By now, it’s pretty much unanimous that technology can either be medicine or poison, right? I mean, that’s as much of a given as the ISness of gravity, or the roundness of our beloved mother earth… We’ve all bled hours of our precious existence into insatiable scrolling down our bottomless Facebook feed, while we could have been writing a profound and meaningful memoir, composing a soulful opus, or adding our genius to the growing network of clean energy solutions… And equally, we have also expanded our networks globally, easily connecting with clients who need our healing gifts and god-given talents, tapped an infinitude of amazing recipes and holistic healing remedies via the omniscience of Google-Almighty.
Since we are all united in this wondrous conundrum of sci-fi-come-true, here at the precipice of 2016, let’s talk about the power of print. What ever happened to our dear old friend, the family photo album? I remember being small and delighted, snuggling up on the couch with my family, many-a-evening, and drinking in the memories we co-created as we adventured through life together. Family vacations, trips to the aquarium, the beach, epic easter egg hunts and holiday feasts! We captured so much joy, exploration and togetherness on film… and relived it often, fed again and again by the replenishing nutrients of our life and times as captured in glossy, rectangular, frozen frames.
Then, along came “progress”. Being the civilized, modern family we were, we graduated to slides… which wasn’t quite straigh-up poison… I mean we still had to gather together for my dad’s adorably geeky slideshows. It was still an event. Still a fun and special way to come together as a family. But then it would be over, and those memories were lost to the no-woman’s-land of attics and shoe boxes and cumbersome equipment.
Next, enter the Millennium, stage left. The year two thousand, and the dawn of digital photography. Which, in a blinding flash, became smart phone cameras. And what happened to photographs? They became cheap and easy glowing images on an essential, grown-up toy that is mostly mistaken for a robotic extension of our very own body-mind. Our now exponential memories sit forsaken in remote hard drives, as we are too busy keeping up with the dizzying pace of the technological revolution to even contemplate the empty space in our lives where the luxury of good old fashioned photo album reminiscing with our nearest and dearest once abided.
As a photographer, this sad state of affairs reared up and glared me in the glazed over, smartphone comatose eyes. As I reawakened to the missing of the power of print in my home and family, and the evolutionary ride that is this life, I have made a conscious effort to compile the creme de la creme of beautiful, sacred moments, and print them into books and albums. It required a downshift; a discipline to resurrect this “lost art”, this source of communion and healing remembrance. But it has been well worth it! Once again, my family has something that we can touch, share and pass down to future generations. Our treasured memories will not disintegrate into the ether when our smartphones poop out, or our hard drives crash. They will live on, in some small semblance of forever. For this, I feel victorious and satisfied.
Will you join me in reclaiming the power of print?
