He’s not wrong. I’ve got tons of pictures of the outdoors. Not that they aren’t beautiful. Pressed, I mostly couldn’t tell one from the other.
It's easy (an often correct) to assume that most such photos will never be seen again, or maybe scrolled by quickly at best, but the fact is one doesn't know the motivation of the photographer, nor how they might change their motivation in the future to actually make use of that photo.
They also go away faster than you expect.
Even if it's just walks around a city center, I have a thing for photographing street art, and uploading the different photos to my walks and it places them at their locations on the recorded path/map of the walk (or hike) to be revisited/replayed when feeling nostalgic.
It also helps to be more discerning about what photos to keep (do I really need another wide landscape shot?) But once the "worthy" photos of my walk/hike are added, I remove the others from my phone and make the recorded activity private for me to enjoy. The context + notes with the photos in one place makes it all mean so much more when I revisit them. I completely ignore all social bits of the app, but this might appeal to some since you can share/fork an activity to the accounts of people that where with you.
*I don't work for them, but been using it over a decade now
They're my favorite memories. NY's Central Park, London's Hyde Park, Norway's fjords, Barcelona's beaches... The best part is that these feel like very tangible memories and take zero physical space to store!
There one of of a non descript mountain turn with a small gravel pullout. There's a million prettier pictures but that one means the most meaning to me.
I almost died there; crashed on my motorcycle. Took the turn just a little too fast, panicked and just went over the edge trying desperately to stop. I don't remember much of the crash itself; just green, brown, and blue. Just that when I finally managed to get myself together, my leg crushed under the bike on on dirt that felt like concrete. No chance of pushing the bike off. No chance of digging or wriggling free. No chance of being seen from the road. My only hope was 911.
Except... I couldn't bring myself to call. There was nothing technically stopping me; good signal strength, modern phone with enhanced positional reporting. Just one little button press and help would be on the way. But why?
Why should I call for help?
Why did I want to keep living?
Why do I deserve to live?
Damned questions that I had been asking myself nearly every day for almost 26 years of my life by then. And here, finally at that mountain road I couldn't run from it any more. But it was also the first real chance I had to put myself to the test; to know myself one way or the other. So I turned my phone off. And left my mortality to the hands of fate.
For 7 hours I just lay there, nothing else to do but watch sun and cloud drift in the sky with waiting for an end. And yet there was a stillness there that I had never experienced before in my life. No more voices demanding that I meet their expectations. No more fear. No more uncertainty. Just a blessed silence with a light at the end of the road that I had no seen in a long time.
It seemed almost cruel when motorist looking to relieve himself found me. Part of my wished he hadn't but there was not much else that could be done then. Him and his buddy played the rescuers, and I played the victim; freed me from my entrapment, got my bike on the road, kindly offered to call for help or stay with me, and I declined as graciously as I could and limped both myself and bike home.
But after so long, I had an answer.
I don't want to live.
I don't deserve to live.
My life has no meaning.
But it also means that I don't have to care anymore either. Not about trying to maximize my career. No more forcing myself to fake smiles to make friends I can't find any connection with. No worry about finding a partner. Not about measuring myself or trying to improve or anything.
That photograph on my phone is meaningless to everyone else.
To me, it was where I finally found peace. And nothing can ever replace that.
It made some sense to take pictures of panoramas or art when you could show something to people that could not see it otherwise, but in this era it makes no sense (unless you enjoy photography as a hobby).
A goofy picture of you kissing some old bronze statue? Dumb, but yours.
I took the girls all around the US, around the world even as they were growing up. I had grown up in a “camera family” so always had one on trips as a parent too.
Now, with two decades behind me, the photos of my young daughters, wife are the vacation photos I return to.
Oldest daughter is wearing a kimono sipping tea at some place in the mountains of Japan… Two youngest are chasing each other on the beach of some island in Hawaii…
These are not achievements, or unusual places, or humans. The things I'd like to see are stores of subtle cultural information than gets lost because it seems unimportant, and then a couple of decades later I want to look at all the details of it again but I can't. What was that car I used to be slightly interested by every time I walked past it? What range of items used to be for sale? What books did I have? What was actually on that poster that got torn and thrown out and now it's impossible to find another? Instead of answers, I have holiday snaps and pictures of humans.
You mean in the sense that no one sends/receives them? Because that might be true for the younger generation, but postcards are still available literally anywhere I've been in the world, and are still very easy to send, for those who enjoy that.
I mean both that they are used much less and they're much less available.
You can find postcards of the Coliseum in Rome, but you'll have a hard time finding one of Palazzo Farnese in Caprarola.
Even in major touristic hotspots, 30 years ago you'd find postcards sold at any shop, but these days you have to look for a while, in my experience.
I've been to some countries where only the official post office was allowed to sell stamps. That makes things much more inconvenient than the shop selling postcards also selling the stamps.
For a moment I thought...he's right, I see myself and my girlfriend all the time.
Then I realized...objects, never change, why do you take it. What makes your photo unique? He was by himself, taking photos. He has no one to capture his moment.
Although I don't disagree with him - I do have some nice landscape and photos, of just trees, mountains, and of course tourist buildings. But in modern times...I will always take a photo with, and without people.
Sometimes I look back and I am in the mood to just look at places I've visited, sometimes, I want to look a who I visited with.
I hope that man found someone he enjoys taking photos with/of.
Don't photo (much) things that won't change. Things that change - people, but also landscape to certain level, cars, technology, even some buildings, sure its amazing to look back for you, or anybody else after decades and see the change. Obviously people change the most.
Basic photography advice is to have something alive in each photo. Not 100% but a good rule of thumb.
We also don't have any wedding photos, newborn photos, family photos, etc and there is a certain special feeling to knowing what someone looked like when they were younger lives only in our memories. Particularly in a world where we are flooded with pictures all the time.
The AI era makes this even more interesting. A custom in our circles is to try to find a photo for your profile pic on WhatsApp that maybe sort of looks like you, since it can't be a photo actually of you. So now AI-generated photos are quite popular for this purpose. I think it is an interesting art form.
Likewise, new baby announcements don't have a photo of the baby... you will get either an artistic impression or something, or else something AI generated, often of another type of animal. My second son was represented by a koala bear, my first daughter by abstract watercolours. I enjoy not knowing what a friend's baby looks like until I meet them for the first time.
I also find some of my friends and family, well, I don't regularly see pictures of them, and I tend to remember them however I first saw them. They age, but my memory of them lives on.
Years later I started taking pictures only with the people I was with.
Nowadays that smartphones got much better, I just start recording a video of the moments I think will be worth remembering, but without paying much attention to the frame, I just record and that’s it.
Years later when you watch them it feels much more vivid than watching a still dead photo.
From now on, I will include my travel companions whenever I can.
So for years, I smugly avoided taking photos—too cool for clichés. It only hit me much later that I wasn’t missing out on better shots of monuments… I was missing pictures of the people I was with. Family and friends looking younger, sometimes happier, and—how shall I put it—sometimes still alive.