I went through photo albums today. These were the pictures I decided to keep. I tried to develop a system for sorting, keeping, and throwing away, but it didn't work. I found myself getting confused by the memories jarred by people or the situations of the photos.
What should be kept because it's pretty?
How many pics do you need of one person? Of one event, one span of time?
What can memory hold, that neccessitates the dispersal of a hard copy?
I don't need to remember my own position.
I noticed in a few of these my younger brother Joel is just peeking into the frame.
Growing up in Humbolt County, I had a neighbor friend named Ben. I don't know if it's this picture infiltating my memory, but I can't remember him not wearing plaid.
My grandfather and I.
With best friend at the time, Elizabeth.
Zach and Crystal (another best friend).
My sister Rhonda and her son.
My brother Joel and one of his buddies in high school
High school best friend, Albert.
More Fambly, Mom on the right.
Rosarita (Refried Beans) and Seven-Up.
Austin, Brother Justin, and myself this summer.
And two of Jenn's photos.
When I find snapshots on the ground, I feel almost intrusive. But I put them in my purse, knowing that I have a piece of someone else's life in there. Something was special enough to bring out a camera. I feel almost guilty for being lucky enough to have those land in my hands.
On two occasions I have found slides. They are more expensive; require more processing and equipment.
Picking up a slide off the ground and holding it up to the light is too much.