Imbarkus
As Sartre noted in his contemplation on Hell in No Exit, the true horror is other members.
My elderly (!) mom has albums of developed prints, Polaroids, 35mm, 110's even... arranged carefully with little acid-free corner holder stickers... from the old days. Arranged with care in albums, they had value in that you could choose an occasion to sit down and review them, have an event of it. In person. I have good memories of that.
A few years back I got her a digital camera, because that was all you could get, really. She had a few prints done up at Wal-Mart, added them to the boxes of photos she stores for one-day-sorting and album selection. It was hardly more convenient than what she had done before, and somehow easier to fall behind on, since the non-developed digital photo stockpile took no more room the larger it grew, unlike an increasingly insistent pile of undeveloped film canisters.
I bought her a photo printer one day, for her birthday I believe. Print them at home! Finally more convenience! But the paper and ink cost added up to at least the cost of the Wal-Mart development, and the time and care involved just seem to make it even easier not to make physical photos. Then the refills became hard to find, because the Kodak printer was "sunsetted," as, eventually, was Kodak itself.
Another printer, then, Canon this time, Happy Birthday Mom! Have the same set of problems! Soon replaced, this model will be. Impossible to find, the cartridges will be. Outrageously priced, they were in the first place. Foreseen this, I should have. Clouded by the Darkroom, was my vision... by the memories of what photos used to mean to her, and to professionals trying to make a living licensing them, and to everyone, really.
Now she has some photos on the "legacy" Kodak digital camera, some on her favorite toy the iPad, some on an ancient PC, some on some CD's that I burned for her as backup, some printed. I know how she feels. My photo "collection" is in much the same shape.
My kids, they just leave it all up to Instagram, I guess. They're down with OPP--Other People's PC's--being the home for their photos. They don't even use photos or regard them the same way that we did before the digital revolution. Photos are like air now, like words, ephemeral, impermanent, untrustable, manipulable, forgettable. My kids favorite photos are the ones that run through Snapchat and (ostensibly) don't even exist anymore after they are viewed.
I have to admit there is an appealing freedom to that. But a sad transitory nature as well. No doubt there is a paid subscription services angling for their meager dollars in promising some permanence to their photos, should they happen to care. It's a Brave New World for them I guess.
But it's certainly more appealing than my closet full of un-albumed developed prints, and my slapdash storage of digital shots (often in low-res, early-digital camera quality) scattered across CDs and hard drives. I guess my generation got the worst of both possible photo-worlds in the transition.
What do photos mean to you, and to the family that came before you? Feel like anything was lost?
A few years back I got her a digital camera, because that was all you could get, really. She had a few prints done up at Wal-Mart, added them to the boxes of photos she stores for one-day-sorting and album selection. It was hardly more convenient than what she had done before, and somehow easier to fall behind on, since the non-developed digital photo stockpile took no more room the larger it grew, unlike an increasingly insistent pile of undeveloped film canisters.
I bought her a photo printer one day, for her birthday I believe. Print them at home! Finally more convenience! But the paper and ink cost added up to at least the cost of the Wal-Mart development, and the time and care involved just seem to make it even easier not to make physical photos. Then the refills became hard to find, because the Kodak printer was "sunsetted," as, eventually, was Kodak itself.
Another printer, then, Canon this time, Happy Birthday Mom! Have the same set of problems! Soon replaced, this model will be. Impossible to find, the cartridges will be. Outrageously priced, they were in the first place. Foreseen this, I should have. Clouded by the Darkroom, was my vision... by the memories of what photos used to mean to her, and to professionals trying to make a living licensing them, and to everyone, really.
Now she has some photos on the "legacy" Kodak digital camera, some on her favorite toy the iPad, some on an ancient PC, some on some CD's that I burned for her as backup, some printed. I know how she feels. My photo "collection" is in much the same shape.
My kids, they just leave it all up to Instagram, I guess. They're down with OPP--Other People's PC's--being the home for their photos. They don't even use photos or regard them the same way that we did before the digital revolution. Photos are like air now, like words, ephemeral, impermanent, untrustable, manipulable, forgettable. My kids favorite photos are the ones that run through Snapchat and (ostensibly) don't even exist anymore after they are viewed.
I have to admit there is an appealing freedom to that. But a sad transitory nature as well. No doubt there is a paid subscription services angling for their meager dollars in promising some permanence to their photos, should they happen to care. It's a Brave New World for them I guess.
But it's certainly more appealing than my closet full of un-albumed developed prints, and my slapdash storage of digital shots (often in low-res, early-digital camera quality) scattered across CDs and hard drives. I guess my generation got the worst of both possible photo-worlds in the transition.
What do photos mean to you, and to the family that came before you? Feel like anything was lost?