It all started with my camera. Or should I say “re-started”. Because in the past few years, I had progressively removed from my life every thing that came in consumables to replace them by de-materialised content: digital photography (from compact to DSLR), portable music (MP3 players, then directly on phones), e-readers. But I realised that by making it more convenient and easy, it caused all these activities to take way too much of my life (some more than others). When I was taking my DSLR around, I was taking so many photos it was cutting the pleasure out of visiting the places I was travelling to.
That’s why, in 2013, I decided to go to Korea for a few weeks and not take my camera. And obviously, what should have happened, happened: I was missing taking photos. A friend suggested to buy a disposable camera (I didn’t even know it still existed), and shoot. And although it was an expensive alternative to DSLR, it gave me a sense of challenge, since I had to adapt to the − huge − limitations of the camera. But it didn’t prevent me from taking night time photos:
And I loved it!
So it didn’t take much for me to switch and buy a used SLR and going chemical. I’m still doing film photography, and not ready to stop.
But it wasn’t the end of it. It recently leaked over other “hobbies”. Despite my e-reader, I always kept a foot in the paperback world, because there is always some time I go to a book store, browse around and decide to take something, although I could just write down the title (in my phone) and buy the e-book online. But I don’t. Because somehow, I still want to be able to just buy a book on a whim, because I liked a cover, and not after I spent an hour browsing the web for reviews, reading the author’s bio on Wikipedia, and doing a pros and cons list that takes another hour. The other day I bought a book just because someone (I didn’t even know) told me it was a good book. And I loved it. I want to be surprised like this. It doesn’t happen online.
And more recently, I started a vinyl disc collection. It’s still small, and since I moved to Montréal, I don’t have a turntable anymore, but I want to have more of these. When I listen to music on my phone, it’s mostly to make the commute less boring; when I listen to music from the computer, it’s while doing something else. But if I need to get up every 18 min to turn a LP around, I better listen and enjoy the music!
And that’s the whole point: to enjoy.
Whether it’s reading a book, doing photography, or listening to music, even watching a movie, I don’t enjoy it as much as when I have to go out of my ways to do it.
I don’t enjoy the low-tech because it’s more convenient. I enjoy it because it’s not.
And I find it funny that it took a week without my smartphone to realise why I was doing what I was doing.
I am not going to lie. The smartphone is freaking useful. Possibilities are endless. Writing down an appointment (and getting a reminder), having your whole address book handy, even if you change your phone, plus all the small apps dedicated to your town or the services you use, are the many things that make the smartphone a very handy and almost indispensable tool in the pocket. Unless there is an apocalypse, I won’t be getting rid of mine anytime soon. I don’t either want to buy a new one when mine will be really busted, unless there is a really fair and environmentally viable alternative to what is done today
But right now, my choice to go back to low tech isn’t even ecological (it still nice to have ecology on your side though). It’s a behaviour-related choice. It’s about separating what I like the most from the noisy digital world, and doing the effort that will make it worth. My enjoyment is proportional to the effort I take to achieve it.