#printedphotos

[themidnighteditor]

Miss her...

Waiting to see her when i return to hometown

[curvychickfitness]

Throwback to when we used to keep photos in our wallets lol ❤️ #tbt #dembabies #backintheday #printedphotos

[photoziomek]

This limited A4 print of Milky Way stretching behind Cape Pembroke Lighthouse framed in A3 wood frame painted in black is now available in my store. #photoziomek Go to my profile to check out my website for this and more pics www.photoziomek.com/store-2 #printedphotos #gift #giftideas #astronomy #astrophotography #milkyway #longexposure_shots #longexposurephotography #lighthouse #lighthousesofinstagram #milkywaygalaxy #milkywaychasers #specialedition #falklands #falklandislands https://www.instagram.com/p/CBdsgA-D0Jw/?igshid=15x7dx11mtp4q

[visuallykita]

I'm doing my best to print more and display pics. I got these from @parabopress the other day and I paused for a moment because it's odd to see photos in your hand vs on my camera or computer. 📷 If you are taking photos this weekend for fathers day make sure you print them and display them so that when you do put your phone down you can have something else to look at. 📷 Speaking of printing....what's the last thing you printed? Business card, school work, acceptance letter, etc.....#printedphotos #printyourphotos #parabopress #howiclick https://www.instagram.com/p/BytDdGlg57d/?igshid=ywhyfcodd8pi

[missymwac]

We Are Known By What We Leave Behind

100 years from now, no one is going to care who I am. I know this. I don’t mean that in a bad way and I don’t say it in the hopes someone will contradict me and shower me with praise; this is not said as Compliment Bait. No, I say it because it’s true. 100 years from now, no one is going to care who I was. The same probably goes for you, too. In fact, with a few exceptions, it goes for most people. Command an army, serve as president, discover the cure for stupidness…history will remember you. But for most of us, this simply isn’t true. History won’t remember us. The wonderful every day glorious things we did: raise a family, work hard, bake a mean apple pie, help our neighbors…these things will never make it into the history books. But when it comes to our family, well, that’s a little different. They are the people who could very well remember and more importantly, WANT to remember. To them, we will be part of that marvelous root system from which future generations sprang to life. We will be part of their story, whether they like it or not. I mean, you can pick your friends, you can pick your nose, but you can’t pick your family, right? You are stuck with them and they with you. And most of the time, that’s a pretty great thing. But what will they know about us? After all, time has a way of blurring the details. Family stories get changed, ever so slightly, with each telling. It’s to be expected. Tales are told of my Sicilian grandfather, Carmelo, who played poker with his Sicilian “friends” in the basement, and how each put their gun on the table during the game so that no one would end up the casualty of a sore loser. It’s a great story-no wonder “Goodfellas” is one of my favorite movies. And while stories like this are a part of how I know a man I never met, I know him more from photos like this one: a man playing a banjo, his vineyard behind him, a dog at his feet.

In fact, I know more about my Sicilian grandfather from this one picture than I do any story. I look at this image and see a man who loved music enough to pose with his banjo; a man who loved his dog and whose dog clearly loved him (check out that adoring expression) a man who was poor but donned a tie and hat because obviously, this photograph was important; a man who smiled at a time when smiling wasn’t “cool.” No one but a handful of people in the world care about this picture. But to those handful, this picture is everything. I don’t have many photos of my grandfather. Photos were expensive and my dad's family were dirt poor, so few pictures exist of this wonderful man and his wife and their 13 kids in their house on the hill in McKeesport, Pennsylvania. But with this one photo, I feel like I KNOW my grandpa. How are we known, my friends? We are known by what we leave behind. Print the memories you want to preserve. xoxo

[missymwac]

Meant to Last

My mom was a florist. She used to say you can always tell a florist by their thumb. Each floral stalk must be cut prior to refrigeration and cut again when incorporated into a design, so if the inside of the thumb is rough and slightly discolored, with tiny slices lining the soft padding, like a hundred tiny paper cuts, you’re talking to a florist.

She made incredible floral arrangements, from bouquets to centerpieces. She was a perfectionist in all things, especially her work. She believed not one flower should escape a bride’s bouquet the day of the wedding; if it did, it was shoddy workmanship, so she gave each bouquet a test drive by shaking it, rather violently. She would take a completed wedding bouquet and give it several pretty firm shakes up and down. I recall the first time I saw her do this and freaked out a bit.

“Mom, what are you doing? You are going to ruin that!” “Honey, this is nothing. You know the abuse a bouquet takes during an actual wedding? If it can withstand this, it will hold up for the bride till the end of the reception.”

To this day, whenever I see a flower fallen from a bouquet at a wedding, I think of my mom in heaven, pointing down at that fallen flower and saying, "That should NEVER happen.”

Yes, my mom put a lot of time, thought, energy and attention to detail into everything she created. Her floral designs were impressive. People loved them.

But no matter how beautiful they were, in a week or two, they were dead.

All that time creating exquisite floral arrangements only to end up wilted and brown and tossed in the garbage. Even as a kid, it pained me to see it.

I asked my mom once if it bothered her that what she worked so hard to create ended up in the trash. She said it didn’t. “Flowers are for the moment,” was her saying; they weren’t meant to last. Enjoy them NOW because they won’t be around long.

And I look around me at all the people taking photographs of all the other people. You can’t throw a rock in today’s world and not hit someone who considers themselves a professional photographer. (Every other rock hits someone giving workshops but that’s another post entirely. And a completely different analogy, one that has nothing to do with flowers but everything to do with fertilizer. <cough cough>)

All the pictures being taken. Millions and millions of pictures.

And sadly, most of them are being treated just like cut flowers: enjoyed for a few weeks and then…gone. Digital files being shared, posted to social media and then put aside somewhere. Downloaded from an online gallery and then left in some folder, remembered only when the computer crashes. And maybe not even then.

And make no mistake, these aren’t roses or orchids or lilies-things easily replaced. These are pictures of people. Precious people. (And if you know me at all, you know how rarely I use the word "precious." This is serious, people.) Families. Babies. Children. High School Seniors. People that care about each other enough to have a picture taken. This is family history in your lens. As an artist who puts thought and care and attention into what you do, how are you okay with NOT printing these images for your clients? Not sharing their importance? Not conveying the value of a print? Not creating something that LASTS?

Friends, photographs are NOT just for the moment; they are what we pass down to our children and their children and their children. They are a living record that says: “I am” “You are” “We were.”

These are the documents your great grandchildren will one day hold in their hands. They will laugh at the clothing; they will be amazed by the hair styles, but above all they will marvel that the person in that old photograph is smiling back at them from a face that looks much like their own. And looking at that old family photograph, they will realize again or, for the first time, that they are part of something much bigger than themselves. They will hold history in their hands.

Folks, this is why we print.

There are a lot of things in this world not meant to last…photographs aren’t one of them.

PRINT WHAT YOU WANT TO PRESERVE.

xoxo

[noiseinwonderland]

There’s always something a little bit special about having your favourite memories printed out 📸💕If you want to get yourself some awesome prints @parabopress have hooked me up with a discount code to give you guys. Just use the code NOISE at checkout to get $15 off all Wall Prints, Holiday Cards, Calenders and Photo Books, not to mention you can use this code on as many orders as you like! . . . . . . . . _____________________________________________________________ #parabopress #polarbear #photos #printedphotos #memories #homedecor #lifestyle #lifestyleblogger #ausblogchick #newcastleblogger #newcastlefashionblogger #sharefilm #filmstill #itsthelittlethings #instadaily #flatlays #instablogger #bloggerlife #livethelittlethings #pinterest #thousandwords #prettythings #photosinbetween #thehappynow #documentary #holdyourmoments #mytinymoments #abmlife #pursuepretty

[chrisluk]

#Toronto #Wedding #Photographer #TorontoWedding #TorontoPhotographer #TorontoWeddingPhotographer #USBKey #Engraved #EngravedGifts #WhiteGloveService #PrintedPhotos #PrintedPictures #Photos #PhotoBox #IDo #MCLovin_2017 #SpecialDelivery #ChrisLuk #ChrisLukPhoto (at Christopher Luk Photography (Wedding & Lifestyle Photographer in Toronto))