Curating a story of my world through a series of images would be an impossible task.  Not because my childhood lacks defining, momentous experiences or because I would be unable to choose which photos are most representative of who I am.  But rather, because the photos that would truly capture the most significant moments in my life do not exist.  The images that reflect my story remain solely through mental images, unfiltered and unshared with the rest of the world.  They endure as memories, not as photos, which is how I know that they are real and actually mean something.

The emphasis today’s society places on taking photos has always confused me.  It seems that the “old” tradition of taking a photo to remember an event has evolved into going places and doing things just to leave with tangible evidence at the end of the experience.  Instead of being present in our experiences, we take the perfect photos of them so that we can put our adventures on display, secretly reveling in how “interesting” and “exciting” our lives must appear to the public.  As I have grown up, especially as a part of a generation that is often labeled as inextricably linked to an obsession with technology and social media, I have purposefully tried to remove myself from the fixation with taking and sharing photos.  And while some may argue that I will have nothing to look back on when I’m older from when I was young or nothing to share with my grandchildren, the images I have are, and will remain in my eyes, more vivid and authentic than any photograph could capture.  Because I did not witness these images from behind a lens.  I saw them through my own eyes as they were meant to be seen, beautifully fleeting and unaltered and without the rest of the world.     

When I was thirteen I went to Africa with my family, armed with a new camera I had received for my birthday.  The camera seemed like the perfect gift, as it would allow me to document what everyone had been telling me would be a life altering experience.  However, despite my initial plan to use the camera throughout the vacation, I left Africa with only a small sampling of photos, most of which were taken in the first few days I was there and none of which have been put on any social media website or feed.  I quickly realized after the first safari I went on that there was something about this experience that made me not want to photograph it.  The vastness of the land and striking size of the animals could not be fully understood when looking through a camera.  It diminished the power and beauty of being overwhelmed by such a vast amount of uninhabited, untouched land.  There was also a beauty in the fact that what we saw was so evanescent.  The animals were not there to please us.  They were just existing in their natural habitat, gracing us with their presence for what was often just a few seconds before running after their prey or slipping back into disguise from their predators.  Something about freezing those few seconds into a photograph just wasn’t fitting.  Capturing the wilderness and elusiveness of lions or elephants in their natural existence felt like a violation of the natural, untouched space.  As people had told me, Africa was truly a life changing experience.  But the impact it had on me, reminding me of how much life and land exists outside of the trifling amount of the world that I witness every day, could not have been captured in a photograph or understood if I spent the trip behind a camera.   

Similarly, just last year, Ben Vereen of Broadway fame conducted a master class at my high school.  The sincerity and genuineness of Vereen made the class not only incredibly informative but also deeply moving and emotional for everyone there.  Following the class, there was a time allotted for students to talk more informally and intimately with Vereen, which quickly turned into students pulling out their iPhones to get a picture with the Broadway legend.  Once again, to me taking a picture with Vereen just didn’t feel fitting for the occasion.  He had spent the last three hours connecting with us on such an intimate and honest level that asking him to pose as an object in a picture seemed not only inappropriate but also meaningless.  Instead, I took the few minutes I had alone with Vereen to actually have a brief human interaction with him.  Being able to have an actual conversation with one of the most talented and inspiring performers I have ever met is something I cherish far more than a photo that I can share with my friends or post on a social media website.  I was able to actually connect for a moment with someone of Ben Vereen’s experience and knowledge, without the artificiality and awkwardness of a typical celebrity – fan encounter.  I don’t need a photo to remember that feeling.   

The images that reflect my world may consist of more than those that I have from Africa or meeting Ben Vereen.  However, the story that I would want to tell through my images revolves less around their content and more around the significance of how I have chosen to collect them.  These mental images tell more about me than moments that have had an impact on me.  They reflect the way in which I live, or at least attempt to live my life.  In the moment, authentic, and uncaring of how my experiences match up to those around me.  I may not have the photos to corroborate the images that would curate my story, but I don’t need them.  They exist to me as they should, authentic and personal and in the moment and no longer existing other than in a memory.