As I mentioned in a previous post, there are several other blogs that I read. One of them, jennster wrote a very evocative post about the mementos that she saves. Letters, journals, photo albums and yearbooks.
It got me to thinking as I share the same tendency.
To wit: I committed one large cardboard box to all of the written memories of my younger years. It contains the clandestine notes that I saved (from various teacher’s grips) from Middle and High School; the love notes scribbled on scrap paper; and the lengthier letters, still stuffed in their original envelopes from friends or paramours who were not close by. There are also the poems that I wrote, when I envisioned myself as a tragic teen poet while listening to (and heavily borrowing from) Air Supply, Journey, and REO Speedwagon.
Additionally, I have carefully kept all of my Yearbooks. I have tucked newspaper articles into the pages that tell of the triumphs of my former classmates as well as those that contain the obituaries of those who have passed.
And my photos…I would be bereft without them. My childhood and teen years are painstakingly logged by my long-ago-sophomoric hands in now water damaged and smudged photo albums. There are a couple of photo books that contain pictures from my early twenties…and then of course there are the albums from Taylor’s babyhood. Those pictures of her first smile, first movement, first solid food, first (insert milestone here) experience and in various poses with her adoring family are lovingly catalogued.
Once she hit 5, and I 30, the photos remained in their developer’s envelopes. I rely on my handwritten dates of when they were developed to pile them in a haphazard way into several large boxes.
Now, a decade later, many of my memories and photos are in a different place. One that gives me unease. For the last 12 or so years, in this age of technology, most of my correspondence with old and current friends takes place via e-mail or more recently on Facebook. I already have one whole HUGE, ancient old desktop computer I cannot bear to part with because I know it contains the equivalent of a cardboard box full of e-mails from my late 20’s and early 30’s. Also, too much of my daughter’s youth has been captured via a digital camera.
An entire generation has their memories on soft copy. As convenient as it is…it is too easily erased.
When I travel to NYC the second week of July, I have strong desire to bring my trusty 35 mm Canon A1 and a notebook. Otherwise, many years from now when I am gone…there may not be a record of when I see my daughter for the first time in 30 days…for all posterity.
To underscore my thoughts on real versus digital images, Edith Shain died today. She was the young nurse grabbed for a dip and kiss which was captured in the iconic photo (and the one at the beginning of this post) that embodied the end of WWII. I can’t help but wonder if that fleeting, yet triumphant moment might have been overlooked if Alfred Eisenstaedt had a digital camera.
So to all the horders and holders, how do you feel about trusting your memories to the digital age? How to you hold onto your precious hard and e-copies of your memories?
To wit: I committed one large cardboard box to all of the written memories of my younger years. It contains the clandestine notes that I saved (from various teacher’s grips) from Middle and High School; the love notes scribbled on scrap paper; and the lengthier letters, still stuffed in their original envelopes from friends or paramours who were not close by. There are also the poems that I wrote, when I envisioned myself as a tragic teen poet while listening to (and heavily borrowing from) Air Supply, Journey, and REO Speedwagon.
Additionally, I have carefully kept all of my Yearbooks. I have tucked newspaper articles into the pages that tell of the triumphs of my former classmates as well as those that contain the obituaries of those who have passed.
And my photos…I would be bereft without them. My childhood and teen years are painstakingly logged by my long-ago-sophomoric hands in now water damaged and smudged photo albums. There are a couple of photo books that contain pictures from my early twenties…and then of course there are the albums from Taylor’s babyhood. Those pictures of her first smile, first movement, first solid food, first (insert milestone here) experience and in various poses with her adoring family are lovingly catalogued.
Once she hit 5, and I 30, the photos remained in their developer’s envelopes. I rely on my handwritten dates of when they were developed to pile them in a haphazard way into several large boxes.
Now, a decade later, many of my memories and photos are in a different place. One that gives me unease. For the last 12 or so years, in this age of technology, most of my correspondence with old and current friends takes place via e-mail or more recently on Facebook. I already have one whole HUGE, ancient old desktop computer I cannot bear to part with because I know it contains the equivalent of a cardboard box full of e-mails from my late 20’s and early 30’s. Also, too much of my daughter’s youth has been captured via a digital camera.
An entire generation has their memories on soft copy. As convenient as it is…it is too easily erased.
When I travel to NYC the second week of July, I have strong desire to bring my trusty 35 mm Canon A1 and a notebook. Otherwise, many years from now when I am gone…there may not be a record of when I see my daughter for the first time in 30 days…for all posterity.
To underscore my thoughts on real versus digital images, Edith Shain died today. She was the young nurse grabbed for a dip and kiss which was captured in the iconic photo (and the one at the beginning of this post) that embodied the end of WWII. I can’t help but wonder if that fleeting, yet triumphant moment might have been overlooked if Alfred Eisenstaedt had a digital camera.
So to all the horders and holders, how do you feel about trusting your memories to the digital age? How to you hold onto your precious hard and e-copies of your memories?
3 comments:
I worry about this too. I have a folder that I drop pics I want to print into and then I'll have an online printer do them for me (someday).
My most serious problem is that with the capability of holding 4000 pictures on a chip, I don't know when to stop taking them. Or when not to.
With 24 or 27 exposures, we made every picture count. Now we take multiple pictures of our cat's anus and download them onto the computer...where they rusticate. It's a problem.
mystic, I agree. I was so much more careful when I knew that every exposure was 35 mm and limited to 24 or 36. Additionally, it is difficult to digitally capture a moment on film. My legacy Canon A1 is way more responsive.
Thanks so much for the comment!
i just love that you wrote this.. and sorry it took me 300 years to respond to it. i really suck lately. i blame it on my new brain- it's called unemployment brain... which equals brainsuck. lol
it is weird to have everything online- but there are times that on trips and whatnot, i will PRINT out all the pictures so that i can do things with them, like frame them, or put them in a photo album.. you know?
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