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On Not Carrying a Camera – Cultivating memories instead of snapshots
The ten thousand photographs stored on a cellphone are a dramatic refutation of my photographic diffidence.
Once, while walking in my neighborhood at twilight, I felt a strange rush of energy in the air, and, suddenly, no more than twenty feet away, a majestically antlered whitetail buck soared over a garden fence and hurtled down the dimming street. Doctors and nurses were rushing about, and, since the baby was arriving three weeks early, a small incubator stood on a gleaming aluminum cart in the corner. It wasn’t until my son was born that I began to measure the size of the empty space I left behind when I’d raise my camera to my eyes and focus on something in the distance.
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