We live in the era of "Shoot, Check, Delete, Retake." We take 50 photos of a sunset to get one good one.
We experience life through a viewfinder screen.
For 7 days, I locked my iPhone camera. I bought a disposable Kodak FunSaver with 27 exposures.
Rules: No digital photos. No checking photos. Once the click happens, it is permanent.
> DAY 1: THE PHANTOM SCREEN CHECK
I went to a cafe. The latte art was beautiful. I reached for my phone. Stopped. Grabbed the plastic
brick.
*CLICK* (The loud mechanical plastic winding sound turned heads).
My thumb instinctively swiped the back of the disposable camera to "check" the photo. I was swiping
plastic.
I felt like an idiot.
Realization: Checking the photo is an anxiety response. It's asking, "Did I capture
it?" instead of "Did I see it?"
> THE ECONOMICS OF A SHUTTER CLICK
// Cost per Photo Analysis
- iPhone Photo: $0.00 (Infinite supply)
- Disposable Photo: ~$0.90 (Camera + Dev + Scan / 27)
When every photo costs a dollar and you only have 27 slots, you become a sniper. You don't take photos of your lunch unless it's the best lunch of your life. You don't take selfies. You wait for moments.
> THE MOMENTS I DIDN'T SHOOT
On Day 3, I saw a beautiful street dog sleeping in a sunbeam. I raised the camera. Then I thought, "Is this worthy of Slot #14?" I decided no. I just looked at the dog. I enjoyed the moment with my eyes. Without the compulsion to document everything, I felt... lighter. My memory was doing the recording.
> DAY 7: THE REVEAL
I finished the roll. I dropped it off at a lab. I had to wait 24 hours.
The anticipation was delicious. I had forgotten what I took photos of on Day 1.
When the email with the scans arrived, it felt like Christmas morning.
> ANALYSIS: PERFECTION VS REALITY
Out of 27 photos:
- 5 were blurry.
- 3 were too dark (underexposed).
- 1 had my thumb in it.
- 18 were... perfect.
> CONCLUSION
I have 30,000 photos on my phone. I look at none of them. I have printed these 27 photos and put them in an album. I look at them every day. Scarcity creates value.