Picture taking sacrifices the subject of the photograph in the present, in order to keep it for the future. It’s like catching a bird for a collection. Once you’ve caught it, it changes, so you’ve never really got it. And even when we think we captured a likeness, eventually we have to distance ourselves from the picture in order to recognize it again.

Looking at pictures is like listening to music. Emotions get worn out, we become desensitized. Sometimes we keep things out of sight, so they don’t lose their impact. So we put it in a box or a drawer or leave it on a hard drive or in the cloud not knowing if we’ll ever see it again. And then maybe years later we look for it, or just let it go. I agree with Roland Barthes when he writes, “I may know better a photograph I remember than a photograph I am looking at….Ultimately – or at the limit – in order to see a photograph well, it is best to look away or close your eyes.”

Maybe the reason people use the words nostalgia and sentimentality pejoratively is because holding on to things too tightly kills them. Photography reminds me of the stories in which people turn to stone when they look back, it petrifies its subjects. If we want the visual evidence, we lose something. Like Orpheus, we lose Eurydice when we look back to verify her presence. I try to remind myself that just because I can’t see something, doesn’t mean it’s no longer there.