Tricks of the trade

This ‘coffee and croissant’ rating is for pieces that are meatier than a nibble, but not as rich as a main. A soup starter perhaps? It’s a piece to prompt some gentle thinking or give a subtle griefy insight. I think this is appropriate reading for any setting (e.g. in your coffee break at work or on the tube back home).

As the collection of photos on my phone gets bigger, so too do my pangs of ‘I must get these printed!!’

Part of me doesn’t know why I’ve put it off for so long. Surely it’s an activity that will leave me with glowing with self-satisfaction!? I see myself sat comfortably in a warmly lit sitting room, with all my favourite memories spread around me … ‘Ahh look at all the wonderful times I’ve had this year!’ I think, as I scribble witty one liners next to every photo and take sips of red wine. ‘How organised and on top of things am I!’

Of course, in this imagining, I forget about the headache inducing task of printing the photos in the first place. Of the scrolling and clicking and zooming and choosing (and constant battling with a ‘this photo isn’t available’ notification from a phone with no storage). Not to mention the overwhelming task of deciding how precisely to order the photos (by month!?) and how (and if) to caption them. The whole thing feels positively overwhelming.

Another factor in my photo-organising-paralysis (POP for short) is knowing how to utilise my insider knowledge about their future value. Because I’ve done so much looking at photos over the years. I know just how important they can become.

Sometimes my looking is a non-committal flick through an old holiday album while the kettle finishes boiling. Other times, it’s seeking out the box under Mum and Dad’s bed to sift through and squint at the years before we were all born. Most of the time though, it’s spending an extra second as I come down the stairs to look at the framed photos on the wall (specifically one of Mum and Tom laughing at a village fête in France - where Mum looks so very Mum like). It’s gently reassuring. Yes that happened. Yes we did those things. Yes Mum existed.

So you see, I’m also thinking of a future someone looking back at these and the significance it could have for them. Which makes it feel doubly significant! Double the pressure! What could this album mean in years to come if (when!) I die?

Like laying the table for a future someone to sit at and enjoy – how can I show them that I’ve thought ahead?! Because as well as doing lots of looking, I’ve done lots of wondering too. I know a few of the questions that might be asked…

To simplify it for myself (and alleviate my POP) I’ve written a set of simple rules to help decide what to print, and how to put the pictures together…. Essentially, we don’t need completeness, we just need printed-ness !!

6 Rules to Help with Photo-Organising-Paralysis (POP):

1. Scribbles on the backs of photos are important! A date. A place. A person. Add add add! (of course this isn’t possible for all pictures, so save it for the important ones).

2. Photos of spaces and rooms (messy rooms especially!) are perfect for nosey eyes. I want to see the flat you lived in. I want to see the different rooms you went in. I want to see how you liked to have your breakfast in the morning!

3. Photos with busy backgrounds are always interesting. It’s nice to have things to spot the second time around. A party with random faces. A group shot in a market where you get snippets of strangers walking behind (and clues to past fashions…).

4. Pretty landscapes are quite boring (no offence). Unless the place has significance! Write that down! Why is it significant?

5. Don’t get caught up in trying to make everything chronological and neat. Even an unorganised box of printed photos is exciting. Like a tombola, they’re always fun to look through.

6. Oh and having your arms around handsome people who aren’t (and have never been!) your partner can be confusing. Add a note on who is who and when it happened, please.

Yes yes - part of the charm of a photo album is that it was put together with present day nonchalance. A blind naivety to its future value. However, like buying five sun-creams on offer in Winter, or baubles in January, a few sprinkles of ‘I’ve thought ahead’ will always be worth it. If not for your own memory!!

(After all this talking the talk you’d hope I get over my POP and do some printing…)