Dear readers,
two weeks ago I wrote about nostalgia and its relationship with photography. I wrote about my personal experience, how photos make me feel, and how important they are to me. If you have missed it, you can read it here:
Ironically, a few days after I had published my little essay, the backup system (two external hard drives, one mirroring the other) for my photos broke down. I couldn’t access my files anymore. I can tell you, this is not a pleasant feeling. An unsettling mixture of panic, desperation and sadness broke over me.
I brought the hard drives to a data recovery service and they ran a test, which showed that the files could be rescued, but the hardware not so much. How and why both hard drives broke down at the same time remains unclear, but the feeling of almost having lost all the precious photos from the past 15 years sat with me for quite some time.
It will cost me a small fortune to pay for the recovery of the data and to replace the old hardware, but at least I get my photos back. When I shared the news on Notes (Notes is like a nicer version of Twitter in the Substack App), many wonderful people shared their sympathies and tips with me. It felt very good to know, people can relate to the feelings when all of a sudden all your precious photos disappear. Thank you to everyone who commented on my post, gave tips and sent virtual hugs. It meant and helped a lot!
One person recommended to let go of it. She wrote
“the loss of this data could actually make you free and less dependant of virtual data as we all have become now a days. I know when I first lost the content of one of my hard drives, I stopped myself and noticed that what I did not know I had lost, I would not be sad for it. It automatically helped me not get attached to virtual data and instead enjoy real life as I lived it, going more into mindfulness and enjoying the present more than what ever virtual stuff I may have lost.”
And although I truly admire this approach and the courage and braveness of that person, I couldn’t do it. I am not a materialistic person, but the idea of letting go of the photos made me cringe.
Photography is my way to be more mindful and enjoy the moment and it helps me be more in the present. My photos are more than just digital files to me. They hold precious memories of moments that make me smile, feel good and nostalgic every time I look at them. I couldn’t let them go. They are important to me. They not only show me what I have experienced in my life, the places I have been to or the people I have spent time with. They also show me where I came from, what I have accomplished and the person I have become.
To some degree, this all is in my head and my heart too, but reliving these memories by looking at the actual photograph makes it somehow more real to me. I have lots of photos of memories, where the actual memory is buried somewhere deep down in the deepest corners of my brain and stumbling upon a photo in my library and reliving that moment is such a wonderful experience. How could I let go of this?
As I am writing this, my hard drives are still at the lab for the data recovery. I hope, that by the time this lands in your inbox, I will already have reunited with my precious photos (<insert an image of a female version of Gollum holding an external hard drive here>).
Having shared all this, I hope you understand that my time working on another essay for my newsletter this week was cut a bit short. That is why I decided, I would take the time and say Hello and Welcome to all the new subscribers to my newsletter.
I started this newsletter back in January of this year. And if I am being honest, I did not really have a plan for it. I just started writing. I knew I wanted to have a space where I could share my photographs, write about my creative journey and other things I thought would be worth sharing. In the last few months, it has been mainly about photography, but that doesn’t mean I won’t write about other topics too. My essays are usually based on my own experiences or topics I can relate to as a human and as an artist.
You won’t read headlines from me like “The ten mistakes you should avoid as a photographer” or other “Why every artist should do this and not that”. I am sure there is an audience for this and professionals, who know what they are talking about. But this isn’t me. This is not what I want my Substack to be. I enjoy sharing thoughts and questions I have while creating art. You will read about my failures and sometimes even see me vulnerable. Other times I share, what I have learned along the way and maybe it will inspire you, give you food for thought and maybe it will turn into a conversation.
If you are new to my newsletter and need recommendations on where to start - these three publications of mine are my reader’s favorites according to the likes and comments they have received:
My article about Edward Weston’s Daybooks and what I learned from them:
Accompanying the aforementioned article, I wrote about how journaling helps me on my photographic journey:
My personal opinion about the importance of photobooks and how studying them impacts my own photography:
And -last but not least- if you are here to enjoy the visual content, I can recommend “My visual journal” where I share a series of photographs every other week.
There is one last thing I would like to say before I finish off: writing this newsletter and reading all your comments and likes has brought me so much joy over the past few months. But I am a slow writer (English is not my native language as you know) and it takes up a lot of my time. I would love to continue writing this newsletter regularly. It would be of great help to me if you would consider becoming a paid subscriber. It is only $1 per week for you, but it would make a huge difference for me. And because I am just so grateful for all of you being here, I decided to give you 20% off.1
That’s it from me today.
Thank you for being here and for reading this week’s newsletter.
X,
Susanne
Offer is valid until November 30th 2023.