I started an Instagram account because I wanted to follow some photographers who had been mentioned in a few places. Or maybe it was a contest for travel that I wanted to enter. Or some combination. And I started also because it was a distraction from my lost and broken camera. For whatever reason, you can only post via smartphone, so I would take my photos and post them along.
Only a few people saw them at first, which made sense, slow learning curve and all. Part of which consisted of me applying hashtags to my photos. I don’t know what draws people to different sites. Me? It’s when a general site features a photographer who I admire, so then I follow that photographer as well. But the hashtags turn out to be fun, especially doing them in English and Hebrew. After all, I found this photo of the outside of my house by searching for #tzfat, or was it #צפת?
Looking back at my work, I think I have improved. But, as here, what is appreciated by the public is not what I value the most. That’s okay, since I do know that the game on Instagram is to “follow” someone in order to draw them to follow in return.
I am following the advice given freely by who knows who to do something artistic every day.
Wait a sec–
Oooh, I like this one:
Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep
― Scott Adams
The next step is that I sometimes have chosen to showcase some of the Instagram photos on Facebook. And that’s where the title of this post comes in.
This is the response to a photo of us with our Israel kiddies that I sent my father:
Very good photo and a very good print.I forgot to ask. In your last letter, Why did you need so many # # # ? Take care . Love, Dad
Because the 84 year-olds and the assorted under-the-attachment to technology kiddies will show you in a heartbeat what really matters. But you need them both.
On my way back home today, I was stopped by an older man who was whistling. He asked me,
“Is it okay for me to ask you a question?”
“Of course,” I answered, just a bit skeptically.
“What happened to your smile? Did you lose it?”
Of course, I smiled in return. It was a lovely way to get me to react, as opposed to how others have tried to impose a smile on my face in the past…
I told him I would be very happy to let my father know what he said.
He added, “After all, it says
Serve G-d in happiness; come before Him in singing.
“עִבְדוּ אֶת-ה בְּשִׂמְחָה; בֹּאוּ לְפָנָיו, בִּרְנָנָה
And he went whistling along the path.