Why Printed Family Portraits Matter

The Memories We Leave Behind

Let’s start small.

Nothing too big, just something that is about the right size.

A memory.

Do you have it?

Can you see it?

Can you hold it?

Can you put it into a shoebox that you store in the top of your closet for your kids to find years and years later?

The Bouquinistes in Paris

Will it end up in a bouqiniste alongside the Seine in Paris where some collector finds it and adds your memory, your family to their collection?

When I was younger, my mom used to take me to Paris. We would walk up and down the banks of the Seine looking in each of the bouqinistes. If you were up early enough, you could watch the little shop owners start opening their locked boxes that sat on the walls of the river. They would sell all things from antiques to items destined for the tourists with their catch-all drawers back at their houses. It was in these quaint bouqinistes that you would often find old photographs. Memories, families, those special occasions and the odd pictures of famous sites around Paris all found within the tiny boxes that lined the streets. We didn’t discover hard drives or USB drives, but actual time-weathered photographs. We found them, because someone cared enough to print them.

The USB Drive in My Desk

We don’t think about the word legacy enough anymore. What are we leaving behind for the future generations to find? Every day, I walk through my house, and I look at the framed images on my walls, the pictures that line the refrigerator. How many times do I look at images that are stored on my computer? I have a USB drive in my desk from a trip we took, and I have never placed into it my computer to look at the images.

Why is that? Why look at one and not the other? Because I cared enough to get the images printed. And because I never took the time to get the ones on the drives printed. Life got in the way, and they sat on a USB drive for almost ten years. I am glad I pushed myself to print the images that I have because now, every day I can see them. They still evoke emotions and bring me back to that time in my life when my son held his puppy or the time when we went down to St. Augustine, FL and had pictures taken with my dad so we would have a three-generation portrait. My Dad now has that hanging in their house too because I printed it for him. I hope that moment will live with my son forever and make him glad that I cared to get it printed rather than leave it on a hard drive.

My Generational Portrait

My dad, me and my son.

David came to pick up a portrait I created for him to show my appreciation for his selfless contribution to saving me when I almost died from Covid.

The idea that we tend to overlook is that life is fast-paced and we get caught up in it so quickly. It’s so easy to get home from your photographer’s studio with your USB drive and put it on the desk by your computer or in a drawer and forget about it. You don’t mean to do it. When you see it, you think to yourself, “oh yeah, I need to get my pictures printed out, but my son has practice tonight, maybe tomorrow.” Once you don’t make an effort to do it one time, it’s easy to fall into that pattern again and again and again.

The Portrait That Became Part of Our Lives

After I created that portrait of my son and I, I knew it had to get printed. So that was the first thing I did, I edited it and sent it off to the lab where they framed it and sent it back to me. I brought it home and immediately hung it up on the wall in my living room. I look at that portrait of my son and I every time I walk in and out of the room. It has become part of our lives; it’s become part of who we are as a family. I look at that photograph on the wall and I can feel the embrace that we shared when we made that, I can feel my arms around him and his hair on my face, and I am so happy that I have it in my life. I think of setting up the background in my parent’s dining room and having my mom take the picture of my dad, me and my son. Then I remember how I thought since we were there, my son and I should get one together. The memories come flooding back, that is the sign of a great photograph. Will it stay on the wall forever? I guess time will tell.

Cade and me.

This is the framed portrait that hangs on my wall in our house.

The Day They'll Be Glad You Printed It

Years from now, my son will be packing up my house after the inevitable has happened. He may be searching through a closet or an attic and come across a frame that ignites a memory. He may be searching through the house with his son or daughter. I can imagine him pulling it out of the closet, holding it in his hands, letting it bring back those same memories and emotions. I can see him looking at his own child with a smile and say, “I’m so glad that my dad had this printed.”

If you're looking for family portraits in Valdosta, I'd love to help you create photographs your family will treasure for generations.

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These are more images that I have printed out over the years.

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The Day They'll Be Glad You Printed It

The Memories We Leave Behind

Let’s start small.

Nothing too big, just something that is about the right size.

A memory.

Do you have it?

Can you see it?

Can you hold it?

Can you put it into a shoebox that you store in the top of your closet for your kids to find years and years later?

The Bouquinistes in Paris

Will it end up in a bouqiniste alongside the Seine in Paris where some collector finds it and adds your memory, your family to their collection?

The USB Drive in My Desk

My Generational Portrait

The Portrait That Became Part of Our Lives

Cade and me.

The Day They'll Be Glad You Printed It

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