I took this photo in December, up in Montana. I keep going back to it for some reason. I'm not sure why. It reminds me of my childhood in elementary school, a not so happy period. It's not my school. I grew up in Chicago. There's something beautiful about this school to me now, I guess because it represents a simplicity that just isn't there in my life anymore, although it also brings up feelings of anxiety as well. I love the light on the building, the simple geometry of it, the cold, quiet feeling of midwinter.
I made the mistake of deciding, last weekend, that I would reorganize an entire box of photos that have been sitting, entirely disorganized, for a long, long time. It turned into a much longer project than I suspected, and now they're back in the box at least, partially organized. This box of photos spans from 1985 till now. Wow, that was a trip. I don't think I was ready for the E! True Hollywood Story.
It's made me realize that I used to smile a lot more — at least the ride was a little more enjoyable. I'm not sure if life just got more serious, or if I started taking it a lot more seriously, but these days the muscles in my brow are working a lot harder than my smile, and it used to be the other way around. New goal: Have more fun.
It also got me thinking about digital photography. Starting a little over a year ago, there's no tangible record of my life, except the fragile bits of data that comprise the iPhoto library. This can be deleted in seconds. On the other hand, I don't have a gigantic box of photos to organize. There is something to be said for both methods of organization. I can find any photo I want on my computer with ease, however, I do enjoy holding a photograph in my hand and looking at it, or paging through an album.
I recently backed up my entire iPhoto library on CDs for fear I would lose it to some hard disk crash. Is that smart or just paranoid? One year took up approximately 12 CDs.
With the advent of digital photography and weblogs, have we become obsessed with recording our own lives? And will the intangible, transient nature of digital information mean that in the future we will be remembered or forgotten?
