Living Not Capturing the Moment
When we see something extraordinary, whether it’s breathtaking scenery, or the
unique behaviour of a funny cat on the street, almost as an instinct, we whip out our
phones to capture the moment within the screen. We take the photo thinking it will help
us remember the present forever. But, while we are so preoccupied with taking these
photos, are we really enjoying ourselves and living in the moment?
Nowadays, photographs are the new way of communication. Social media sites
are primarily photo-based. The concept is straightforward; all we must do is press a
button and it is ready to share with the world. It’s tempting to think that within less than a
second, we can frame the memory and save it forever. This, however, begs the question:
are we truly collecting memories, or simply proof of our experiences?
I like to sort casual photography into two kinds, posed and candid. Posed
photography being when we place ourselves in front of scenery or a monument, posing
awkwardly while plastering a forced smile and squinting from the blinding sunlight.
Candid photography being a photo captured openly in the process of doing something
and living in the moment. When looking back on the posed photos, there is never much
of a story behind it, as the photo does not depict our true feelings from the moment.
Presented is simply a fake smile and proof that we had been there. In contrast, when
scanning the candid photos, the story behind them shines through. These photos evoke
true memories, the emotions that were genuinely endured and the sentiment of that
moment.
Often, on sightseeing vacations, it seems as if we travel simply for the purpose of
taking photos, yet it would seem crazy to not have our cameras out. I remember when I
vacationed to Italy last year; it was hot, humid, and blazingly sunny. When paired with
the limitless amount of tourists roaming the streets and the long walks to reach the next
tourist attraction, I personally found touring an incredibly gruelling job. When we arrived
at the legendary colosseum, my parents were insistent on reaching the top, boundless
stairs away. We began the long, tiring trek towards the top where the sun was sizzling
and the crowds were the biggest. Finally, after the laborious climb, we got our first
glance at the breathtaking scene below us, but after no more than five seconds, we
started looking for a good place to take a photo. Once again, posing awkwardly and
plastering a forced smile while squinting from the blinding sunlight. Crowds of people
watched us, waiting eagerly to be the next to claim that spot to snap their own photos.
After successfully taking our photos, we simply retreated directly to the bottom of the
stairs, barely ever taking the time to have truly admired the beautiful scenery we had
worked so hard to reach. While scrolling through the numerous photos taken in Italy, I
was truly awestruck by how beautiful the country is; however, it was hard to remember
what it felt like to stand so tall and look down at the ground or any real experiences after
reaching the top of the colosseum other than how unbearably hot it was. Everything felt
so 2D, as if we were simply photoshopped into the photos and did not show any real
emotions.
Other times, a photo truly captures something amazing. Something that would
otherwise be forgotten. That photo might have been taken from the shadows, unknown
by the stars of the frame. It could be a couple chatting animatedly by the lake or two
children fighting over a meaningless toy. The photos that may evoke the joy and warmth
of each other’s embrace or the naive anger and frustration over the ownership of a trifle.
I have a childhood friend who I grew up with, bantering and laughing with. As young
children, we had countless photos taken together by our parents while we were messing
about. Photos of us asleep in the car, of us, crawling around tables and chairs, as well as
photos of us fighting. As the years went on, candid photos were few and far between.
Most became photos of us standing side-by-side as if in the military. These photos hold
no true meaning, simply a boy and a girl staring intently at the camera, while the earlier,
candid photos only become more and more precious as time flies by. These candid
photos represent the connection shared between the two of us, not just two awkward
children shoulder-to-shoulder.
So, why are baby photos always so precious? As a baby, you have no conscience
of smiling or posing for the camera, and yet these are often our most cherished, special
photos.
Never let the act of taking photos hinder you from enjoying the moment and
experiencing it through one’s own two eyes instead of through a camera lens. Pay more
attention to whether or not we are truly experiencing the experience or simply framing it
in a photo. We should make memories and live life fully with family and friends instead of
centering our attention around a camera. We should not spend our life trying to capture
the moment. Instead, we should live in the moment and enjoy it. So, the next time you are
about to whip out your camera, I urge you to ask yourself, “am I living or capturing the
moment?”