Your House is On Fire. Or Floodwaters are Coming. What Do You Take?

[For the Millions of People who Lose Family Photographs Each Year]

It’s happened time and again in times of natural disasters, and every time, the answer is the same, when asked what do you take.  Photographs.

“I’m taking the photographs.  Everything else is replaceable.  Those are not.”

No one is running into the house for the hard drives.  They’re grabbing their parents and grandparents photos, and photo albums and getting them to safety.

I’m hearing more stories of people losing their photos on lost phones or dead hard drives–six people in the last few weeks–to the point that it makes me say come on, what’s it going to take to finally print our photos?

Millions of family photographs are lost each year.

Why are we refusing to spend a dime on prints, when services are readily available?  Too busy or too cheap–neither one gets our photographs printed!

You say you’re one of the ones who triple-backs up everything?  Great!  That’s not everyone.  In fact, it’s mostly no one.  Most people say they want to print their photos, but never do.

Good intentions don’t preserve family history.

What’s it going to take to make folks finally create some hard copies of their photographs?  Because online or a hard drive or a cloud, they really don’t exist.   And we can’t expect with technology changes they will exist in 50-100 years.

A print you can hold in your hand, and run out to the car.  Because it’s real.  It’s physical.

So, why aren’t we printing our photographs?

You can come to me at YourFamilyPhotoAlbums.com, and I’ll help you get them printed.  Or do it yourself through any number of online services.   But, do it!

Or there will be no photographs of this generation for your children or grandchildren’s generation to have of you.

Don’t wait for the fire or flood.

By then, it’ll be too late.

A Night at the Pool Hall

Leica M2, 50mm Summarit f1.5, Kodak Tri-X Film

A Challenge To Shoot Film

I keep running into people who see my old Leica IIIf over my shoulder and marvel that they still make film.  And that it is readily available.  I assure them it is.

I have a standard response to their “I have a great old camera that I never use.”  I tell them to just put one roll of Tri-x in it, shoot a frame once a week or so.  And that after several months, the roll will be done and there will be 36 memories to relive captured on film.

You will have forgotten what you shot.  You will know there’s something good waiting for you after the roll’s developed, and the camera will not be wasting away.  You can always shoot more, but certainly, shooting just one roll a year is still a treat.

You’ll probably need a new battery for the camera.  Many of those with electronic shutters won’t work without them.  Run out, get some new cells, power it up, and load the film.  It’ll all come back.  The feel of those old metal-bodied durable beasts will remind you why you loved them so much.  The heft in your hand will say quality, unlike what you see in many of today’s cameras.  The viewfinder will be big and bright.

It’s a treat.  And the folks I’ve mentioned it to say, “I think I’ll do that.”  I hope they do.  Bring some new life to those wonderful cameras of days of old, er, not that long ago.

How about you?  Have a sweet old camera that isn’t getting used?  How about getting it out and loading it up, just one roll of film.  You’ll be creating a time capsule.

If you know you’re never going to shoot it again, donate the camera to a local photography school or art center.  I have one called the Lyons Photography Art Center in Colorado where you can send them.  Address is PO BOX 69, Lyons, CO 80540.  I use them to teach kids to shoot black and white film, to slow down and carefully compose images.  I give them the camera loaded and ready to shoot.  No excuses for lack of equipment.

If you do end up shooting some film, post the links here and let’s have a look!

Exercise, Ah, Not My Favorite Word

Exercise in and of itself doesn’t excite me.  But I like riding my bike or going for a walk, but just don’t call it exercise.  I like to get active with a camera around my neck, walking up and down the Pearl St. Mall in Boulder, or the alleys behind it, or the 16th St. Mall in Denver or some of the other urban neighborhoods.

Some street photographers stand and wait for subjects to align with backgrounds.  I find that doesn’t work for me.  I need to be on the move.  And when I am, things are coming toward me, and I’m approaching other things, there’s a lot to watch for.  And life presents itself.  Little moments.  Ready to capture.

This one sort of tells a story I’m glad I caught.  I was following the guy with his arms around the two girls, and that was a fine capture, but the look on the face of they guy looking at them, walking alone, made it for me.

Must keep walking.  Must keep going.  The more I look, the more I see and find and create.  Anytime I’m out, there’s a chance for an image to present itself.  It never happens when I stay inside.  I know this.  And I get some exercise!