Screens surround us all. We scroll through thousands of images every day—on our phones, our laptops, our watches, our TVs. We take photos and forget we even took them. Then, we back them up to hard drives and cloud services and tell ourselves that’s enough. And yet, with all this convenience, something’s still missing. Printed photos haven’t disappeared. They’ve just gotten quieter. And I don’t think they’re going anywhere.
Digital and Printed Photos in My Life
I have tens of thousands of photos on my phone. My cats, my kids, my dogs being very cute, a tree I thought was pretty, the ocean. Additionally, my hard drives hold tens of tens of thousands more. But in my house? They’re printed and displayed on the walls. In frames, in acrylic blocks, and on canvases. Many of them are from Printique because their quality holds up beautifully over time—and because I trust them with the moments that matter.
Moments like my daughters climbing a glacier in Iceland. I’ve printed a funny double exposure of my partner and me from the time we worked together on a volunteer photo shoot for WIPA. These prints are the history of myself, my family, and my travels, displayed and treasured.
There’s a physicality to a printed photograph that you just don’t get from a swipe or a scroll. Paper holds weight. Texture. Presence. You look at a photo on a screen, and it’s one of many. You hold a print in your hand, and it becomes singular. It demands your attention in a different way.
Whether it’s a framed portrait on a bookshelf, a wedding album on your coffee table, or a print from decades ago tucked into a drawer, printed photos encourage you to slow you down. You stop, you look, you remember. There’s no notification pinging at you from the corner, no accidental scroll past the image. You’re not squinting at a thumbnail, trying to remember the moment. You’re holding it. And the memory holds back.
Collected vs. Displayed
As a photographer, I spend a lot of time with digital files. I back them up in triplicate. I deliver galleries online. There is value in that speed and ease, especially for clients sharing images across time zones and continents. But I also know that the photos that last are the ones you can touch. The ones that make it out of the folder and into a frame. Photos you don’t need a login to access. The ones that can’t be lost to a hard drive failure or an expired subscription.
When I deliver a wedding gallery, I always hope at least some of those images will be printed. It’s not only my job but a service to help my clients do just that, not just for show but because it changes how you interact with them. A print on the wall becomes part of your daily life. An album on the shelf is something you can pull out for your kids—or your grandkids.
These aren’t backup copies. They’re the real version, made physical. And when it comes to printing, I recommend Printique every time. Their albums are meticulously handcrafted, their wall art is gallery quality, and they offer everything from metal prints to fine art giclée to photo books that don’t just sit—they speak.
Passing Down Memories with Printed Photos
I’ve photographed families looking through their parents’ wedding albums, pointing to faces they haven’t seen in years. Couples sometimes cry while turning pages of their own book for the first time. I’ve delivered albums that will be passed down and loose prints that will be tucked into boxes and rediscovered. I’ve gone back to a family home to see my images from a wedding almost a decade ago in frames. These things don’t happen when the images live in a digital gallery link you forgot to bookmark. They happen because someone printed them. And if they are printed with Printique, I know they’ll last.
There’s also something to be said for permanence. Screens change. Technology shifts. File formats evolve. But prints, if cared for, last. Archival materials like the ones used by Printique are designed to outlive the photographer who made them. They don’t rely on charging cables or software updates. And while the digital version might get buried in the noise, the print is still sitting quietly on the wall, doing its job.
Printed Photos Change the Way You See
I also believe that printing your photos helps you see them differently. You become more intentional. You choose what to frame, what to display, and what to hold on to. You’re not just reacting to a screen full of images—you’re deciding what deserves space in your home. That choice, that curation, gives weight to the image. It helps the photo move from moment to memory. And Printique offers tools that make that process intuitive—from their easy-to-use online editor to their thoughtfully curated product collections, it’s all there to help you make your images tangible.
And it’s not about nostalgia. It’s about presence. A printed photo doesn’t ask anything from you. It’s not clickable. It’s not linked to a store. It doesn’t autoplay the next thing. It just exists. And in that stillness, there’s something valuable. Something that reminds us why we picked up a camera in the first place. Not just to document but to remember.
I think about my own life—images of my kids as toddlers, my own personal photos, snapshots from travels long past. The prints are what I reach for first. They’re the ones I’ve framed, gifted, and I have carried with me. Many of them were printed through Printique because I want the peace of mind that they’ll last. The rest are somewhere in a folder, probably named something like “IMG_2023.final.final.realfinal.final.jpg” with a timestamp. Important, yes. But easy to forget.
There’s a difference between having a photo and living with it.
That’s why I’ll keep offering prints, albums, and framed work. That’s why I encourage clients to take their favorite images off the screen and into their space. Not because I don’t value digital files—I do. But because the printed version does something else entirely. It becomes part of your home. It becomes part of the way you tell your story back to yourself. And with Printique, those stories can live on your walls, your shelves, and in your hands—exactly where they belong.
Will people keep posting their wedding photos on Instagram? Of course. Will they keep texting family portraits to grandparents who live far away? Absolutely. But the power of a printed photo isn’t going anywhere. If anything, it becomes more meaningful the more we live our lives online.
It’s a small act, printing a photo. But it holds weight. Literally and figuratively.
And years from now, when the tech has changed again, and the platforms we rely on now have faded, the prints will still be here. Quiet, steady, and still telling your story. Preferably printed on thick, archival paper from Printique.
