Here's to Wednesday...

Sooo this is Christmas. And what have I done? Failed in my mission, that's what. 

You remember how we left things last week? I was going to head into my photo chest and dig out a childhood/teen photo of myself, to put on this week's Christmas post? Previous years have included toddler and small child versions of me, looking excitedly up at the tree, or posing with my presents on Christmas morning - all digital copies I had on my desktop. Testament to the persistence - some might say, unnecessary tenacity - of this blog, I've used them all up now. So, into the photo chest I ventured. 

Ngl, it's absolute carnage in there. There's loads of photos of my wedding. We did that disposable cameras on tables thing, so I've got hundreds of shite photos taken by drunk friends. I've got school trips and college nights out. I've got the Uni years, holidays, and plenty of other people's weddings. What I don't have, is anything Christmassy. Boooo.

This can be viewed in two ways. On the one hand, perhaps I've never had an enjoyable Christmas. Perhaps there's never been a youthful festive experience I've wanted to commit to film. Perhaps I spent the teenage/twenties seasonal periods in a state of ennui. I'm sure there were one or two years around the fourteen/fifteen mark that might be true. But generally I know this not to be the case. 

The second way of looking at things, is probably more accurate. I was having such a good time, seeing friends, going out and about, having festive fun, that I never stopped to bring out my camera or take photos. (Photos that needed developing later. Can you fathom it?!) When I think back to my youth, that's a much more likely explanation.

Me, Dom, and a snowman. 

So what can I impart this Christmas, the year of our Lord, two thousand and twenty four? Here, have this festive-adjacent photo. (The only thing in the photo chest that's even vaguely suitable because it was taken in the winter time, more or less.) It's of me and my brother, about twenty-six years ago. For a while back then, we kinda looked similar. But then I grew my hair out and he got ripped. (Well, as ripped as someone with our genetic legacy can ever be.) We're not twinnies anymore. But back then, the snow had fallen, we were slap bang in the middle of uni and school holidays, and there was only one thing to do. Build a snowman and take a photo. 

The lesson in all of this? Well I'm torn. Initially, I want to say, take more photos. You'll always want to have something to look back on. But you know what? A Christmas well lived, or more broadly, a life well lived, has no time for photographing every single second. If you were busy faffing with zooming and clicking, you'd miss so much stuff! Maybe that's the message. Live in the moment, seize the day, sack off the camera? Who knows? 

What I do know is that twenty-six years have flown by. I feel exactly the same as the person in that photo, short hair and all. And here's the thing... I think the next twenty-six years will be similarly speedy. They'll be gone in a flash, just like that. Except by then, I'll be seventy-two. Seventy-two! That feels quite the mental leap right now. Take photos or don't take photos, that's your choice. But surely the lesson here, is the importance of experiencing every single second. In no time at all, it's game over/end of play/the final whistle. (Insert your own sporting metaphor here.) Living fully before that comes, is the very least we can do. It's our goddamn duty!

Whatever you're doing this week, I hope it's a blast. And if things are tricky and non-blast like, for whatever reason, I hope those feelings ease soon. For now, have a very happy Christmas, a very enjoyable week, and if Christmas is not your bag, I hope Wednesday is the best of days.

Have a lovely week, folks.