You know how your mom has several hundreds of glossy 4×6’s of you as a baby/child/kid/adolescent in an album or a box in her basement? Yeah, my mom does too. It may sound crazy, given my profession, but I have this recurring nightmare of my daughter growing up with gorgeous portraits of milestones and NOTHING else except Instagram. This has kept me up at night more than once.
It’s not that I don’t value the accessibility that these camera apps afford us or appreciate the little moments so quickly recorded to my Facebook, it’s that it means something to me when I hold my parent’s albums and look through them. It feels more real than an app. I guess the tangibility feels like proof. Just as there is something to be said for the sheer volume of pixel-y, breezy moments we snap snap snap all day…..I feel there is also value in my daughter one day holding a photo of the first day of spring in 2014 with Belvita biscuits coating her 19 month-old face.
I happen to have a camera that is often within a few step’s reach. But, hey. Remember that point and shoot most of us have from like, 2005? Couldn’t we print some of those Instagram moments? ((for a real paper treat, go check out Artifact Uprising.)) Put them in a pretty frame to pass by every day or even just a photo box that your friends/your kids/your family/visiting friends/strangers/random people/YOU can open one day and feel that rush the way we all have. Our kids won’t know that feeling unless we make something touchable from these beautiful moments we all keep on our phones.