I’m not a professional photographer. I’m barely a hobbyist. My advice is aimed at those who wish they had taken more photos but don’t.

Here it is: keep a journal on your phone.

I used to keep an analog journal, and maybe one day I will again. These require that you print your photos, and if you don’t have a good printer and the right combination of time and patience to print and put them in your written journal, most likely you’re not going to bother. Even if you absolutely must have a written journal, there’s room for that you will see in a minute: keep your notes with your photos on your phone, and your written journal separate.

I’ve been a long advocate of Journelly, a beautiful app that allows me to save said notes in org-mode (now also in markdown) format, which I can later edit at ease at my computer with Photoshop at my side. That last bit is key. Not because of Photoshop and the stuff it does, but the concept of going over my photos. You can do that with any other software.

OK, let me take you behind the scenes so you get what I mean.

The above picture was taken last night with my iPhone. It’s what you’d call a snapshot: a photo you take quickly to capture an experience rather than a subject or a narrative or the golden ratio. These are all nice and good, but we’re not talking about those right now.

All pictures that go into your journal should consist of snapshots, just like the notes you take with them: quick mentions of places and people, maybe a word about why you’re there and what you’re doing. Beyond that, you’re going to sit somewhere and write, and then you’re not capturing anymore, you’re reminiscing. That’s nice and all, but while you sit on your ass and contemplate, you’re not capturing what’s going on around you and you’re missing out. Do that later.

Snapshots mean I don’t ask my friend (in the picture, he had no idea) or my nieces (earlier that evening) to sit up and smile while I take the photo. That’s not an experience: that’s make-believe. And while we’re on the topic of what’s real and what’s manufactured in those moments, here’s another tip I’ve learned: if the person (or pet, or even a plant) you’re taking a picture of is posing on their own, or smiles on their own when you take their picture, go with that. That’s authentic and part of the experience. That also means that if they cover their face and call you a “jerk,” you can still take the photo. You should know where the line is in your relationships. Being a jerk sometimes is OK; being an asshole is not.

OK, now it’s time to turn everything I said on its head:

The above picture is what is now in my journal. What? In the journal? Didn’t I just say it’s all about snapshots?

Yes, I did. I captured the experience, it was on my phone along with the location and a mention of what we did (it was a movie, and by the way, it sucked), and this morning, sitting at home in front of my photos, I worked with that experience to polish it into a memory. If you have a digital journal, you should go back and edit those photos and, yes, what you wrote. Reflect on it. It’s worth it.

The photo is cropped and zoomed in above is the sign, which captures the name of the location we were in. To me, that was the essence of what we did, and that’s the memory of it. It’s a location that remained basically unchanged for the last 20 years or so - It’s where I spent some of my high school years, and my sister and I were both happy it was still standing pretty much unchanged. That’s also why there’s a bit more grain in it, making it look older. It’s manufactured. It’s not raw anymore. I transformed it.

If I were walking around thinking about how to capture the memory, I’d waste time. Besides, I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for, because I was too caught up in the moment. I just grabbed my phone and took a picture.

Here’s another example. It’s not a photo, but it’s a good example (and maybe another reason why having a digital journal can be better):

I took this video when I stepped outside one evening when I was away from the city. I closed the door behind me and I let myself get washed away in the sounds of the loud crickets all around me. It’s something I don’t get to hear too often in the city.

Then, back at home, a few days later:

Get it?

The visuals were not even the point. Capturing a video with my phone is something that is a second nature to me. I didn’t think about it and I also knew where my phone saved it for later. If I were to look around for the right app to record just the audio, I’d waste time, and I’d be thinking of the memory, not living the experience. Even though I had a good idea it’s about the sound, it was in the back of my mind. I didn’t know it then; it was cooking for later.