How many photos do you think you have taken in your life? Now days it’s really easy to take a photo. Used to be only on special days when families would get their photos taken, back in the day when cameras were first invented. I can’t even imagine how many photos over the years I have taken just on my own.
I started taking photos at the age of 10, when one Christmas I was gifted a 110 camera. Had to make every photo count because each print cost to print and we had to wait days before we got our photos back.
Then 1 hour photo centers started popping up and even though it cost more, everyone was lining up to get their photos processed that way. I still stuck with the cheapest way possible. I grew in a very frugal family.
I think it’s so fun to look through old photos. I especially love collecting photos from my families supply, but sometimes I will purchase old photos from antique shops too. Each photo has a story to tell. Sometimes I will try to guess what that story is.
Here are just a few photos from my own family photos that have interesting stories behind them. Years from now, when the younger generations look at them, will they try to guess what the stories behind these photos are about as well.Maybe we all should add a few sentences to those photos for the future generations.
My sister’s first born was born very tiny, a little over a pound and was in the NICU for months. He was diagnosed later with ASD and hearing loss. It was hard to get a photo of him. One week my sister was visiting me with her son at the store I managed and was talking about my nephew not sitting for a professional photo. I told her we would get that issue taken care of that day. I had a school bus that a sales rep had given the store for us being one of their top sellers and it was on display in our glass window filled with products that just happened to be what my nephew loved. We stuck him in the bus and wheeled him down to the mall’s professional photo studio. He laughed the whole way there. Everyone saw me pushing him down the mall and wondered what I was up to. Everyone knew everyone in the mall. I just waved and continued on to the photo studio. Once we got there I told the photographer we needed a photo but it had to be quick as we didn’t know how long my nephew would stay in the bus before he wanted to run and play somewhere else, some ASD children are runners. This is the only professional photo my sister has of her son from those early years. And yeah, I pushed this bus down to the shop like this with all the products still on it.
This is blurry but I still love the photo. When my husband’s aunt bought this villa it was a wreck, an old farm. It doesn’t look like this anymore, she really fixed it up and added a pool too. My husband and I would take long walks in her woods that surrounded it. Then we would come back for lunch walking down this dirt road. I grew up by a dirt road. It was and still to this day is one of my favorite places that I have walked on. My husband’s aunt was a fun soul, and was very kind when I first met her. When the C19 came, she and her younger brother, the babies of the family, would both pass away in the same month and year. It was cancer, not C19. It was a year of many deaths in Italy.
This old print has survived two fires. Not sure what the message is in this photo and I don’t know the story behind it, I just know that it survived two house fires for some reason. It’s a photo of my mother as a little girl and her little brother. My mother had me as a teenager and her mother, my Nana was actually more like a mother and my mother was more like an older sibling to me. My uncle would be more like a brother to me. I know weird. Anyway, the first fire this print survived was when my mother was little, not too long after this photo was taken in fact. In the middle of the burned up trailer my mother said was this photo under a pile of other photos that were damaged. Decades later when my aunt’s house burned down, which was most of the front end of the house, on Easter too, except the far room where I used to sleep and share a room with my cousin, was this photo. I was walking through the house after the fire and when I got to the back rooms I looked down on the floor and there was this print across from the room I used to share with one of my cousins. I picked it up and showed it to everyone and said ” This print has survived two fires in this family now”
I took this photo of my husband taking photos at his aunt’s villa in Tuscany. Such a long time ago. I loved all the wildflowers everywhere. The story behind it is that even the ones who record history, are being recorded themselves, they are a part of that history too. Like one of those infinity symbols. Here I was recording history with my photo of my husband recording his own. I would probably call this photo The record keepers.
Easter in Tuscany when my daughter was a little over a year old. I made paper flowers and added Easter eggs to the flowers so my daughter could find them easily. I also made her an Easter basket that I weaved together using ribbon and paper the night before.
My little Alley cat hanging out in my craft china cabinet. Every time I’m working on art or creating something she is near me and loves watching me while I get all the supplies together. She’s my little art partner.
Belize. At night my husband and I would run up and down here and smack the wood while leaning over to see the tiny fish that would lite up like fire works. Tiny bits of glowing movement. It was an amazing thing to see. My husband and I were the only two vacationing on the island at the time since it was Hurricane season. We got a good deal. When a hurricane warning came in three weeks later, we just left and flew out. I saved up a whole year, eating lots of beans and rice to save enough money to take this trip. We had so much fun. The Caye was called Spanish Lookout Caye.
The first piece of art my son sold at the age of 8. It hangs on the wall behind all these students. An English teacher at a private school saw the painting hanging up at the state fair when she was visiting and went up to the workers desk to ask how much the painting was. We got three offers on this painting and we couldn’t decide who to sell it to, so we call the numbers one at a time and the first person who was home that answered was the winner. It turned out to be the teacher. She was so happy, she really wanted the painting. My son would go on to win many awards for his art and sell several pieces of his art. He stopped doing his whimsical art when he entered High School and his art teacher told him his work was too childlike. He never painted again. The art teacher still works at the school. She probably still complains to her students about how hard it is to sell art, as well as her personal life issues about her wife. Seems this is the pattern in public schools now, not all, but enough….take away the kids free thoughts and dreams, then tell them personal issues from their own lives…TMI.
And now I will end it with this print of a tiny finger pointing. This was a big deal when my son finally started communicating with us. He lost his voice after a well check up with his first pediatrician years ago, was starting to speak words before that check up. and then the next days after that check up, with a high fever (not to worry the doctor said when I called, he is just getting over the shots he had taken) my son stopped looking at us, stopping talking and only like to sit and spin things. It took a lot of work to get him to this level in his communication skills, just a point with a tiny finger. Receptive instructions were those early baby steps that lead to real language and conversations with him. This photo was taken at an art festival in Little Italy San Diego. I asked my son where’s Sponge Bob and he pointed to where he was. I almost cried but we were in a public space so I held it together. Yes, I whispered with joy…”That’s Sponge Bob” and the rest as they say is history . In the end this photo has the most history about it. It’s story is being told every day in many homes around the world. At this time of me writing in the year of 2022, Autism has increased so much that it’s now 1 in 44 children. We were only number one of 100 when my son fell ill years ago after a well check up when everything change one week. There is too much money to be made here, the number will only increase unless people start getting wise to the real truths behind this.
Hope you all liked looking through some photos with me. The main photo on the post is not a print, it’s a drawing of my husband’s profile when he was a little boy. Thank you for stopping by for a visit. Stay safe out there and God bless you all.