Sepia Tones

I have this old commemorative issue of Rolling Stone. It has some of the best pictures printed in the magazine over the years, with their photographers talking about them. There’s one of Chevy Chase, John Belushi and the rest of the cast of Saturday Night Live and another one of a pensive Janis Joplin. There’s one of a nervous Buddy Holly and one of a happy Kurt Cobain. There’s one of Paul McCartney sitting away from John Lennon, and one of Lennon with Yoko Ono.

The people who’ve taken those pictures have written what they remember about the time the picture was taken – the social mileau at the time, the artiste’s mood, the chemistry.

Most of those people, both the stars and the shutterbugs, are dead. Many died quite tragically but it’s almost as if the pictures speak for them and keep them alive. And of those who’re still alive, you can’t help wondering if perhaps this was the way they wanted to live back then.

It’s the same with old family photos. All those people, all their hopes and dreams and petty rivalries. Half of them dead, some complete strangers to you. And a few known faces that look just like yours.

Old photographs. They take you to a place away from this world and remind you of the finality of death. You can be funny, sarcastic, bitter, jolly, cheerful, pretty, vain or whatever else. You die. So does everyone you know. And the only thing that remains are photographs for some dumb kid to look at, decades from now.

When you open a photo album, the past stares back at you. And you look away, not wanting to see your future.

3 thoughts on “Sepia Tones

  1. I had once written a post about this, but that was another time another blog.People die. And we mourn their death but we eventually get over it. But for the person who dies, that is it. The end. You don’t get a chance to amend. You couldn’t be worried about whether people are relieved or saddened that you no longer exist. You might as well have not existed ever.Yeah, photos, many years hence, in sepia.


  2. “..Or are you a stranger without even a name, Forever enshrined behind some old glass pane,In an old photograph, torn and tattered and stained, And fading to yellow in a brown leather frame?”


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s