It ain’t a thing.
Still, half the advertisements I see on the television are for cameras and phones. There’s where we’re usually told that life is passing us by and that if we don’t take pictures of every banal moment in our lives, these moments will be lost to us forever. It’s like we’re being told not to trust our own memories.
Also, we’re not just being encouraged to be the official club photographers of our own existences; either we’re being told that we should be documenting every meal as if we were preparing for a retrospective. This idea finds its epitome and is perpetuated most fervently by something called Instagram. You might have heard of it – or have used it.
I don’t know what it was about the turn of the century. Maybe, we all got carried away and thought we were the “chosen ones” because our lives spanned two different millennia. Maybe, it’s just a way of trying to get a grip on a world that’s passing us by…that capturing those seemingly mundane moments, when assembled, begin to make some kind of sense from our existence.
Or maybe Instagram does have some kind of worth.
I think the problem is that there’s dishonesty at its core. All photography of worth captures some kind of truth, something that you wouldn’t have picked up on with the naked eye. At the very least, it presents an interestingly distorted view of reality. (Louie dela Vega/FOCUS)