Lately I've been thinking a lot about why I do photography and I keep coming back to one thing- being remembered. Back when I was in school for creative writing, this subject came up a lot. What happens when I die? What will I leave behind? I know it's a bit morbid, but it's something that many artists spend a lot of time thinking about. And it really comes down to two things.
Your presence in this world remains in your art and societal contributions, and it remains in the memories of the people who love you.
But that's a bit scary, isn't it? Memory isn't really enough. I mean realistically, if I were to die today, my son wouldn't remember me at all. He would have stories that others tell him and he would have some abstract idea of what having a mom is like, but he wouldn't have his own memories. He wouldn't have any real piece of me.
Except for the photographs. If I were gone, he would have all the photos of me that I've printed in the past year. He wouldn't know me, but he'd know the details of my face, the way I wear my hair. And most importantly, he'd have physical proof of the way I smiled at him, the way he made me laugh, and he'd know- he was loved.