Because much like the wretch who drinks to be happy, the snappers are
deluded: they think their photos are creating memories, when in fact they
are sabotaging them.

I was one of them.

My junk was the real deal. Class-A stuff, the cocaine of the photography
world -- the digital SLR.

"With this oversized device I felt confident. I felt virile. It made me
feel superior to the beaming, giggling amateurs fumbling about with their
pathetic phones and small, flaccid point-and-shoots.

It took an epiphany for me to kick the habit.

I was diving in Thailand, when a whale shark emerged from the gloom. I
snapped away at the beast with my underwater apparatus for the few minutes
of air I had left, then returned topside to high-five and celebrate this
potentially once-in-a-lifetime experience.

As I scrolled through the 100-odd pictures I had, I realized: they were all
I had.

My memories are framed by the 2x2-inch blurry screen of my camera. Not once
did I look up to see the fish with my own eyes. "

Srini and I saw this in action quite recently--the d'Orsay had loaned a
number of gorgeous paintings to Singapore. Other than the art students who
were doing studies, there was a whole lot of people consuming the paintings
via their cameras. So perhaps the museum didn't provide enough benches, but
what happened to just soaking it all in?

Reply via email to