Generations: The Meaning of Life in a Little Less Than 1000 Words

For this second unit of our Journalism class, Photography, we learned a lot about the art of photography. We learned about aperture and lighting and focus, and how they all affect a picture in different ways. We also learned about different famous photographs, such as Tank Man. We had to create our own picture for this Action Project, and interview the person that we were photographing about the meaning of life. And then, write around eight hundred to a thousand words based on an interview that we conducted with them before taking the photo or after taking the photo.

I decided to ask my father about what he believed the meaning of life to be, and if I could also take photos of him to go with the project. My dad is one of the biggest role models in my life, and I consider his opinion to be very valuable on pretty much any topic. So, I thought that he was a fairly obvious choice to ask the age-old question of “What is the meaning of life?” I interviewed him on Wednesday, November 4th, at around 9:00 in the morning in our kitchen. We'd just gotten done with breakfast, so the rising sun's light was still shining through the window that we have that overlooks our garden. 

“Tim Bale, a professor at Queen Mary University in London, said that the meaning of life is not being dead.” He laughed, with that infectious laugh of his, so I couldn’t help myself but chuckle a little along with him. My dad’s laugh is a warm, low sound, something I’ve heard often over my 17 years of living. “But, to me, the meaning of life is being loved, and to love another.” He elaborated after we both paused to let the laughter fade away. And I think that’s a pretty beautiful way of looking at life. 

You see, my dad's actually originally from England. The outskirts of London, if you want to get specific. He came to the states for college, and has been living here for about 35 years, now. And pretty much the sole reason for him staying was that he met my mother while he was here, going to Northern Illinois University. Falling in love with my mom changed my dad's life completely. Without her, it's not as likely that he would've stayed here in America. That love between them, the fact that it's lasted as long as it has, is the basis behind my own existence, the reason I'm even able to sit here and tell this story to you. And without their parents before them, they wouldn't exist, either. One could argue that love is the basis for the majority of the human population's existence. It's part of the reason why that number still keeps climbing. But is love the true meaning of life? I think that's up for interpretation, but it's an interpretation that my dad sticks by. 

WH, Generations, 2020

The photo above was taken digitally using my iPhone 8’s built-in camera and the standard camera app. It’s a photo of my grandfather’s watch, which my dad has been keeping as a family heirloom ever since he passed away before my birth. The image was created with a low aperture putting my dad's hand into sharp focus with strong lighting contrast. The counter top's natural smokey finish enhances the blurring of the background. The bracelet in the center low third of the composition counterbalances his extended finger in the center of the photograph. 

The subject, my grandfather's watch, is the connection that my father feels to him in the afterlife. The ethereal light at the top of the picture frame enhances that aura along with the strong light and dark contrasts on his hand. The outstretched finger touches the edge of the picture frame, making the viewer aware of its limit while his wrist flows out of the frame and into our space. The watch may be a genuine Rolex or an imitation, but my father doesn't know and never plans to find out. And our judgement of that fact influences how we see the image.

One of the basic facets of journalism is to be 100% non-biased and objective about you work. But is that really possible with photojournalism? I'd say that it really isn't; choosing a subject in the first place to photograph is, in itself, is a form of subjectivity.

But I also think that that's alright to have in a photo. It gives it more meaning, more substance. And this is certainly an emotional picture. "My father used to wear this watch every day," my dad told me when I asked him about why it was so important to him. "He was known for being a bit of a handyman, so sometimes when I'm doing a project around the house..I wear it, and I ask him for advice." And it's true; I'd seen him several times before working on various household projects or working on his garden with the very same watch on his wrist. I never knew the true meaning up until this interview. I never got to know the original owner, but I think I can feel some of the love imparted by him into this object. I can only ever know what my grandfather was like through stories, through pictures, but this watch serves as one of the only physical reminders of him left. One day, I'll be the owner of that watch, passed down from my dad to me. And I know that I'll be able to call upon the same sense of love that he gets from it. 

I thought that this was a really interesting project to work on. It was a very insightful project, and I got a chance to speak to and learn things about my dad that I'd never really heard or asked of him before. It was difficult to describe the photo, though; I'm not really a big photographer, and only really take pictures as a thing of efficiency, not art. But I can understand the sentiment, for sure.