Sometimes we
never know which moment would be our last memory…
I may have a weird collection that I still do now even how digitalized the world has process, I cannot help but fall in love with the process of looking at printed photos that were captured throughout the years. There is magic in freezing a moment in time that was special to me and being able to retrieve it later and just reminisce back in time what a moment felt like. If there’s one thing I firmly believe in, One can never have too many pictures.
I’ve always been a picture person, I’ve always like photography even though I might not be seen as someone who has to snap a picture before we indulge in the food or walk around with a DSLR. I love the way photos can capture the beauty of a moment and freeze-frame it, so that months or years later when I’ve completely forgotten a simple get-together on a random day, I can just look back on the photos and be reminded. My printed photos are like time capsules that let me flit, for a second, between what was and what is.
Each pictures brings back scents and sounds and the emotions of the memory. I might want to laugh, or cry or felt a sudden thump on my chest because life is ever-changing and so are we. It remind me how impermanent this life is, how fragile and breakable we are, how temporary our existence is. It helps keep people and memories alive long after they are gone.
And that was exactly what I’d like to preserve all along – the power of a printed photograph – pulling me back into a moment of days together. Reminding me on the promises we have made but not put in plan. Because when you feel like someone’s life is nearing the end, you look back at those friendships and you’re thankful that those printed photos has captured the most perfect memories and days together to be a part of my life’s story.