This morning, over coffee, I stumbled upon a quote that stopped me in my tracks:
“Reflecting on moments later (65%) is the top reason driving Americans’ photo-taking decisions.”
It struck a deep chord.
Human beings, every one of us, long to stop time’s relentless march. Of course, we’re all smart enough to know that time cannot truly be stopped. Yet, photography offers something magical: the illusion of suspension. Photography is life on pause.
As I get older, my musings—reflected in my writing—often circle around life’s impermanence and fleeting nature. Perhaps I dwell on it too much. But it’s just the way I’m wired.
It likely has quite a bit to do with my faith journey
Photography, glorious photography, provides a momentary reprieve. It delays and deters time’s relentless advance.
In a simple photograph, I find myself lost in reliving and remembering that specific moment in time and space. Is that not utterly magical? Photography allows us to stop, to pause, and to feel.
With a camera in hand, we become time suspenders. We transform into the keepers of moments. Through our photographs, we laugh again, cry again, celebrate again, bleed again, honor and respond again, create again, love again, and rejoice again.
And we can do this endlessly, 24/7, 365 days a year, from the palm of our hand.
For me, my camera is more than a tool. It’s my life support. My oxygen tank.
While I may never stop time in the scientific sense, I can revisit and savor its moments and memories—gratefully, joyfully, and endlessly—until the next one comes along.
Click
Jack.
