Five Hundred and Ninety-Five Words

If a picture is worth one thousand words, why is it so seldom that someone would actually prefer a thousand words? And if a picture is worth a thousand words, what is a camera worth? And more importantly, how much is Instagram worth–especially when you take its etymology apart?

These are some questions that have come across my mind since the recent loss of my beloved digital camera. After coming to terms with its disappearance, I wrestled with myself about whether I should replace it with a new one and splurge another $200-300 from my wallet or not. I thought about seizing this chance to purchase a DSLR, which would probably empty my pockets completely. Instead, I decided to wait it out. During the wait, I picked up a book I’ve been meaning to read for 3 years called “Irresistible Revolution” by Shane Claiborne.

Shane Claiborne has been someone I’ve looked up to for a while now but I hadn’t had the chance to read his book(s) until now. What I received was more than I bargained for. I expected to read and agree with everything he said very calmly, but it was exactly what I thought it would be. Instead, I read, agreed with everything, and felt all sorts of tension. I was hit with a humble realization that although I have developed a theology of loving the poor and tried to love them in my own ways, I was failing so hard because I am and have been standing in a place of privilege. Spending $200 on a camera felt like no big deal a week ago, but now the idea reeks of privilege. It now seems wrong to buy a product simply because I desire it without at least giving it a second thought when thousands of children aren’t guaranteed food on their plates—if they even have plates.

So to console myself, I began to ponder: Why do we need cameras anyway? I admit it’s been hard for me to let go of the urge to document everything, but when we stop to think about it, these moments we have will have happened anyway with or without a picture to prove it. Perhaps people who want to document their lives are just cowards who can’t stop looking back; they’re afraid of forgetting. Perhaps they want to someday look back and remember their youth because they’re afraid old age. They want to be able to look back and remember the happy times because they’re afraid of the sadness that comes with the passing of time. They want to have proof and show off something amazing they saw because they’re afraid it’ll be lost otherwise.

But what happened to enjoying the moment on the spot? What happened to experiencing the world through our other senses? When there are millions of pictures already taken of the Eiffel Tower, where is the value of taking another one? Wouldn’t it be more valuable to simply sit and enjoy the view, to place your hand on the monument and let yourself feel history? A snapshot is so instantaneous and editing the aesthetics is so easy, especially with camera phones. But what would the world be like if everyone translated every sensation of every moment they experienced into a thousand words?

Maybe the thousand words are worth more than we deem. Maybe a thousand words are actually more valuable than a quick picture. We would be sharing essays through our phones and framing prose in our living rooms. That wouldn’t be such a bad place to live.