It's quite convenient that when locked, you can slide up the phone screen to reveal the camera, right? It makes it easier to quickly capture a funny moment on the spot. But...
Space is at a premium on my phone; it's only a 4s after all (old school!)... almost daily I open my camera roll to see an entire screen of finger-in-front-of-the-lens snapshots. Some renegade photographer (of the three-foot and under crowd) has snagged it again and taken aim at life.
Usually, I select the whole lot of the day and delete these by the batch. They are generally blurry and unrecognizable... but sometimes?
Sometimes, I look a bit more critically, and see something that's actually quite beautiful, a blur of color, like a rainbow, or simply, a different perspective, or a random look at life around the house.
I had this revelation last night as I scrolled through my photos. Sometimes we love technology; sometimes we curse it. But the easy access for little hands to snap photos gives evidence of something we wouldn't otherwise have... their perspective.
Usually, I reprimand-- I don't want them thinking they can grab my phone whenever they want without permission-- but secretly, I'm starting to appreciate their little snapshots more.
I'm finding beauty in the perspective of my little photographers, how they see life, and what they view as worthy of a capture.
This is Day 3 of 31 Days of the Life Poetic. View the other posts in this series here.
