I used to take tons of photos. The first camera I remember using was some pseudo-iconic Kodak 35mm camera I bought in Boots in a blister pack. It was small and brown. Photos taken with it were unremarkable, but real. Like bad Martin Parr.
Then my friend Tom introduced me to lomography. Colour saturation! Vignettes! Cross processing! The 10 rules of Lomography - shoot from the hip, don’t think! It was photography’s teenage rebellion against its parent, Ansel Adams. I bought a Lomo LCA and got stuck in. Here’s a lomo of Scott walking on the beach:

Then I moved to Portland, Oregon for my stint at the Mulgrew School. I bought a digital camera to capture the experience. Unlike the film cameras I don’t fondly remember what make it was. I do remember it was black and anonymous with small buttons and batteries. It conveniently captured life, but it did it in a bright, sharp and unforgiving way. Hyper-real:

Back in the UK I gradually stopped taking so many photos. Why did that happen? I think it was something to do with the change in medium.
Film cameras, whether they’re lumps of plastic or Russian works of art, capture a moment in time. You don’t know exactly what 1/60th of a second you got when you press the button. You’ve no idea what its going to look like until the magic ritual of opening a pack of images. They are private, scarce (one shot out of thirty six) and final.
Digital cameras are different. You instantly know which 1/60th you got. Shared rituals such as passing the screen around or viewing on Facebook have replaced opening the packet. Images are public, plentiful (just delete an image to make room) and temporary.
I’m not curmudgeonly complaining about technology here. I just think that all these aspects have changed what I used to think of photography. Technology diluted the significance of the image.
I’m getting back into photography. Part of this involved buying a new camera. Its digital, to make it easy to view and share. One of the reasons I chose that one was because it feels like an old film camera. Its weighty. Its got knurled metal dials. The t has manual affordances - the dials let me know that I can set the shutter speed. These let me take Real.
These images are still not scarce and less valuable. I wasn’t sure what I could do about that. Then I read about Jamie Livingston. He took one polaroid every day for 18 years. Looking through them is an incredible experience - even more so as they capture his whole life in New York right up to his death. He was meticulous about only taking one image a day. Even if he saw something amazing later he wouldn’t shoot it. That’s scarcity. You have one image a day. I’m going to give it a shot. I’ll still take other photos during the day, but every day I’m going to have one image to be part of the series of images per day.