I broke the camera lens on my phone twelve months ago. Three times I tried to get it repaired, and three times I was rebuffed or quoted a bill far larger than I wanted to pay for a working camera. The rest of the phone worked fine, and I could still take blurry close-ups of anything truly important. If I really got desperate, I could use the selfie-camera and rely on the auto-zoom.
No problem, I thought. I can do without a camera. I’ll make do with what I’ve got. I placed sticky tape over the shattered lens and got on with things.
The first problem came a few months ago, when I needed to photograph a doctors receipt for the Australian medicare app. Getting an image clear enough required several attempts, many knock-backs, and a convoluted set-up that involved lying under a coffee table and trying to take a clear selfie of the receipt on the tabletop above me.
It was a minor thing, not enough to convince me I should change, even though I’d make occasional overtures towards getting the lens repaired.
It wasn’t until the phone refused to change that I finally moved on, accepting what needed to be done.
So, last week, I got a new phone. Found myself in possession of a working camera once again. Just to cover the little things, like taking photographs of bills when needed. Or scanning documents and receipts, when I want a virtual record instead of the cheap, flimsy strips of paper that deteriorate and fade.
Almost immediately, I began to photograph things. Started looking at the world around me with an eye towards taking a snapshot.
Old habits, left to go dormant while the tools were broke, coming to life again. Embracing the low-pressure creativity, a thing I can do for fun instead of thinking about how it fits into my career and advances a step towards a long-term goal.
