Picture Love
Those of who take pictures and those of us who love pictures know this central truth. We take pictures to give some measure of permanence to things that are here today and gone tomorrow. The act of taking a picture is our way of fixing that memory in our minds and hearts. We line up in groups at family reunions and snap a picture. We mark our children’s first day of school with a quick photo. We spend a small fortune on wedding pictures. All so that we may remember what we hold dear.
A friend wrote today to ask if I could do her a small favor. Her brother-in-law had passed away suddenly. The family simply didn’t have many pictures of this person and they were scrambling to come up with a usable picture for his obituary. Could I crop out her brother-in-law from a group photo to create a small head shot for an obituary? I did my best, working from a small, low resolution image. And I was happy to help.
But all of this got me thinking about the practicality of photography. For all the talk of artful photographs, many of us would give anything to hold in our hands just one small reminder of those we love. To that printed picture we may apologize; we may pray; we may beg; we may weep; we may sing; we may be filled with joy or sorrow. But that picture is the thing that activates our nervous system so that we might feel anchored to all that holds meaning for us.
Mom at the Bedroom Window | Donna Hopkins, 2016
I’m taking a mental note to be sure to take pictures of the people I love.