Paul Staley shares about how examining old photographs helped him reflect on previous memories.
A recent effort to reorganize our attic uncovered some boxes of old pictures. These were photos from the days when taking a picture was a decision, not a reflex. These were physical objects, not an array of pixels. I sorted through them. So much time had passed.
The toddler in one photo is now the father of his own toddler. The adults in the picture of a birthday party are people whose funerals I have since attended. And yet, here they are again. Smiling, laughing, posing awkwardly or caught off guard. That’s when I realized that when you hold an old photo you are holding starlight. What you see is something that belongs to the past, a moment that was over the instant the shutter clicked.
Years, even decades have passed and yet, here it is: twinkling, still luminescent. And the same thing is happening when you look up at the night sky. The light you see is hundreds and thousands of years old. It is ancient, but it still glitters. This comparison works in other ways as well. Our memories are points of light in an expanse of darkness.
There are the big events, holidays and vacations that shine brightly, but between them is a void, the countless days—good or bad— that passed without leaving a mark. An old photo illuminates a day that might otherwise be lost in that darkness. Everyday our pasts recede from us a little bit. Yesterday becomes last month, becomes last year, becomes “back then.”