Creativity

Apr

2012

Life is what happens…

Part of the thrill of working on long term photographic projects is the fun they create. I’m not talking about getting that amazing once-in-a-lifetime-oh-my-gawd-you-have-got-to-see-this! shot. Rather I’m talking about the situations these projects draw us into, quite by accident.

I liken this to the adventure along the way that a backpacking trip might create. Or much the same with a road trip; that feeling of not quite meandering aimlessly along backcountry roads, but the adventure that happens if you give yourself enough time to pay attention to your surroundings as you head toward your destination.

This very thing has happened to me on numerous occasions as I work on my varying projects. I’ve discovered a fun local band called “Los Garapatas” (“The Ticks”) while shooting a Matanza (a traditional Hispanic pig roast), I’ve stumbled across polo players in the mountains of SouthWestern New Mexico, I’m been on a mountain top at dawn, I’ve eaten pie in Pie Town, and I’ve spent an enjoyable day watching a high school baseball double header this past weekend between two teams vying for the district championships. Good stuff! A perfectly enjoyable day. And my camera took me there.

What have you discovered as you chased that once-in-a-lifetime shot? What have you enjoyed that you would have enjoyed without the camera, but it was the camera that took you there? After all, life is what happens to us while we’re busy making other plans (or making pictures.)

Apr

2012

Do What You Can

The problem with being a creative is not always the lack of ideas; the problem with being a creative is sometimes too many ideas. Ted Orland, in Art and Fear, a book he co-wrote with David Bayles, mentions that often times the problem is better identified as a lack of creative discipline regarding the ideas. We get overrun by them and they can get it the way of actually creating and completing projects.

The other day I complained to my wife that I hadn’t had enough time to go out and photograph what I wanted. Her reply was not what I expected. Nor was it what I wanted to hear, “yeah, but you’re getting better at shooting what you CAN shoot…!!”

Ouch, but true!

What she meant was I was getting better at photographing our kids and our family life. She’s right. If I keep at something, keep studying, keep applying myself, learn new techniques and ways of seeing or interpreting, the images get better – mostly because I get better as a photographer and editor. And that means something.

All of us are limited by our life situation. We like to think we are free, and we like to yearn for more freedom. But we are as free as we are and lots can be done with that. The challenge often is not necessarily to strive for greater freedom, for greater access, for more time, for more gear, for more, for more…; rather the challenge is to focus on what is possible. To dream what is possible where others might not see it.

There is a story I heard years ago about a woman in India who was revered as a meditation teacher. Early in her life she had married and her husband forbade her to practice formal meditation. She acquiesced. But still she somehow practiced. When asked much later in her life about how she managed to develop such strong meditative practices and such great inner peace without formal practice she answered, as many meditation teachers will, with a question: “what is meditation?”

Her students dutifully responded, “the practice of paying attention in this moment and this moment only.”

She then continued, “and so, when I stirred the rice, I stirred the rice; When I swept the floor I swept the floor; and when I ate, I ate.”

She did what she could with what she had, and she perfected her practice.

What can you do in this moment, in this situation, to practice photography despite your situation? What can you do without changing anything externally, but rather turning your attention to what you CAN do. Can you focus there? (Pun not intended.)

I can’t always photograph what I want to photograph, but I sure can photograph what is available to me. And can you guess which option will actually result in an image – perhaps even a good one?

Mar

2012

Form and Shape

I’ve been reading a book lately, “The Mind’s Eye” by Oliver Sacks, where the author, psychiatrist, and neuroscientist explores the effects of damage to the brain on vision. Initially I had thought the book would be about challenges for people who had lost their vision, either completely (blindness) or partially (legal blindness). As a counselor I was interested in learning more about how people adapt to such drastic life changes. However, as I read I discovered Sacks was exploring something altogether different, and I was intrigued with its implications for photography.

Early in the book Sacks meets, befriends, and studies a woman who has suffered a non-debilitating stroke in the visual area of the brain at the back of the head. Not only was the stroke not debilitating in the way we are accustomed to recognizing stroke victims, it actually went unnoticed to the victim-at least initially.

What was damaged in this woman was an area of the brain that processes visual stimuli-the area of the brain that makes sense of what we see. In effect, she began to have difficulty recognizing common objects for what they were. She could “see” them just fine; that is, there was nothing wrong with her eyes. It was just that her brain was not able to make sense of the visual input; the software got confused, as it were. This was most notable with sheet music (she was an accomplished pianist) as well as the written word. She was suddenly unable to read! (Oddly, the ability to write was unaffected-that skill is controlled by an altogether different area of the brain). Eventually this inability to recognize symbols and objects spread to simple, common, things like a banana or a bottle of mineral water.

Imagine seeing the shape and form of a banana but not being to recognize it as such.

So this got me thinking; after all, this photography passion of mine (and yours, yes?) lies in a visual medium. What would our photography be like without the ability to recognize common objects as such? Some of my friends already play in this area of visual space; they are quite good at photographing space, shape, form, shadow, contrast. They can be drawn to it.

I find I have a hard time with this. Sure, I can photograph some lines and shadow, but they usually surround, are infused, and represent actual, recognizable things. Abstracts are much more difficult for me. I tend to be drawn to people, place, story, to humanity, to my human interaction with the world around. It’s really quite narcissistic when you think about it-as I see it, my world around me develops its meaning (at least for me) from my interaction with it. What would happen if I lost my ability to recognize shape and form as “things” or “people” and began instead to just see them as shape and form? And what meaning would I make from simple shape and form? How would that affect my photography. How would it affect yours?

Many times I share with my family an image of something I like and the question that arises almost immediately is “what is it?” We want to make meaning of things and knowing what something is helps us to discover what that meaning is. It’s not a bad thing, but it can be limiting for an artist and photographer.

Lately, as I’ve been mulling these thoughts in my head, I’ve taken to playing with an old Pentax K1000 film camera. It is a fully manual camera and lots of fun. Having to shoot manual has suddenly freed me to play with focus. You see, autofocus and our generally conceived idea that pictures of things need to be sharp almost forces us to shoot things in sharp focus-bokeh not withstanding, but still there is an area of the image (the selective focus area) that is sharp. The K1000 has helped me to see that playing with focus can help remove the idea of the “thing/person” I am photographing and pay more attention to shape and form. It is a lot of fun and leading to a whole other way of seeing images in the world, and hopefully allowing me to stretch as a photographer.

The image above was intentionally shot out of focus. I don’t know if it works for others, but it works for me. Of course, I’m biased because I know what is in the image. The image at the top was an accident and caught me by surprise when I imported it into Lightroom. At first I was going to delete it but as I looked at it I started to see the possibilities and in the end I love it for being so representational of the melee of Snow Geese I was photographing that day. It is one of the images that gives the feel of the place for me.

What about you? Do you ascribe to the sense that images are best when sharp, focused, clear in visual representation and intent. Or do you like to play with representational shapes, lines, form, blur, out of focus?

Jan

2012

Setting the Course; Hoping for Favorable Winds

Today is the day I set out some photographic goals for myself. I do so with some excitement as well as some anxiety. After all, I realize I am not fully in charge of this life and many things can happen to get me off course. I don’t want to end up 2012 looking back at this list feeling I have failed. I know that although my hopes for the year exist, the year will also look very different from what I imagine.

So why do this?

Well, quite simply put, I am distractible. Easily distractible. And I need reminding, much reminding, to focus on what I would like to achieve, who I want to be, and how I want my life to be. So this list, these goals/hopes/aspirations, are put forth with the idea that I will review them periodically and they will help me to refocus. There are also items here I long to get involved in which take some planning and foresight, so this voicing of my intention helps to pave the long road toward those items.

Where was I?

Oh, that’s right! Goals!

So here we go: I’ve arranged these in the manner suggested by Steve Simon in his wonderful book, The Passionate Photographer. If you haven’t read it, do. Making this list in this manner, with these categories, has helped them be more focused and I hope will lead to more accomplishment, and therefore more joy.

Photographic Project Goals:

Continue working on my Tierra Encatada Project (New Mexico Project)
Develop and Complete an ebook on the psychology of photography.
Create a notebook dealing with cameras.
Create a notebook dealing with life in Cafes.
Finish my baseball project (Put me in Coach)
Create a photobook based on the Dia de los Muertos Parade here in Albuquerque, NM.
Create a photobook chronicling my young family’s life with photo stories
Create 2 photo stories with NM artist’s as the subject. I have 2 ideas for subjects here.
Begin my Two Worlds Project dealing with bicultural couples.

Artistic Goals:

Partake in at least one photographic workshop
Either enter (deadline 1/20/12) or attend Review Santa Fe Critique/Review. My intent here is to learn more about what makes a good photograph, especially with regard to my own work, much of which I am often too emotionally close to in order to assess that effectively.
Take an active part in an online collaboration/feedback forum to which I belong. Once again my effort here is to help me develop a more critical eye regarding my photography and photography in general. I also enjoy helping others work toward their photographic goals and this is a way to do so.
Attend quarterly photography gallery viewings at galleries such as Verve and Photo-Eye
Read and digest at least 5 of the following books:

Develop a greater ability to tell visual stories by studying the craft through books, blogs, and producing at least 4 concentrated visual stories.

Technical Improvement Goals:

Learn how to use a handheld light meter in order to learn to better meter my film camera.
Increase my ability to use off camera flash and flash modifiers.
Learn black and white film processing-Darkroom anyone?
Update the firmware on my camera.
Learn ftp protocol for my website

Equipment Goals:

Silver Efex Pro 2 Computer Software
Portable Softbox
Umbrella & Stand
Rangefinder camera- you know, a Leica M9 or a Fujifilm x100…
An iPad, cuz I really, really want one.
Wacom Tablet.

(Note: having written this before the new year and posting it here a week or so later, I have noticed that my “Equipment” list is short and-frankly-I don’t really “need” anything on it. The first three items would be nice and would help some with my vision of some images I want, but I can manage without them. The last three goals are just wants. I have what I need in terms of stuff. What I really need is more time to work on my projects, not more equipment.)

What about you? Do you have goals, dreams, aspirations? Are there things you would like to feel you have accomplished, created, enjoyed in the coming year? What point on the compass does you heart set?

Nov

2011

Fall in Love

Going to bed last night I had a thought. One of those “slap your palm against your forehead” kind of thoughts that resonate so deeply; that “Aha!” moment; that moment of sudden realization that students of Zen seek so stoically called Satori.

I had it, last night.

I didn’t write it down.

So I’m left here to attempt to reconstruct it. Bah! (The picture above is me frantically trying to reconstruct the thought stream right before writing this post.)

“Bah!” because I also know those Satori moments are moments beyond words, and a great way to know if someone has “got it” is that they are unable to explain what it is they “got”. It’s as if it is an intrinsic knowing-a feeling-not a thought. So to try to distill it down to a thought, a series of words, doesn’t seem to do it justice.

But here I go:

From what I have learned recently, artists view art as a verb. Consumers of art view art as a noun-a thing. To artists-those that make art- art is a verb. It is an action. It is the act of creation. And to be an artist means to be a creator-continually creating. (I didn’t come up with this on my own, mind you. I got it from Art and Fear, a great little book about artists their challenges.)

As such, for an artist to be artistic they need to focus on doing the work. Without the doing, without the act of creating and doing the work, the artist isn’t an artist. In fact, studies have shown that those that are the most prolific at creating art are also the ones that create the best art. Holding out until the right time to create the masterpiece doesn’t really work; creating lots of work births the masterpiece. That is how the process works.

But there is a challenge: the artist’s vision stays one step ahead of the artist’s skill and this can lead to a perpetual dissatisfaction with the work. After all, if you never quite have the skill to fully create what you envision, you won’t ever be truly satisfied. Many fall prey to this challenge and drop out of artistic endeavors. Best to focus on continually creating-Do the work.

It’s funny this thing called an artistic life: we get into it because we want to have done something creative we can be proud of-we imagine being proud of ourselves to have produced good work. It just doesn’t really work like that. We probably won’t be satisfied with it, despite any accolades we might receive from our peers or consumers of our art. So best to focus on the creating.

So then, the photograph doesn’t matter really. It is the act of photographing that matters and will, with enough work, create good photographs. But we’ll be dissatisfied, so best to keep photographing.

Do you see where this is going? Sure, we need to develop a critical eye, edit well, sequence well, expose well, pan well, choose depth of field well, process well, all that jazz. But we have to learn to love the act of creation; we have to love making photographs!!!

There are some that advocate forgetting about the gear and loving the photograph. That the primacy of photography is the photograph. I don’t disagree with them, but I’ve spent many an evening falling asleep wondering why people love their gear so much. And I am beginning to realize that the love of the gear is an integral part of the process. We have to love making photographs and loving the gear is part of that. If I hate my gear I am not going to make pictures, simple as that. But if I love my gear, if I am excited about it, well….that is another story.

So that is my attempt at reconstructing a thought that came to me during that in between space between wakeful reality and dream reality. What are your thoughts?

Nov

2011

On Being Vulnerable in the Creative Process

I watched a TED.com video a while ago. It was recommended by David duChemin in an article when he was talking about how to stop trying to sell through social media and rather attempt to connect with others. I usually try to follow David’s recommendations because, to me, he feels really connected. He feels connected to his readership and students; he feels connected to the photographic world at large through his social media outlets; he feels connected to the people he photographs for NGO organizations. But mostly I imagine him to be connected with himself, his life, and how life is.

Why do I imagine this? Well, it comes from something Brene Brown mentioned in that TED.com talk (see below for the embeded video). During her talk she mentioned that joy, happiness, contentment, comes from feeling connected with others; feeling as if we matter to another; that we belong and have a place in the world. And, she makes the point that to feel connected with others and with ourselves we need to be able to tolerate being vulnerable.

Now, vulnerability, as I see it, is tied to some very strong emotions, the strongest among them being fear, but also involving anxiety and shame. These are challenging emotions for many and our mental health hospitals and counseling offices are filled with people attempting to come to terms with them. (I know, my day job is in the mental health field and I deal with these emotions in others and in myself on a daily basis.)

What does all this have to do with the creative process? Well, that also comes from something Brene Brown mentioned in the video: Life is messy. Life does not go according to plan; others fail to live up to our expectations; the world betrays us at times; things are unfair; we are crippled by our own fears and doubts. Often times life just lines up according to its own-maddening-set of rules and we are often left feeling as if we weren’t given a playbook-let alone a rule book. As a result, living, and being creative, requires a large measure of courage. Courage to face our creative process in all its messiness. Courage to try things that don’t seem easy and have a high failure rate. We require the courage to be vulnerable in the face of those that would criticize our work and our efforts; the courage to dive into a creative endeavor without the promise of success at any step along the way.

And yet it is necessary, this thing called vulnerability. It is a necessary step in the creative process; it is a necessary step in connecting with others; and it is a necessary step in coming to terms with living this human life contentedly, happily, joyfully. It is a necessary part of the process in creating anything really: from new business venture to creative scrapbook, from professional power-point presentation to your wedding photobook. We throw ourselves headlong into the abyss of the unknown future with little more than a blind faith that we will be alright in the end. This is vulnerability and we are swimming in a sea of it called living. We do not create anything new by playing it safe.

So, what do you want to create? One image? A dozen? A series? A book? A canvas? An ebook perhaps? Some stock images? Do you want to create a photographic business? Do you want to create a notebook to give to others? Or perhaps a calendar? All of these involve risk: the risk of being rejected, hurt, embarrassed. All of these can also include the risk of being successful. And yet, there it is. That is what we must face.

Oct

2011

Looking and Seeing

Quite often as I read books, articles, and ebooks that attempt to teach me some of the art of photography I come across a section that attempts to give me some ideas on how to learn to “see” better. The instruction is well meaning and often helpful but something about it usually leaves me a bit flat. For the longest time I could not discover what about it was leaving me feeling this way. Then, after watching this interview by master interviewer Charlie Rose of master photographer Henri Cartier-Bresson, something started to slowly dawn on me.

You see, Cartier-Bresson attempted to communicate to Charlie Rose a basic tenet of his method. Granted, he could have done better and Charlie could have listened better, but it is in there. Repeatedly the Frenchman stated the key was to stay present, sensitive, and receptive.

He was attempting to describe to Charlie what Charlie was not being at the moment: present, sensitive, and receptive. When we are in this state the world presents itself to us. We don’t have to go seek it. It is a state of mindfulness that stays open, saying “yes, yes, yes” to that which is presented to it. It is a very subtle difference but one that I think makes a crucial difference in how images are made

There is a difference between “looking” and “seeing” and that difference is one of activity and intention. Looking is active. It is a search. By looking we are actively searching, attuning our eyes to the light and seeking. We are going into our environment to come in contact with something, or someone, and photograph them. Seeing, in the way that Cartier-Bresson was doing it, is not active; it is receptive. He is open and waiting, staying present to the moment. The only action comes when he presses the shutter release button. It is a meditative state, I believe. I think Cartier-Bresson meditated his way through the creation of the photograph.

This is why, I believe, he is so resistant in this interview or take credit for the images. He didn’t do anything; he not responsible. He simply prepared the environment, both internal (by preparing his mind to be receptive) and external (by placing himself in optimal environments) and remained receptive and responsive. Then all that was left to do was obey the muse a press the button when she instructed him to.

So, while all those exercises in the instructive books I read will teach me to look really well and will be helpful in increasing my ability to notice, in the end I will need to learn to be present, sensitive, and receptive. Only through this will I be ready to receive the photograph.

Sep

2011

Creating Mood

I’ve been playing with storytelling recently. I’ve found a number of photographers that I admire that all seem to be telling visual stories with their photography. I suppose they would be labelled as “documentary photographers” and dismissed by some who make more “artistic” statements with their photography, but I find their work to be highly artistic. I am also finding it to be incredibly challenging to do.

One of the things I’m really starting to pay attention to is mood in an image. While a lot of that is created through color tones and subject matter I was especially struck by the huge mood differences that a shift in a subject’s body language can create. As an example I thought I would share these two images I shot recently of my wife and son in our dining room. I am standing outside the house looking in.

Which one do you like? Do you have a sense of why you like that image more than the other. Can you identify a particular mood or emotion that either of these images invokes in you? And can you relate that mood or emotion to why you liked the image more or less than the other?

image 1

image 2

Sep

2011

New Craft & Vision eBook: The Inspired Eye, Vol. 3

David duChemin has been a tear these past three years or so. For a man who has chosen a visual medium as his profession he has also proven to be quite the writer and penning 4 print books and numerous ebooks as well as regular posts on his blog, www.pixelatedimage.com. Today he release the third and final ebook in his “The Inspired Eye” ebooks, The Inspired Eye, Vol. 3

Ever since coming across a copy of “Within The Frame” in my favorite local-and now closed(!)-Borders book store I have always enjoyed David’s writing. He writes about matters close to my heart and does so with eloquence and humor-though he would spell that “humour.” He tends to focus not on the “how to” of photography but rather on the “why” of photography. This book, and this series, focus on creativity: it’s joys and it’s challenges.

Having ridden some creative highs in the past few years, experienced the challenges of creativity overflow (too much going out with not enough coming in), as well as a personal low through physical injuries, surgery and months of rehab, David knows about the rewards and challenges of the creative life. And he pours it into this book.

Filled with humor, anecdotes, quotations, images shot mostly on his iPhone, and sound, soulful advice and direction, this book encourages us to take action on our creative path and warns against pitfalls along the way. Drawing from his own personal experience as well as the wisdom of creative people from history David weaves a wonderful read with a motivating and encouraging voice. I recommend it.

Special Sale:

you can get The Inspired Eye 3 for $5, or $4 if you use coupon code EYETHREE4 before Saturday, September 24 at 11:59pm (PST). As always during these launch discounts, you can get 5 for the price of 4, this time the discount code is EYETHREE20.

You can also get the entire The Inspired Eye bundle for $12. Volumes 1 & 2 have new covers but the content remains unchanged. Just visit the Craft & Vision store.

Sep

2011

On The Hunt (on not turning your photographic subject into prey)

I can’t help but keep noticing the language we photographers like use when describing photographing: shoot, shot, capture, get, take. Sounds a little violent, doesn’t it? With this crowd I feel a bit like a hunter.

I think it comes from a mindset that the world is out there and I need to go get it, take it, capture it, shoot it. It is a predatory mindset. I understand it and I know it is part of the nature of photography. I also think we need to be careful. Predatory mindsets are singularly focused and tend to dehumanize and devalue its prey (whether human, animal, vegetable, or other). Predatory mindsets tend to decrease the respect felt for the object. In photography, as in hunting, the value the subject becomes decreased to only the value that the photographer gives it, not its inherent value, or the value to itself. I know this is not what most photographers intend, but it happens. A lot.

Eli Reinholdsten’s recent post about photographing alone together reminded me of this dilemma. Have you ever been out on a photographic excursion (notice I resisted the urge to write “out on a shoot…” 😉 with other photographers and you find someone interesting to photograph. You ask them if you can and they agree. Then suddenly 5 people are shooting over your shoulder like paparazzi. They are of course paying you a compliment on your sharp eye that discovered such a wonderful subject, and they are trying to get “their” shot at the expense of you and your subject’s agreement. I know I’ve been guilty of this as much as I’ve had it happen to me.

The result often is a startled subject and less than optimal photographs. In that moment of frenzied ~~shooti~~… er, photographing, the subject has been reduced down to an object, the person and their contract with the original photographer has not been respected, and the original photographer’s effort and intent has been passed over. In that moment the quarry was hunted without so much as an afterthought.

I wonder if we could, collectively, begin to speak (and think) of photography in a more collaborative way? Less shooting, taking, and capturing, and more making, co-creating, representing. What if we looked upon photography as a gift to the subject rather than to ourselves and the world.

To get an idea of this put yourself in front of the camera. Notice how you feel. Notice how you are treated, interacted with, respected (or not.) It can be a very subtle thing, but it will infuse the photograph with your soul, or not. That will depend how safe you feel in front of the photographer’s lens. And that depends to what degree you feel like prey.