Deckle Edged Photographs
I’m a 90’s kid - I am just old enough to remember the days my brother and I would park a seat on the forest green carpet in front of our parents old, cherry stained wood entertainment center, waiting to hit record when the long awaited song finally came on the radio, then flipping the cassette over to Side B once Side A was all full. Spending hours dominating Lemmings and The Oregon Trail on a floppy. Praying no one would make a phone call while I tried to dial up the internet. VHS, NES Nintendo, live action TMNT, and 35mm film.
Although I was burning through film and disposable cameras like it was free back in the day, I basically grew up in a digital world. Back then, I’d send rolls of film off with my parents and like magic, a week later, the rolls would come back transformed into a pile of glossy, fingerprintless photographs, packed in a funky envelope with a special pocket just for the negatives. Seems like these days, ask Alexa and she’ll snap a photo for you, telepathically send the image to a printer that was just created by a 3D printer, and Booyah… a glossy, fingerprintless photograph. Magic. Technology has definitely made it easier to capture moments, but I realize more and more often how times have changed. Nowadays, instead of sitting down with friends and family, flipping through photo albums of last years camping trip and 21st birthday party, we spend hours scrolling through hundreds of photos just trying to find the ones from your honeymoon in Hawaii 5 years ago, then pass off the phone while intently explaining to swipe right because swiping left would just lead to a whole lot of unneeded eyebrow raises and questions.
In October of 2018, my grandma passed away. My brothers were asked to give the eulogy and I was asked to make the memorial video. In no way would I have said no, but it didn’t click what all making the video would entail until my dad handed me a manila envelope packed full of hundreds of black and white, deckle edged photographs. I gazed carefully at each photo as if it was a rare piece of history unfolding before me. I found myself fixated on the faces in the photographs. No rule of thirds or shallow dept of field, and no colored ink distracting your eye with incorrect white balance. I found that each photo, yet so simple, told a unique story; the life my grandma lived, the love she shared with my grandpa and the people and places they came from. Each photo intentional, thoughtful and beautiful. Deckle edged photographs may be part of an older time, but when our grandparents and loved ones pass on before us, their stories live on through the black and white ink their history is printed with.
As future generations continue to live in a world of digital technology and social media, I want us to keep the tradition alive; printing our stories, passing down boxes and albums packed full of memories and history, instead of passing down corrupt jump drives and cloud links and passwords. In 50 years, when it’s 2070 and technology is so high tech that my 80 year old self might not understand it anymore, I will ask my grandchildren to raid the attic for the box labeled 2016, where they will find a white album, telling the love story of when their grandmother and grandfather said, ‘I do.’ … Hey Alexa, can you do that?
