Photo Evidence

Photographs are simply a reminder of what once was, what is not, and what never will be. There is no time machine allowing ourselves to re-experience moments, we are expected to make new memories, or new photographs, to trump the nostalgic power of the others. If this is the case, however, then why does our society love pictures so much? Why are we forcing ourselves out of these true moments to falsely commemorate a specific point in time?

I believe the answer is addiction. Society is too afraid of forgetting and too longing of what will be the "future-past" to allow themselves to actually live in the moment. Photographs have evolved to represent memories more than our real memories do.

As I've already talked about my photo-walls in a previous post, another really easy example of this phenomenon would be spring break. For my 'stress reliever,' I visited Siesta Key with one of my good friends. Honestly, it was amazing--there's nothing more I love than the warmth and the beach and the little shops and late nights. We got baby donuts every morning at the donut stand, burnt ourselves every afternoon, then wandered around the town at night. But was I really living in the moment, if I incessantly snapped my meals, having photoshoots next to the palms, and posting post after post of the oceans? And, the second I came home, up until this moment, I still obsessively scroll through my camera roll, staring at my old memories. As if it's proof it really happened, and that I was legitimately happy for a week. It's sad to realize that the photos almost mean more than those undocumented moments.

This being my last blog, it might help to explain a portion of my blog title. Once, I burned some pictures. I broke my number one rule, that is, to not touch the pictures scattered around my bedroom walls, in hopes that burning the pictures would somehow erase the memories behind them. Or, maybe a more relatable example for those -less severe- people, we tend to delete photos of the people not in our lives anymore. Deleting equates forgetting, and without the photographs, those memories just might cease to exist. Does it work? A little. Because, in a world where photographs have more meaning than life itself, they exist to give us false representatives of just how great the past is. And, without them, we don't have to be reminded of past moments, now deemed bad.

In the pictures you see, I am unbelievably and truly happy. And, I love looking at them. It's hard to say that all photos lie, with photos like these--photos I wouldn't trade for the world. Yet, they feed my addiction to the past. They ban me from allowing myself to remember without the evidence. They tell the truth about society's newfound dependence, because, for whatever reason, society has decided that moments can no longer exist independently. Because really, if there's no picture proof, did it happen?

Farewell to blogging--thank you to all everyone who stuck around. I'll finally apologize for constantly getting way too personal!

Abby