Last week, Drew and I received our long-anticipated wedding album. All hand designed, fabric and photo covered, archival papered, gorgeous colored, 12-by-12 inches of it. The moment I got my hands on it, I flew into a brief, yet spastic, beyond-happy dance with intermittent squeals before eagerly ripping through the three layers of expertly wrapped packaging.
There it was. It was gorgeous. And real. And ours.
We grabbed our teacups, snuggled together on a couch bathed in morning light and relived our wedding day. As we sat together, flipping transfixed through the pages, the emotions we felt were almost as raw as on they were on the wedding day, the colours just as bright, the memories reawakened in our minds...
I cannot begin to describe the difference between viewing images on a screen and experiencing them through print media. It is something akin to the difference between a 16 year-old's profile "pic" in which she poses in the bathroom, flaunting her best impression of a sexy fish and a fine art portrait, elegant, refined, poignant, carefully thought through. The tangibility of an album of images makes the viewer's experience infinitely more real than any collection of pixels on a headache-inducing screen could ever achieve.
While I appreciate the desire to share images and to have them easily accessible on numerous laptop and hand held devices, the beauty and enjoyment of photography should not stop there. Print media is not dead. It will never die, so long as we continue to hold dear all that it has to offer.