Material Goods


I sold one of my cameras yesterday and in typical fashion for me, it made me think about how this action relates to a bigger picture. It also must be exam time because I am procrastinating writing by writing.

I have an unhealthy attachment to material goods and as such, selling this camera was a positive action. It was cathartic in so many ways. The camera is a Yashica Mat LM from the 1960s and I bought it about 9 years ago in London, Ontario. It took me a while to remember how I had procured this camera. I sold it to rid myself of something I didn’t use very often and because an extra 200$ is an extra 200$. However it took me a few months of wrestling back and forth to finally sell it. What I thought about today was where did my hesitation in selling this camera come from? What makes this piece of metal(and by the way, I own another Yashica TLR camera) special? What causes attachment?

First, what makes this camera special? My answers to that question would be: it was one of my first camera purchases and that the pictures I have taken with it remind me of a time long past. So, what does it matter that it was one of my first purchases? I didn’t keep my first banjo and I have no idea what the first book I bought on my own is. Music and literature make up part of my identity in the same way photography does. It seems silly to imbue this camera with a sense of specialness for something as mundane as when it was purchased. It took me an afternoon to remember that I had bought it in London, Ontario! Secondly, is it the camera itself that reminds me of the past or is it the pictures I have taken with it? The pictures itself are my reminders and as pictures are an outcome of a process, any of my cameras are capable of this.

Where is the hesitation aside from this? It really is a number of things, all irrational in their own right. What if this camera is unique? What is the value of this camera skyrockets in the future and I miss out? What is my other camera breaks and I’m left with no camera? This fear of missing out or fear of the unknown is beyond silly, however it informs much of what I do. So selling this camera was a way of letting go of this. Would I be upset if this camera was some rare specimen that netted the new owner a lot of money? Yes! But honestly, that chances of that happening are slim to none.

We form attachments to material goods, considered commodities, by turning them into singular objects. This camera, one of tens of thousands like it made, transforms from a commodity by virtue of my imbuing it with meaning. This isn’t a bad thing and we all do it but we are not, or should not be slaves to our material possessions, no matter how attached we believe ourselves to be to them. At least this is how I would like to think…serenity now…

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