A photograph has a soul.
Sometimes I wonder what happens to all the photos we take after we die. When I’m gone and my photos are still around, in a frame, an album or on a disc, who will look at them? Who will smile, laugh, tell the story or have a long lost memory come flooding back. A photo will go from being a living treasure, from being ‘worth a thousand words’, to being a piece of information, a record of a time and a place.
Some photos will remain alive though the beauty and significance of the subject they cover, they will continue to mean something to one or many people. But what of the photos we take for ourselves, the ones that no one else ever notices or sees, hidden deep in the pages of an album or the numbered filing system of a disc. These are the photos that mean nothing to anyone but the photographer, the creator, these are the photos that die.