“In the modern way of knowing, there have to be images for something to become “real.” Photographs identify events. Photographs confer importance on events and make them memorable.” Susan Sontag
Like many parents, I spend a decent chunk of my weekend waiting for classes or activities to finish. And if you’re like me, you spend a lot of this time staring at various roofs.
Or at the wet concrete, where toddlers toddle past, despite the pleas of their parents to walk! The signs say don’t run. Beyond this are the evenly cordoned off pool lanes, each facilitating a specific type of class or purpose.
Then there are the auditoriums; these fat vats of space, where the silver roof insulation winks down at the players.
Where our kids are instructed to make the goal … attempt a goal … or, oh, that was a good try, mate. Well done. Next time.
It’s the participation that matters.
These lines, these rules, will come in time. Perhaps sooner than we can imagine. The messy play of childhood will soon be a memory.
Then there are the times of fun, like roller skating on Valentines Day underneath a mirror ball.
When a silhouette on a wall transfixes the one taking the pictures.
“There is no final photograph.” Susan Sontag.
She is correct.
For it all repeats itself next weekend.
