I'm addicted to paper
Some thoughts on nostalgia and printed photography
What a weekend!
I spent the last three days defragging my library and upstairs office and am reminded again what a paper nut I turned out to be. For the past twenty years, I have collected books, magazines, posters, and postcards. I’ve scribbled notes, kept letters, and amassed an enormous amount of photography. What can I say? I love print ephemera. All of this stuff compounds. It’s a problem, especially when you live in a little old house that isn’t getting any bigger.
At the same time, I’m reminded of how deeply connected I am to physical media. That’s why I love books: they last. Print matters! I’m reflecting again on printed pictures: we sometimes overlook the emotional experience of looking at analog photography. For one thing, it’s tactile, which must have something to do with it. Photography smells! There’s something about looking at printed pictures that resonates differently than so many smartphone photography albums. Do you know what I mean?
For better or worse, we appear to have lost our collective appreciation for the thingness of photography. Kristen and I spent yesterday afternoon looking at old family photographs and sharing stories and memories with each other. I realized yesterday that she and I rarely make printed photo memories with each other. Everything exists on our phones, in the cloud, to be shared online and maybe — sadly — to someday be forgotten.
I’ve been writing about pictures on FlakPhoto for nearly twenty years. Based on the accumulation of print matter in this house, I’ve been collecting notes from photographers for nearly as long. There appears to be a growing trend among photographers to make analog photography, which is encouraging. But in revisiting my postcards and prints yesterday afternoon, I noticed that something has changed in my world: photographers don’t send letters like they used to.
I spent hours yesterday looking at handwritten notes from people worldwide who practice photography. That reminded me of the old days when I was starting out. Many of us were coming online back then, and printed postcards were still a dominant part of photography marketing and communication. I know it’s still out there, but anecdotally, it seems to have been downshifted. I get it: print is expensive, and newsletters do the job more affordably and efficiently. Email is personal, but it’s hard to beat a handwritten note.
My dad was a U.S. mail carrier for over forty years. He delivered our mail to the kitchen table, which, in retrospect, is pretty unique. But that meant that mail was a deeply personal part of our family life. I’m old enough to remember when getting something in the mail was exciting. When I was a kid, I couldn’t wait to grow up because it meant I would get my own mail. I’m still eager to run downstairs when I hear our delivery guy, Pete, dropping something in the mailbox.
I spent my Sunday afternoon reading postcards from FlakPhoto friends who’d written me with project updates, personal news, and notes of appreciation. It felt good to revisit those memories, and I intend to follow up with some of these photographers this week. It was a lovely walk down memory lane, but it made me feel a little sad, too, because the ritual of handwritten note-writing seems to have faded in recent years like so many other technologies. Maybe it’s just me, but I’m not so sure.
I love corresponding with photography people. I thought it would be fun to send some notes to you, my readers, in the coming months. Does that sound intriguing? Drop me a line if you want to hear from me. I plan to pick up some postcards and write to some of you this year. And if you keep a printed mailing list, I’d love to be on it. Please email me, and I’ll send you my mailing address.
Do you still print your family photographs? Or have you gone entirely digital? It’s hard to beat the convenience, but I worry that we’ll all be forty years older someday and wish we had made printed pictures to remember things by. Or maybe we’ll look at the pictures we make today on VR goggles, projection screens, or some wearable device that hasn’t yet been invented. Who knows?
I’m feeling nostalgic and looking back fondly on pictures I made twenty years ago. I’m a romantic and it feels good to engage with photography like this. I know some of you can relate. Let me know what you think. I love hearing from you. Cheers!
This! “ For better or worse, we appear to have lost our collective appreciation for the thingness of photography.”
I feel the same way! I've pared down most of my possessions over the years, even books, but I still have thousands of printed photos and hundreds of letters. My dream for old age is to sit on a porch and spend my days re-reading those letters and looking at pictures.