I believe our photographs belong in the real world; on walls, in frames and in albums. We want to see them and have them easily accessible. Every day.

I’m curious about the generations who follow me. What will they want?

I have boxes of old sepia and black and white photos of my ancestors, many are in a very traditional style with everyone posed together for a family portrait. Very few photos were taken all those years ago. Materials to make photographs were not readily available.

Our digital photography collection is growing exponentially

What a different story it is today. We are almost always with a (smartphone) camera in our pocket, and if not ours, in the pocket of the next person! An endless stream of digital photographs that become a challenge to tame and organise. We have multiple photographs of the same moment, sometimes even from multiple viewpoints and on multiple devices. There are so many photos, it can be overwhelming. Videos too! Will we even look at them again? How do we choose which photos to print? Which ones to delete? Who else has lost hours and hours down a rabbit-hole looking back through their phone camera roll or digital archive? I certainly have!

When little moments become the big moments

The photos I love of my family and friends are the ones where we are doing something, a moment captured that evokes a feeling for the viewer. Recalling our memories, recalling our emotions, joy, laughter, maybe they also bring about tears.

Tears. That’s a word that makes me think of longing. The people we miss. It stings a little. A lot of my own personal photos can fit this description.

Finding comfort in our photographs

The people we’ve lost. There are many from my lifetime. We are comforted seeing them again. Living in a photograph. Existing in our memories of them. I have many photos like these. Some photos I’ve taken turned out to be the last. I’m fortunate to have them. I’m grateful to have so many photos from my childhood too. I try really hard to remember my mum. I hear a hint of her laughter. I see her in my mind’s eye. I glimpse moments of memories stored deep in my mind, fragmented over time. I find myself staring at her photo. Wishing she would be by my side today. Wondering who she would be if she were here now. Trying with effort to recall who she was then. My mind asking questions I might never know the answers to.

And in that void of loss and longing, I’m comforted as this vast space fills with so much love. I miss her. I always will.

This is your reminder to photograph the small moments as well as the big ones. They’re precious too. And print them. Please do.

Need some help? I’m just a message away. Write to me!

Much love,
Natalie