On Not Carrying a Camera – Cultivating memories instead of snapshots

> Were they worth it, those childbirth photographs? Did they turn out well? One did. Only one

Three angles:

A - For that one picture that's worth you might need to take a dozen.

Or sometimes 60 in burst mode. Liking to take photos in the first place makes it a different exercise and one might spend more effort and be more critical of that one good photo, but I'd assume people not that into photo will also need more sample to find the ones they really like.

B - You only know which one turns out well after the fact. I'd push it further: if you want to live in the moment and not be pixel peeping next to your newborn, you better not care too much about the result and just snap at every chance, especially as you won't be handling you camera while holding your kid.

And that's the same for every occasion. Just snapping a bunch of pictures when it's less distracting is to me the best strategy yet.

C - Unsurprisingly the pictures I absolutely loved weren't the same as my kid's for instance. A decade later he actually looked at his birth photo, and stopped for almost a minute at each one of them, and the one that hit him the most wasn't his. but a random shot of his mother looking at him. I'd feel so sorry if I didn't take that shot, it was horribly framed and totally unthought, but that's the one that hit him. Btw I'm in almost none of these shots, didn't think of it and wouldn't have cared to at the time.

There must be a balance.

Recently I met some people that were constantly filming and taking pictures of everything. It was ridiculous IMO, for the same reasons OP mentions.

This is not new. For me, it began with the rise of the smartphone. So I made it a point not to waste my time photographing things.

10 years later, I regret having essentially no pictures of anything. In particular, no "good" or "frameable" pictures (blurry pictures from funny angles don't count...). Especially from important moments. Yes, I was there living the moment. But with a picture, I could relive it for a bit.

It's not hard to find the balance, though, I guess. You don't have to constantly be filming everything. Maybe just get the group together for one picture at the end of the event and that's it. Good enough.

That's what'll I try from now on at least. Report back in 10 years...

I've taken photos on and off for decades. Too many here seem to be, much like everything else these days, all or nothing. With just a little bit of common sense/discipline it is pretty easy to balance the taking of photos with the "being there" experience. This especially applies to cell phone snapshots. You don't need to be taking tens or hundreds of shots to document an experience. A handful or less will do.

I struggle to relate to this. I have aphantasia, which means I can’t see anything in my mind’s eye.

This is most painful when I try to “imagine” my wife’s face, my family, friends, favorite parts of nature, etc, but am left with nothing.

For me, this means that I struggle to remember things from my past beyond major life events. Even major events can be fuzzy for me.

As a result, I’ve always tried to snap quick pictures of what I’m doing, even if it means I have to “step away” from enjoying the moment for a brief second.

A few months ago, I loaded my 30k+ pics (across ~10 yrs) stored on a hard drive into an Immich instance. I can now easily look at those pictures and remember my past in a way that I simply couldn’t beforehand.

This has been an unbelievable improvement in QoL through an improved self-identity, remembrance of my past, and reconnection with memories of lost loved ones.

I can agree with the author on the disruptive nature of picture taking. But for me, none of what I listed above would be possible without capturing my memories in moderation and with pointed intent.

I like to take [not very good] landscape photos. The reality is (at least for someone whose not very good) landscape photography often involves getting to specific places at weird times (often before dawn or exactly at dinner time) setting up your camera, and staring through the viewfinder for an hour or so, and snapping off shots as lighting and conditions slightly change.

While I often enjoy this experience, this just is not compatible with hanging out with people who aren’t into it. Your friends/partners will hate you. Your kids just will not stand for it in anyway.

I’ve gotten some photos I like doing this (when my friends/family were not present), but coming home from a family vacation, the photos I enjoy more are almost always the random snapshots of my kids taken in 2 seconds on my iPhone.

This really made me think. While I don't plan on not carrying my camera any time soon. I do plan on enjoying the moment first rather than trying to click a picture first.

I take photos so I can go back to them as a different person and see details I didn't see the first time.

I first visited Chicago in 2006 and took a bunch of pictures. It was all a blur to me.

Later I became a Chicago resident in 2017, and suddenly those pictures had a new meaning for me. I began to appreciate the details more. Some things didn't change (Metra tickets were clipped on top of the seat in 2006, and it still was in 2019). But the UChicago campus had evolved since my first visit in 2006. Evanston had also changed greatly.

As a new Chicagoan in 2017, it was cool for me look at 2006 pictures again with new eyes and new knowledge (e.g. I now knew the Chicago grid system, the dibs system, that deep dish isn't actually that deep, that the quality of Harolds' Chicken Shack is branch specific, etc.).

I’m an occassional photo taker, mostly because i dont like the way i look and i suffer from mild and flaring depression at times.

However when i look back to the photos from the past im happy i took them because my memory fails me or sometimes skews things.

i am happy i have these photos.

I picked up photography for a bit and definitely lived in the lens for about 2 years. What broke me out of it, I got the idea of a sunrise shot. I stayed up all night, left home about 2am. I hiked through the woods to find 150+ people already there with the same idea. I didn't know it until I asked, but there was a parking lot 100 yards from where I was at. I looked around just really confused, waited for the perfect light. I took the shot, deleted it and went home. I didn't press down the shutter button for 5+ years after that.

Now that cell phones exist and I got a super powerful camera in my pocket at all times. I really enjoy taking snapshots. Which for non-photographers are the lowest quality of photos that someone takes(1 out of 5). Occasionally, I'll do a trip to take a picture of something, but I tone down the seriousness of it and make sure that i'm not doing more than enjoying the moment and taking a snapshot. What I really missed was getting out there, it wasn't the photography. The photography just forced me to get out there.

I’d always wanted to go to Korea. I was so excited. I set out to explore and forgot my phone in the hotel.

I walked around Seoul for twelve hours that day and experienced so many wonderful things. I remember them all vividly now, years later, but I have no photos of it.

It was a relief to not document everything. I appreciated everything as a one-step process instead of a two-step process. I could just feel amazed, instead of feel amazed and hold up my camera to record it. Besides, how often do I look at those photos later, anyway? I find it more useful to refer to my journal of how I felt, instead of what I saw.

A few times, GPS could have helped, but because I didn’t have it, I had to go ask strangers for directions. Getting lost led me down some great little back roads I never would have found if I was following the map.

So now I intentionally travel without a phone.

I feel free and untethered. A break from connection.

Where you are is partially defined by where you are not. When you’re somewhere, you’re not somewhere else. But when you use your phone, you’re everywhere. You keep in touch with friends. You hear what’s going on at home. You see the screen exactly as you do anywhere else.

It’s wonderful to be cut off from everywhere else — to be more fully only there.

And it’s so nice to not know the time or where I am. Clocks and maps are useful inventions, but I see a moment better without them.

I appreciate a moment more when I know I’ll never see it again. I remember that day in Seoul better than I remember most photo-filled travels.

I'm a designer by profession but the majority of my actual schooling was in photography. Capturing a great visual moment feels second nature to me and the process feels so involuntary that you'd rarely even notice I've taken a photo. You can absolutely live in the moment and still have something to show for it.

Computer SSD can hold more books than all books you ever saw in your life.

saw, not read, saw in movies, saw in photographs, saw in magazines. all that can fit into your SSD

So just make freaking daily journal. there is plenty of space. You will be surprised what everything you did forgot. you will be surprised how your brain worked few years back. etc etc

And computer can hold more and retrieve faster then any other mechanism.

Also most wealthy people i know have their own "CRM system", where they note contents of phone calls, meetings etc, it is even easier with current state of AI/ML transcription services. They note names of children, spouse of their business partners. Hobbies, life situations, birthdays.... and they WILL look you up, right before you enter their office for joint meeting, so they can have conversation with you...