I went on a walk the other day, I didn’t take my camera. I knew it would be the last warm day of the season, a balmy 70 degrees outside with bright sunlight illuminating the red and gold leaves in my neighborhood.
Here’s what I experienced by paying close attention to my senses.
1. For almost the entire length of my two-mile trek, I could hear dogs barking in their yards or people mowing their lawns.
2. At six o’clock, the air in my neighborhood smells earthy and moist, even on the driest day, especially where the road dips into shadow at the bottom of a hill.
3. Colors in autumn are pure and bright with lemon leaves striking against an azure blue.
4. A subtle smoke from wood fire tinged the air, reminding me of my childhood and a Utah winter.
5. The sound of leaves crunching underfoot could only be matched by the rustling of trees in a warm breeze.
Overall, my walk sans camera reminded me that it’s sometimes best to enjoy the moment without a camera, which couldn’t have captured the other sensory experiences I enjoyed on the last day of autumn (weatherwise, that is. Autumn doesn’t officially end until Dec. 21, but that is way too late, and my friends, a different blog post).
How have technologies like cameras or video recorders affected your experience?
Another lovely post, Jen. I have a friend like yours – someone who never takes photos with a camera. I asked him once why and he gave a similar reason as your friend – said that he preferred to take mental pictures with his mind’s eye. That wise comment has stayed with me. Now that I have kids I find I alternate between periods of taking lots of photos of them and periods of simply being too busy enjoying their antics to remember to take pictures (or even to bring the camera). And then there have been those fortunate moments when the camera battery dies and so I’m “forced” to pay attention toto reality instead of trying to document it. Last summer in Turkey I was very intent on taking lots of photos and videos. I was launching my blog and also hoping to do more travel writing so I wanted to get lots of images. It was only when we got back to the US and I was reviewing the video clips that I saw the best images – they weren’t the scenery or the monuments or the street scenes – no, the best shots were the ones of my kids giggling and fooling around in the background – antics which I did not notixce in the moment but for which I am grateful now and happy that the camera saw what I di not.
Justine, you’re right on the money here. I think that the camera/video can be a metaphor for life, too. In many ways, the camera asks us to frame a moment or prioritize a few moments in our life through film in much the same way that our jobs, obligations, and fears ask us to frame how we spend our days. The irony, as you point out, is that we can miss what’s really happening in the background. In my yoga class, the instructor ends the exercise with these amazingly insightful reminders about how we can choose to live. My favorite is this: “That which we attend to becomes our reality; that which we ignore fades.” It’s made me consider on a daily basis what I attend to–what I want my reality to look like. Not that it’s easy to keep that focus, but for a little while each day, I have a few minutes where my internal lens is focused on the image of how I want my life to be. Thanks so much for stopping by!