Keepsy might be on to something with the service that taps into the Instagram API and allows you to simply produce a physical album based on your best photos.
I like taking photos and I do it a lot. I have all the cameras I need, all the software I need and then some, plus I have flickr account where good and bad photos end up. Taken for all kinds of different reasons. And I’m certainly not alone. Photography has seen a boom lately for very obvious reasons.
Most imaging processing software now allows us to not only batch upload to flickr and export to web, but also order prints. iPhoto, Photoshop Elements and from Flickr as well. The barrier between going from digital photos (very good but no real magic) to physical (still something special about it) isn’t very high. Except for the fact that it requires you to take the time to select a bunch of best ones out of a bigger bunch (sometimes ridiculously big). When you look at some folks’ digital albums/folders, that selection has clearly not been made.
Still there is something missing for me. I love prints, and I’m not alone. So I love the fact that there are some really cool innovations when it comes to getting printed photos in the hands and wallets of people. I just ordered this magnificent PoGo portable printer from Polaroid (and do check out Zink, a company that makes this happen) from which I don’t expect high quality prints, but simple and quick ones that end up in my home and not my home page. Memories and anything worth being reminded of shouldn’t just sit on Flickr. That allows access by friends and family (and you) which is brilliant, but you don’t go there with a plan to remember what you did, do you? No, photos should be intrusive. They should be surprising and not have to wait for an invite. They need to jump at you every now and again and pick you up. Make you smile just like that. Why not let all the senses remember?
You can get vivid memories from just the smell of asphalt being touched by summer heat. Or wet leaves in autumn. Having a physical photo, touching it, evokes memories and the feeling is not the same if you only trigger that memory by seeing only. A worn out photo with jagged edges says more about the affectionate connection with the viewer than a view count on flickr. Feeling the friction of a photo, I’m sure triggers more than sight only. It adds some closeness.
A while ago I was thinking about all kinds of possible stuff thanks to the cloud, and it made me think of ATM-like printing for some reason. Kind of silly and I thought nothing more of it, after all you simply load your memory card at the photo store which isn’t far from it. But again, the proximity/immediacy/sorting aspect is enough to make that a small project*.
Instaprint from BREAKFAST ny on Vimeo.
Instaprint from the agency Breakfast feels a bit like a printing ATM to me though. I’d love to have one at the office, at home or wherever the party is. I like how printing stuff (small stuff) is as effortless as sharing photos digitally. Not that I know how that will realistically happen on a larger scale, and not that we need the same volume of photos printed out, but I love where these ideas and technical solutions are going. Maybe ATM like printing isn’t so silly after all, by way of a cloud/wifi/bluetooth/pay-per-print type set-up in strategic locations.

The Instaprinter in action. With its specific location or hashtag.
* I did some research for an Adobe project a few years ago and I talked with a great deal of people running photo stores. More than a few told me that some of the most frequent issues and questions they get is about helping people get their photos back, as their computers have crashed. The answer was “I don’t know how to restore hard drives, I run a photo store”. Most of them did sell external hard drives though… I don’t know how true or verifiable this is, but one guy said that in 20 years we’ll have young families with no recorded memories of their kids growing up. Simple reason being - computer crashed and nothing was printed. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s right. Perhaps we’re there already.