image from here
Jamie Livingston received a Polaroid camera in 1979 and starting taking pretty much a picture a day. 6,697 Polaroids chronicle the last 18 years of his life. The collection was turned into an exhibition by his friends. The pictures can be seen here, and you can read more about Livingston here and here.
From the moments he captured, his life looked rich and fulfilling until he was dealt that unexpected hand. That's the beauty and sorrow of photography. You can choose the moment and mood you want to capture and even then, that's not the whole story because it's up to the individual viewer to interpret it as he or she wishes. Like how a friend found the whole thing creepy and depressing when I was thinking it was incredibly beautiful and moving, I suppose.
Just think. If you were to chronicle your own life picture by picture, day by day, what would the final story be like?
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