Snapshots, Selfies, and Some Guy

When I was growing up, my family did not take many photographs. We had a camera, I think we even had a Polaroid at one time, but we did not capture many moments on film. It would take two or three Christmases to exhaust a roll of Kodak or Fuji film, and once developed; we would be reminded that no one would have a future in photography. Only about ten frames of a 36-exposure roll of film would be of any archival quality. The remaining images would contain photos of the sky, someone's nostrils, bodies with no heads, crotch closeups, and at least five blank prints. I assume the series of events leading up to capturing photos went something like this:

1) Dad would take 20 minutes to figure out if the camera was on, loaded with film, if the flash was working, and performing the inadvertent test of the shutter button (nostril shot).

2) Someone (usually Dad) would snap a handful of still and action shots to include blinking eyes and open mouths.

3) One of us kids (usually me) would abscond with the camera and take multiple photos from our visual vantage point (hence the crotch snaps).

4) Someone (also, usually me) would open the film compartment before reaching the roll's end and expose the remaining frames rendering them useless.

If it were not for school pictures, student id cards, and driver's licenses, we would not know what our family looked like before 1995.

The 2000s brought a new era. With the developments in digital photography and the invention of the modern smartphone, nostril and crotch photos (unintended snaps anyway) became a thing of the past. We were now free to document our lives unfettered and delete any images that were not to our liking.

As technology has advanced, we now use applications and software to edit digital images until our faces, bodies, and surrounding scenery are all unrecognizable. We can also crop and remove people and objects that hinder the desired aesthetic of our photos. If only life was as easy as amateur photography.

I have shoeboxes, photo albums, CDs, hard drives, and the cloud full of memories of my life. Family, friends, vacations, celebrations, and the birth of my only child have been captured, shared, and framed for display; and will be cherished for years to come. I have a visual timeline of adulthood, my daughter's childhood and growth into adulthood, and my parents' transition from middle age to their golden age.

These memories also contain images of people who are no longer in my life - people who have left my side by death, distance, or by the conclusion of friendships and relationships. The connection is gone, but the photographed moments in time remain.

I have over 20 years of photos of myself celebrating birthdays, holidays, and life events standing next to "Some Guy" that is long gone from my life by either circumstance or choice (mine or his). Looking back, some of these memories are good, some are bad, and some are painful, and I wish I would have taken the time to snap one or two extra photos of just myself without Some Guy.   I have spent much of my life emotionally, financially, and spiritually standing on my own. Still, somehow, I consistently documented the existence and importance of others' fleeting interest or commitment rather than love and devotion to myself. I allowed myself to be overlooked both literally and figuratively. Twenty years of recorded self-abandonment is far too many.

Until now, I have viewed selfies as a vain overindulgence of ego and avoided capturing moments and images of my most crucial connection - MYSELF. My memories do not have to be contingent on who is standing beside me, but on the person living inside me. I have worked hard to get to where I am on my own and will allow myself some solo time in the spotlight instead of placing myself in the shadows of Some Guy. It's time to come home to my selfie 😉.  

Previous
Previous

The Ex-Factor

Next
Next

Take Me Anywhere but Fishing