Recently, my digital camera broke. I've carried it on me ever since I received it as a gift many years ago. It has served as an extension of my vision and memory. Sometimes I see through my photographs, the view finder, more than I see in real life. That's the problem. I use to say I am doing it for art. But all of that is just BS. My camera prevented me from truly living each and every moment. I relied on my photographs to help me remember. My camera was my crutch. Not until it broke did I realize the ways it kept me from experiencing life to its fullest.
Initially, I felt terribly lost without my camera ... just pure anguish. How will I remember? What if I don't remember? So what? Since then I've realized that it is all about what I can capture and retain in my own mind. I rely more on my memory now. Each moment is made more precious without my glass eye. There's no other physical or digital record of it.
I spend a little longer with each person. I listen more closely. I hear the emotion in someone's voice and not just the words. I observe and notice minute details, the way someone smiles, the wrinkles forming around the person's eyes. I paint my own mental portrait of the person during the encounter. I live and reflect more deeply. Life is calmer. By not imposing the responsibility to document life on myself, I indulge in it more fully. It is about the here and now. Being present. Being. Living.
Life is ephemeral. Beauty is ephemeral. Why hold on? Letting go is beautiful. Living, loving, aging, dying - the whole process is beautiful.
