I am not a picture taker.
Now, that’s not to say I never take pictures – there are plenty of pictures of my garden, my daughter, parties and get-togethers. But for me, photographs are an afterthought, “Oh, maybe I should be taking some pictures of this.”. I think I’m too much in the moment to think about recording it. Consequently, I am often left with “pictureless guilt”, looking back on an event and wishing I had taken a few.
Take this weekend for example. We go to visit the mothers and grandmothers in our lives, flitting from place to place. Hugs from a two year old, visits to goats and pigs (including one nearly the size of a cow!), the wonder of a child, and yet, not a single shred of evidence, except for what sits between my ears.
I know that there used to be no pictures – if you wanted to remember something you needed to draw it. Then there were the film cameras – cumbersome, continuous cost, inconvenient to develop. But now, in the digital age, it’s so easy – I even made sure that my latest phone had a good camera on it, since I am so often without my point and shoot. And yet, there are still huge gaps in the pictography of my life. I’m at least thankful that I have in-laws that love to take pictures, they have certainly filled some of the voids.
Do you take pictures? Do you always remember to, or is it an afterthought? Or are your fingers itching to snap that little button over and over and over again?