Here’s the problem with us: we’re great at taking pictures of the commonplace and ordinary (the daily life of babies, trees, the stuff in the check-out line in the supermarket), but we often forget entirely to document the rare and wonderful.

For example: we spent last weekend in New York. The occasion was having been asked to speak at Welcome Table Press‘s symposium In Praise of the Essay, Practice & Form. We were speaking on form, specifically on the “visual essay,” a form we knew absolutely nothing about (though, apparently, practice, to the tune of 6+ books a year).

The point is, it was our highest-profile speaking gig to date, and by far our biggest audience. Did we remember to take a picture of the amphitheater or the crowd of 125 laughing essayists? Did we take a picture of our faces on the 20-foot screen at the front of the room? Did we capture the precious moments with the legion of famous writers that surrounded us.

Friends, we did not. Instead, we took photos like this one.

There we are, disgruntled at the end of an otherwise spectacular day, because we forgot to take a single photo of the good stuff.

One could argue that it’s better this way. That we were simply too busy living life to the fullest to take a bunch of photos. That what really matters is the essence of experience and not appearances.

To this we say “hogwash.” We all know that life is about taking provocative photos for you, reader, and posting them here. It’s all about you.

Since we have nothing else to offer by way of evidence that we were actually at the Essay Symposium, let me offer you a few slides from our presentation. The argument went something like this:

Matthew is a writer.

Robbi is an illustrator.

For the most part, we have a good time.

But when asked to present at the Essay Symposium, we were confused.

The process of figuring out what in the world to say to a room full of essayists was a daunting and thankless task.

Until we realized that the essay is a generous, welcoming form, willing to embrace even the likes of Robbi and me.

At which point, we felt so good that we jumped on a comet and raced around the solar system for a while.

In actuality, our argument was slightly more nuanced, but these were the high points. Maybe someday we’ll figure out a way to put the whole thing online.

In spite of the stunning lack of visual documentation, we had a great time at the symposium, exploring an entirely new corner of the literary universe, trying on a new set of shoes, meeting a bunch of amazing people, and once again having occasion to ask ourselves what in the hell we are doing.

May we never find the answer.