I’m not usually one to do anything in the spur of the moment. In fact, I was recently described as being “someone who needs to make plans to be spontaneous.” (I wear that as a badge of honor, by the way).

Sometimes, however, something occurs that is so big… so unbelievable… that it calls for throwing caution to the wind.

​This was one of those times.

The task seemed insurmountable to me. The need to go through and consolidate the contents of shoeboxes filled to the brim with pictures of some of the earliest years of my childhood.

These shoeboxes were overflowing with pictures. Pictures of cats. Pictures of cars. Pictures of clouds. Pictures of leaves. Pictures that had some semblance of clarity and pictures that were so blurry that it’d be impossible to pick out my intended subject.  Mostly, they were pictures so dark and formless I can only assume I was quite adept at taking pictures of the insides of my pockets.

(Coming soon to an art museum near you!)

The task became less insurmountable once I got started. I became quite good at going through them. I saved the ones that were artistic and creative. I tossed the blurry ones. I saved the ones that depicted special family memories. I tossed the ones for which I, for whatever reason, already had a digital copy. I saved the ones I’ll want to show my grandkids someday. I tossed the ones I’d be embarrassed to show at all.