Fascinating article! Thank you for introducing me to this photographer, whom I had never heard of. I appreciated your signposting about your core belief about ancient impulses. I'm publishing an article tomorrow on underlying beliefs, so thank you for modeling that!
I try not to be a compulsive photographer. As an artist, I prefer to capture what's around me in a more time consuming way, which is more soothing for me and also results in more noticing and feeling...like the process of creating those cave paintings.
I want to anchor the experience in my physical body, not capture it in 30 seconds. I liked what you said about how technology offers us the seductive ability to do things so quickly that they don't deeply satisfy. Something to watch out for!
(My apologies for the lengthy comment, but there was a lot of good stuff here!)
Thanks Robin! I love lengthy comments! They're a gift.
I agree with you that creating slower, more intentional representations is much more soothing, for me too.
When I'm not taking photos with my phone while something funny or notable is happening, I sometimes feel low-level anxiety that I *should* be taking photos even though I don't want to. Which I think is that instinctual compulsion rising up inside me. If phones didn't exist, I'd be happier -- and yet of course I have the option simply not to have one. So I think there's something about what tools we have on hand that really mixes with our instincts to drive what we do.
In your case, you're living with so much intentionality. You're not taking the well-trod path. That takes effort, and I admire it.
Thank you! I really appreciate it. How lovely to have my comment called a gift!
I just send you a message about potentially linking to this article in one I'm publishing tomorrow, so please take a look and let me know if that would be okay. Thank you!
This was really interesting, Laura. I'm recent years, I've definitely made a conscious effort to not take as many photos, and be more present, especially during events like Christmas and the kids opening presents, or on days out. I take a few, for maybe 5 minutes, then put the phone away. My mother-in-law photographs everything - when they look after the kids, she'll send me loads of photos of them doing an the same stuff they do every day afterwards 🤣🤣. My husband and his siblings are all perfectly trained to stop, smile, then carry on with whatever they were doing - I find it hilarious.
The ideas you cover here have existed as daily ponderings since I became aware that, circa 2008, suddenly everyone was on Facebook. Way back in college my favorite Professor commented about his recent trip to Yosemite to camp and hike: there were more RVs parked in the valley floor than ever before, and at night he noticed the blue lights emanating from the RV windows: they're watching TV in there, at night, while inside Yosemite. He said these people were "biologically confused." That's stuck with me.
Then again, something might be "wrong" - or just damned eccentric? - with me. I've taken less than 5 pics using my phone. I just ignore the camera. A month or so ago I wanted to take a pic of my bookshelves so a friend could see evidence of my bibliomania: I struggled to take photo/remember how to send photo. And I never understood taking a picture of your meal in a restaurant to send to others. Or record a concert. You gave me some insight, so thanks, Laura!
It could be that our survival-wiring: to notice movement on the periphery, feel that "something's not right", etc: has been hijacked by easy-to-use media devices like the recent phones with cameras, etc. The capturing of perceived "significant" moments works as a way to keep us safe: if I can take a pic, I'm "capturing" something that seemed significant, and may have done harm in the deep, deep past.
I also wonder about the idea, expressed by many others, that our creative impulses are too easily expressed with our easy-to-use cameras...and never quite fulfilling. But how to create something MORE fulfilling? Apparently this is a humongous problem. I tend to see the cameras at concerts and restaurants as signaling to others that "I have lived." "Things are going okay for me: look at this. How about you?" I realize I'm confessing I see most of us a primates, and I appreciate you writing that we're not that much different than we were tens of thousands of years ago. Aldous Huxley worried about our extremely rapid technological progress since around 1750: were we progressing morally and ethically too? No we were not, and now we have the Bomb. Doesn't look good, does it? Perhaps Einstein was literally right after Hiroshima: everything has changed, save for our ways of thinking. We desperately need to change our thinking. Will we? I won't go any further on this tangent...
The urge to record experience is fascinating to me. I take a TON of notes from my reading. No one sees them. It feels urgent, compulsive that I jot down some note. Now: do I re-read these notes? Often, no. But many other times: yes.
And a few months ago I read philosopher Peter Godfrey-Smith's Other Minds: how we branched off from the cephalopods 540 million years ago (as I recall; I could be way off on this), and yet octopuses show strong evidence of "consciousness" even though they're invertebrates, have different brains for each arm, no central nervous system like us, etc. In speculations about how humans bootstrapped themselves into consciousness, he mentioned taking notes on index cards, then later re-reading one's notes. The notes are an epigenetic memory, stored outside the body that recorded those memories. And the re-reading of the note cards could be crucial, because it is an act of controlling consciousness and concentrating it via what he termed "reafferent loops."
I loved that idea. So I entered it onto a 4x6 index card under the heading "Writing": _Other Minds_ (Godfrey-Smith): 154-155 (taking notes and "reafferent loops": concentration and bootstrapping consciousness by feeding back into the nervous system earlier significant information)
I saw there was a lauded documentary on Vivian Maier. A friend told me about it a few years ago, and I've been "meaning to get to it." Now, with your elucidations, she seems even more interesting, so I will probably finally get to it. Soon.
Fascinating article! Thank you for introducing me to this photographer, whom I had never heard of. I appreciated your signposting about your core belief about ancient impulses. I'm publishing an article tomorrow on underlying beliefs, so thank you for modeling that!
I try not to be a compulsive photographer. As an artist, I prefer to capture what's around me in a more time consuming way, which is more soothing for me and also results in more noticing and feeling...like the process of creating those cave paintings.
I want to anchor the experience in my physical body, not capture it in 30 seconds. I liked what you said about how technology offers us the seductive ability to do things so quickly that they don't deeply satisfy. Something to watch out for!
(My apologies for the lengthy comment, but there was a lot of good stuff here!)
Thanks Robin! I love lengthy comments! They're a gift.
I agree with you that creating slower, more intentional representations is much more soothing, for me too.
When I'm not taking photos with my phone while something funny or notable is happening, I sometimes feel low-level anxiety that I *should* be taking photos even though I don't want to. Which I think is that instinctual compulsion rising up inside me. If phones didn't exist, I'd be happier -- and yet of course I have the option simply not to have one. So I think there's something about what tools we have on hand that really mixes with our instincts to drive what we do.
In your case, you're living with so much intentionality. You're not taking the well-trod path. That takes effort, and I admire it.
Thank you! I really appreciate it. How lovely to have my comment called a gift!
I just send you a message about potentially linking to this article in one I'm publishing tomorrow, so please take a look and let me know if that would be okay. Thank you!
I'd be delighted to be linked in your article, Robin. Just responded to your message. :)
Great, thank you so much! It's my pleasure to introduce your work to my audience. I think there's a lot of overlap!
This was really interesting, Laura. I'm recent years, I've definitely made a conscious effort to not take as many photos, and be more present, especially during events like Christmas and the kids opening presents, or on days out. I take a few, for maybe 5 minutes, then put the phone away. My mother-in-law photographs everything - when they look after the kids, she'll send me loads of photos of them doing an the same stuff they do every day afterwards 🤣🤣. My husband and his siblings are all perfectly trained to stop, smile, then carry on with whatever they were doing - I find it hilarious.
The ideas you cover here have existed as daily ponderings since I became aware that, circa 2008, suddenly everyone was on Facebook. Way back in college my favorite Professor commented about his recent trip to Yosemite to camp and hike: there were more RVs parked in the valley floor than ever before, and at night he noticed the blue lights emanating from the RV windows: they're watching TV in there, at night, while inside Yosemite. He said these people were "biologically confused." That's stuck with me.
Then again, something might be "wrong" - or just damned eccentric? - with me. I've taken less than 5 pics using my phone. I just ignore the camera. A month or so ago I wanted to take a pic of my bookshelves so a friend could see evidence of my bibliomania: I struggled to take photo/remember how to send photo. And I never understood taking a picture of your meal in a restaurant to send to others. Or record a concert. You gave me some insight, so thanks, Laura!
It could be that our survival-wiring: to notice movement on the periphery, feel that "something's not right", etc: has been hijacked by easy-to-use media devices like the recent phones with cameras, etc. The capturing of perceived "significant" moments works as a way to keep us safe: if I can take a pic, I'm "capturing" something that seemed significant, and may have done harm in the deep, deep past.
I also wonder about the idea, expressed by many others, that our creative impulses are too easily expressed with our easy-to-use cameras...and never quite fulfilling. But how to create something MORE fulfilling? Apparently this is a humongous problem. I tend to see the cameras at concerts and restaurants as signaling to others that "I have lived." "Things are going okay for me: look at this. How about you?" I realize I'm confessing I see most of us a primates, and I appreciate you writing that we're not that much different than we were tens of thousands of years ago. Aldous Huxley worried about our extremely rapid technological progress since around 1750: were we progressing morally and ethically too? No we were not, and now we have the Bomb. Doesn't look good, does it? Perhaps Einstein was literally right after Hiroshima: everything has changed, save for our ways of thinking. We desperately need to change our thinking. Will we? I won't go any further on this tangent...
The urge to record experience is fascinating to me. I take a TON of notes from my reading. No one sees them. It feels urgent, compulsive that I jot down some note. Now: do I re-read these notes? Often, no. But many other times: yes.
And a few months ago I read philosopher Peter Godfrey-Smith's Other Minds: how we branched off from the cephalopods 540 million years ago (as I recall; I could be way off on this), and yet octopuses show strong evidence of "consciousness" even though they're invertebrates, have different brains for each arm, no central nervous system like us, etc. In speculations about how humans bootstrapped themselves into consciousness, he mentioned taking notes on index cards, then later re-reading one's notes. The notes are an epigenetic memory, stored outside the body that recorded those memories. And the re-reading of the note cards could be crucial, because it is an act of controlling consciousness and concentrating it via what he termed "reafferent loops."
I loved that idea. So I entered it onto a 4x6 index card under the heading "Writing": _Other Minds_ (Godfrey-Smith): 154-155 (taking notes and "reafferent loops": concentration and bootstrapping consciousness by feeding back into the nervous system earlier significant information)
I saw there was a lauded documentary on Vivian Maier. A friend told me about it a few years ago, and I've been "meaning to get to it." Now, with your elucidations, she seems even more interesting, so I will probably finally get to it. Soon.