I’ve been seeing articles lately about the importance of documenting life, and others about how focusing too much on documentation takes away from the enjoyment of the moment. I tend to lean a bit more in agreement with the latter. However, I do think that in some cases taking photographs can enhance a person’s experience.
A couple months ago I went to some kind of Thai water festival in my city and specifically planned to take street photos there. To be honest, I primarily went because a photography friend invited me to go, and would not have gone had I not been invited. In this instance, I ended up having a lot more fun taking photos than I likely would have not taking photos because it gave me a sort of creative challenge to document the event in a way that was aesthetically pleasing and interesting. I also had fun trying to dodge all the people shooting water at me, even though I ended up totally soaked at the end (don’t worry, my camera and lens are weather sealed). Here are a few photos from that event.
In some cases we go out with the specific intent to taking photos, such as taking street photos, taking photos of an event, or photoshoots with friends. In other cases, however, we end up taking photos during some event that we intend to enjoy for the experience like concerts, performances, hanging out with friends, etc. In the case of the former, I think taking photos has no negative impact since that is the focus of the activity, but in the case of the latter, I find that focusing too much on documentation has a high potential to take away from the experience of that moment.
I am sure we have all witnessed people (maybe ourselves at times) go to some famous attraction or scenic spot and spend the whole time taking selfies and not even paying attention to the view or attraction, or filming several minutes of fireworks or some performance even though the distance and video quality make it impossible to see clearly what is being filmed. I become a little confused when I see this kind of thing because it makes me wonder what the motivation was for going to that place to begin with – was it to experience that place/event, or to record proof of the experience as if checking a box? I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with other people doing this, but witnessing it made me re-evaluate my own reason for taking photos/videos. I’m not sure how I would feel using my phone to record a concert, viewing it through the phone screen instead of with my eyes, and worrying more about getting the framing right than my enjoyment of the performance. It also seems like a lot of effort and sacrifice to record a video that probably won’t look or sound very good in the end anyway.
Last week I went to my first-ever orchestral concert, which was a local symphony performing a collection of pieces by Joe Hisaishi (who composed many well-known pieces in Studio Ghibli films). I was glad to hear that audio and video recording were not permitted during the performance, as I felt it would be distracting and I may also feel some kind of peer pressure to do it myself when I saw everyone else doing it. During the performance I felt so immersed, enjoying the music while simultaneously watching all the different performers doing their individual parts. When watching a movie or just listening to a song, it’s easy to forget that the music is a concerted action with many people performing individual roles. Before the concert I was concerned that it might be boring to sit and just listen to music for 2 hours, but it ended up being an amazingly enjoyable experience. My only regret was that we were seated quite far back and it was difficult for me to see the performers; I found myself wishing I had brought some small binoculars to see more clearly. At the end of the concert the audience was allowed to take photos, and I took one because literally everyone else did (and you can see their phones in the bottom of the photo). Here it is.
I think this photo does nothing to add to my memory of the concert, and also is a poor quality photo due to it being in low-light using a smartphone. The real treasure is my memory of how I felt while being immersed in the show.
In the past when traveling, I took a lot of generic smartphone photos of famous places. It’s a famous place so might as well take a photo, right? I also have many pictures in my photo library of objects in a museum from 2015, as if I was just taking photos because I saw something and felt I should take a photo because I was traveling and it was in a museum, not because it was really interesting or should be documented. Realistically, photos of every one of those things could probably be found on the internet, making my photos redundant at best considering they also don’t really mean much to me and aren’t really interesting to look back at. On the other hand, the photos I have from Japan in 2008 that I took on a point and shoot camera are very meaningful to me because they are primarily photos of me with people I met or random scenes that I thought were memorable or looked nice. During that trip I had no sense of pressure to take photos and only took photos of things I really wanted to remember or people I met (see On Cameras and Intentionality).
It seems the difference is that my recent photos of famous places and random museum objects were motivated by a feeling of obligation to document things. As if I needed to document that I went to some famous place just because that’s what everyone else does, or that I should take photos of a bunch of random museum objects just because I’m traveling. I don’t know where this feeling came from, maybe from using social media in the past, maybe just from increased knowledge of what places are famous due to internet use. In any case, I feel that this obligation is related to fear of missing out, like I see everyone else doing something and then worry that I will regret not taking photos or something. I think this gives me a feeling of pressure, and can have a negative effect on my experience by creating indecision – should I take photos or not?
During the years that I lived in Hawaii, I have two memories that stand out as having been particularly meaningful to me. The first was a day that I walked to the park near my house. I had left my phone and camera at home and just walked there with my house key in my pocket and nothing else. I sat down on a bench and looked out at the park. It was sunset and the grass at the park had hundreds of little puddles from the past week’s rain reflecting the golden sunlight, like a field of jewels. There were many thousands of small insects buzzing around the grass and a flock of extremely small birds that would sporadically jump from one place to another in the grass. I sat there for probably around 20 minutes just soaking it in before I decided to get up and walk around the park. When I approached the nearest small puddle, I was amazed to find it teeming with dozens of tiny tadpoles. Then I found out that every one of those small puddles in the field had tadpoles in it, each one like its own little world. I remember being impressed with how much life and complexity can be found in the most unexpected places if you take the time to pay attention and look. In that moment I felt connected with all the insects flying around, the tiny birds chirping, and the tadpoles in the puddles, as if I had suddenly remembered that I too am a part of nature.
The second memory was a day that I went to a cafe on the north shore. The cafe had an outdoor seating area next to it that was frequented by small lizards and chickens. On that day I remember I was feeling mentally exhausted and like I needed to relax, so I left my phone in the car, didn’t bring a book, and planned to just sit and drink tea. On that particular day there were many chickens: several adults, a couple not-quite-adults, and dozens of chicks. Having nothing to distract me, I started to watch the chickens. I can’t find the words to describe exactly what it was like, but it somewhat reminds me of the way I felt at the symphony that I described above. I was simultaneously watching a larger movement of the dozens of chickens and chicks moving around the garden, while also noticing the small details about the individuals’ appearances, actions, and interactions. It was impossible to feel bored. The next thing I knew I was feeling hungry and realized it was already nearly dinner time – I had just sat there watching chickens for several hours. The interesting thing is that I felt great about it and like I had been doing something worthwhile. My mental state had also improved considerably compared to when I arrived at the cafe.
Out of the thousands of days I spent living in Hawaii and thousands of pictures taken, somehow the most impressive moments for me were these two when I did not take any photos and which could arguably be described as me sitting around wasting my time doing nothing. Coincidentally, both of those experiences also involved being around nature, birds in particular.
The first time I heard of someone having birdwatching as a hobby, I thought it was weird and did not seem appealing at all. This was several years ago and I couldn’t understand what could possibly possess someone to go out of their way to watch/find birds, or why people thought birds were interesting to begin with. Even more confusing to me was that people would go out to watch or see birds and not even take a photo of them. I thought going out to try to take photos of birds might make it more worthwhile because there was a tangible outcome to the activity.
Fast forward to now, and I have started birdwatching as a hobby. I also decided that I am not interested to get into bird photography – I just want to look at and identify birds. I keep track of the different species I’ve seen and it feels really exciting to successfully identify a new species and add it to my list. Although I’m sure I’ve seen many hundreds of different species in my life, I only started keeping track this month and only added birds that I have successfully identified. As of writing this I have only successfully identified 21 species. It almost feels like playing real-life Pokémon – traveling around trying to add more and more entries to your Pokédex. Birds also make the most sense to watch compared to other types of animals because they move around a lot, are easily spotted in the sky, are (sometimes) brightly colored, make noise, and are awake during the day. I feel like before having this interest/hobby, I was almost completely ignorant of birds – like I would not even notice them or their sounds in the environment, even though they are basically present everywhere on earth.
Many people who are into birding or birdwatching would list a camera as an essential piece of equipment, and may even choose to bring a camera instead of binoculars. It seems that it would be quite useful to be able to take a photo to reference later when looking at a field guide, or to reference when asking people online to help with identification. However, the downside of that in my mind is that I think it reduces the importance of my own observational skills, and takes away the opportunity to practice and improve in other skills such as field journaling and sketching. I feel like if I rely on a camera all the time, it may cripple my ability to intuitively identify birds, sort of like how people never develop a sense of direction if they rely too heavily on GPS (see How to Improve Your Sense of Direction). Even if I spot a bird that I don’t recognize and can’t identify, I still enjoy getting out and being in nature. Having to let go when I can’t properly identify the bird also feels like a lesson in non-attachment and letting go. I fear that if I was out trying to take photos of every bird I might turn into a crazy person obsessed with identifying every bird and losing the enjoyment of just being outside and in the moment.
Being able to identify birds just using my eyes feels like I am developing some sort of skill that I can always use later. Besides being able to remember birds, it also helps with being more focused and observant, and improves visual memory (at least I would guess). It has also been fun for me to try to learn the Chinese names of all the birds since I live in Taiwan. I am reminded of something I was thinking about recently regarding photography and other forms of visual art – I feel like many of the skills I’ve learned from photography (composition, color, lighting/contrast, etc.) could have all been learned through drawing or painting as well. The difference is that with photography I am using a machine to make an image, and without the camera I only have the theory and no practical way to create an image. If I had learned to draw, I would have internalized a skill that can be used to create images in many different contexts using many different mediums. In the same way, if I can identify with my eyes only, I don’t need anything else.
Anyway, that’s enough for today.
Austin Bai 