As a photographer, I take a lot of pictures. A lot. Thousands upon thousands, with every camera available to me. That volume means I have to find a way to categorize and store all those photos. But here is one thing you might find surprising: I delete the large majority of them.
If you were to open my phone, for example, you wouldn’t find more than a few dozen photos on there at best.
There are a few reasons for this. I think taking photos is important, of course, but I don’t think it is an end in itself. A photo is a stopping-off point—a waypoint on your journey to somewhere else. You need to stop, and you should stop. But eventually, it’s time to move on. You can’t take everything out of the souvenir shop with you.
And by that, I mean you can’t—or I don’t think you should—save everything. Pick a souvenir—or two or three—and print those. Make them into something you can hold in your hand, something that exists even when you forget to charge your phone.
They hold a bit more water than they do as just digital files. In our always-connected age, we miss out on something by keeping only electronic copies of our photos in our pockets. It becomes a kind of "illusion of having." We think we own the moment because we have the file, but really, we’re just hoarding data.
I think there is a real peace in not always having the past in your pocket.
When you delete the excess, you aren't losing memories. You're refining them. You're clearing out the clutter so you can actually see the few things worth keeping. So, leave the shop. Take the good ones. Put them on your wall or in your album. And let your pockets be light enough to carry what comes next.
December 22, 2025