Too Many Photos

On the very day that Kodak announces it is taking the once iconic Kodachrome film away, I end up with a startling realization ... again: I take waaaaaay too many frickin' photos.

Really. It has to stop. I've got a terrible twitchy finger. Mind you, a few shots are impressive, many are sentimental but most - like the hot dog above - mean absolutely nothing.

For many photographers, the switch from film to digital was fraught with arguments of quality and purity, blah, blah, blah ... but for me, it came down to sheer space and logic.

When I moved from California to Colorado, I was alarmed at how much of my worldly goods were made up of photo negatives and prints. I could hardly wait to make the switch and instead of numerous numbered and dated shoeboxes, I now have numerous numbered and dated memory cards and flash drives.

That's right, roughly 50% of everything I own in this world can be tied to my on-again, off-again love affair with the camera. There are three closets in my home and one is filled entirely with photos.

I ponder this today because I'm in the process of switching computers and moving three years worth of photo off into storage, where they should have been to begin with. Sometimes I wonder if snapping away is the only way for me to verify that anything really happens in my life.

In any case, I'll certainly be leaving behind plenty of evidence that I was here and, by god, I saw things!