“They” say that a picture is worth a thousand words. I think that it all depends on who you ask. For my part, a picture is worth only as much as the words used to describe it.
Take movies. Probably one of the most “picture” driven media, right? I don’t get them. I don’t ever get them. That is, unless they’re subtitled. Unless I can read the words on the screen, I won’t be able to follow the visual action taking place on the screen. It will pass by me unnoticed. The words on the screen are the anchor that allows me to follow the action.
Picture books? I can do with them or without them. I enjoy having pictures–but they are definitely secondary to the words. I read Dr. Seuss and don’t even notice his drawings unless the text points out a specific detail for me to search for. Books that are entirely pictures, with no text at all, are torturous. Even in books for which the pictures are presumably the primary draw–like a book of home decorating ideas–I read the text first. I like the pictures, I study them carefully–but only after reading the text. Sometimes I agree and sometimes I disagree with the text, but I can’t not read it.
I force myself, when visiting museums, to look at exhibits first before reading the information–just as a mental exercise. It’s tough. Even if I’m looking at a painting or a quilt, my first instinct is to read the caption. Then I try to see the quilt or painting through the author’s eyes, or the artist’s eyes, or whatever. I love art. I love gazing at it. I can sit and stare at a piece of art for hours. I stand back for perspective, I get in close so that I can see individual brushstrokes or stitches. I look at it from this angle or that. But I must read the “comments”.
Once upon a time, I envisioned a blog that would include pictures on almost every post. Many others do it. It’s not that hard. It’s easy to take a picture, easy to download it online. But I’ve discovered that from my point of view, the picture is only an accessory to the story–not the story itself. The picture is only as important as how it contributes to the text. So, a lot of times, I discover that including a picture is pointless.
I love pictures. I love taking them. I love looking at them. I love cataloguing them (yes, even that!). But the stories, the text, that goes with them is my first love. My favorite artifact is a letter, a notebook, a scrawled poem, or passed note. The photo may be interesting, but it’s even more interesting to see what my great-grandma saw as important about the photo. The exact location where the photo was taken. That it was the last photo of Joshua with my grandpa before Grandpa died. Anna may have been cute in that photo playing with her new shoes–but the important thing is the story–how Grandma insisted that she go to the special shoe store and get specially fitted for her first shoes–heaven forbid Anna learn to walk in homemade booties!
A picture may be worth a thousand words to you; but for me, pictures are only an accessory to the truly valuable text.