Facets of ExistenceOne pristine California summer day, my uncle and I went on a photography excursion. In the moments I spent with my uncle, my whole vision of photography changed. He explained to me that photography is the art of capturing something beautiful that ordinary people experience every day. Every time I take a photo, his words cross my mind. I live my daily life with viewfinders instead of eyes; always looking for that little poignant detail that goes unnoticed. Photographers are special people. They are able to capture not only a physical being but also an emotion. This emotion is infused into a tangible object, a photograph. I can look at a photo I took once and start laughing, crying, and sometimes both. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”? Get an original essay A photograph evokes a memory; a time and place specific to the object. When I look at the first photo I took of my father and his father, I remember how heavy the camera was and too big for my four-year-old fingers to grip. It was so difficult to lift that I almost cut their heads off in the final product. Photographs encompass memory and emotion, but there are times when the sole purpose of a photograph is to be aesthetic. This selection does not go unnoticed but is best served as a collection of photos organized into a coffee table book for guests to keep busy. Photography is deceptively simple, but philosopher Roland Barthes, in an excerpt from his book Camera Lucida, does not view photography as such. It simplifies photography to the extreme, in its purest form, the truth. Photography is so much more. When I take out my camera on a sunny day, I'm not looking for specific objects that might evoke certain feelings in the viewer. I have the impression that the emotion of a photograph comes from the photographer. If the photographer is affected by the situation, the photograph will convey this affection to him. A photograph is meant to connect with the world, to show what others cannot see. Non-conscientious people become aware of the outside world through the effortless transition of emotions in a photograph. Barthes somewhat agrees with the raw truth of emotion but does not outwardly support the emotional aspect of photography. The fact that “the essence of a photograph is to ratify what it represents” can be interpreted as inadvertently confirming the emotion contained in the photographs (3). However, Barthes makes no mention of a connection of emotion in the photograph. The emotion is too complicated to integrate into his simplification of the photographs. Happiness is one of the easiest feelings to experience from a photograph. It's easy for a smile to transcend a piece of Kodak paper and reflect on an outward face. Taking happy photos is also an effortless task. It's easy to take a snapshot of someone opening a birthday present or getting excited to see an old face. The simplicity of taking a photo and the joy it involves transcends paper. However, my photographs serve a broader purpose. I use alone time as an opportunity to meditate. Being alone with my thoughts, walking in the sun, noticing hidden beauty is my ideal time. Because of the calming nature of my walks, my photos exude tranquility. The lonely chair covered in leavesThe dead give off a welcoming warmth. The open face and striking wear of the wicker provide weary comfort, inviting a weary stranger to take a seat. The light of the sun amazes those who suspect nothing. As if a person's soul continues to rest on this chair. Overall, a sense of comfort and peace soothes the viewer, releasing the stress embodied in everyday life. This is the meaning of photography, to transmit emotions. Photography allows me to release my daily stress and, in turn, I create placid photographs that can take other people into a more serene atmosphere. A photograph can tell you everything that happened in an instant. This power has the ability to defeat someone when they look at a photo. Many of my photographs capture special moments. When I look at a photo, I return to that precise moment, feeling each of my senses awaken. This capacity is incredibly powerful and “nevertheless superior to anything that the human mind can or has been able to conceive to assure us of reality” (Barthes 4). The truth is the bare minimum of a photograph while memories are a minor fabrication of that truth. Photographs help jumpstart the mind into memory. However, Barthes believes that photographs are “never, in essence, a memory” and that they “in reality block memory, and quickly become a counter-memory” (6). The idea is that by looking through past photographs, a person is not actually experiencing that memory. Memory does not exist. It is simply instilled in this solitary photograph. If this is true, why are photographs often used to initiate conversations about childhood memories? Why do many people feel a "jump" of memory when looking at a childhood photograph? I could not remember the distinct details of my many travels without the use of my photographs. My memory is fuzzy but with the help of a photo I can remember that the Eiffel Tower is lit every night or that there used to be a snowstorm in Issaquah. I cherish my travels and love marking them with countless photographs. The most common way to promote a photograph is through vacation and travel memories. There's a reason why families constantly take photos of children at birthday parties, plays, or musical events, so they can bring back specific memories years later. Very often when a family remembers, a photo album is present. This is not a coincidence. The presence of photographs helps kick-start the memory. The memory may be fabricated, but an instance of the photograph will remain true. Photography allows a person to take a journey. When I look at a photo, I feel like I'm traveling back in time to that moment. There is no better feeling than being able to relive the “good times”. The photographs enrich the experience. Looking at the vibrant photograph of the Eiffel Tower, I am transcended by a past traveling with my high school orchestra. I can feel the soft, brisk evening wind and hear the vendors trying to sell wine to couples trying to live in the romance that is Paris. I remember waiting anxiously, sitting on the damp green lawn, for the lights of the tower to sparkle and for my chance to capture the moment. It seemed like an eternity. Not only do I remember the Eiffel Tower but I am also moved by the memories of these incredible ten days in Europe. The pleasure of traveling to a city dependent on a language that I did not know. The seemingly random concerts played by the orchestra, the infinite quantity..