Monochrome

Aug

2012

“There was fog!”: images from Port Townsend, Washington

If you read my previous blog post you’ll be aware that I am spending some time thinking about the conversations about art and photography while there. I am also giving time for my thoughts to incubate. I think I know where things are heading for me photographically (at least generally), but part of the fun of this journey are the individual adventures along the way.

I find it great fun to make images. Often I find myself giggling as I press the shutter release button. I had that experience while I Port Townsend, which was fortuitous because there was not much time for photographing.

I chose to take a hotel room off-site from the location for the Artist’s Round Table. While mostly for financial reasons, it is quite in my character to recuse myself for some time each day and so I chuckled to myself as I hiked the mile back to my room at the Tides Inn, location of the “Officer and a Gentleman” movie featuring Richard Gere and Debra Winger. After about 5 hours of sleep each night I loaded my backpack with my notebooks, layered clothes, rain gear, cameras, etc. and retraced my steps in the morning.

On one particular morning, I took a detour.

As I stepped out of my room and casually turned my head to the right to take in the water lapping at the shore just 15 feet from my door I spotted the rocky beach, the water, and….. fog!

Fog!!

Now, you have to understand something. I live in the desert. And not just a desert; I live in a high desert. My home sits at a mile elevation. From the front window of my house I can gaze at the 10,700 foot peak of the Sandia Mountains that border the eastern edge of the city. We can hike to the peak of that mountain and view 100 miles in any direction and see….brown! It is dry here. Very dry! So dry we don’t used refrigerated air conditioning in the summer. We use water based evaporative cooling. It is amazing what forced humidified air can do for a house in such a dry climate!

I love it here, but we don’t, ever, get…..fog. No moisture in the air means no fog. Period. No arguments.

And so, I was standing on the front stoop of my hotel room and I had a conundrum. In front of me was beautiful, monochromatic, maritime, misty moisture. To my left and 3/4 of a mile away two fellow workshop participants were expecting me for breakfast. I didn’t have their phone numbers. I was going to be late.

The following images were made that morning as I stepped down onto the rocky beach in the fog and the misty rain and let myself be guided away from a hot cup of excellent coffee, a yummy skillet breakfast, and really good company toward moisture, clam diggers, and a wonderfully beautiful morning.

When I arrived at the workshop, late, that morning I felt badly I had kept others waiting and put the discussion behind schedule. It wasn’t really quite fair. But, as I explained to the participants, “there was fog!”

I’m not quite sure they fully understood.

By the way, for those of you into photography gear, one of the images above was made with a Leica M3 (graciously on loan to me by Artist Round Table leader, Ray Ketcham) and Kodak CN400 Black and White film. Can you tell which one?

Jan

2012

Close to Home And The Birth Of A Project

Recently I posted a review of my goals from 2011 and found that I had ticked off most of them. Great. I got to feel a momentary sense of pride of accomplishment. But something was lacking a bit. At first I couldn’t recognize what it was but eventually, as I thought about it more, I came to realize that my checklist of accomplished goals for the last year failed to tell the fuller story of my photographic year. You see, I accomplished more than just my checklist. I learned a lot by surprise along the way.

Yes, I was focused on my goals, but not so much that I failed to pay attention to other opportunities which presented themselves along the way. Not only did my skills as a photographer grow, but my focus, intention, and attention all grew as well.

You see, for a long time my focus in photography was what is “out there”, outside of me and outside of my community. I wanted to photograph what was exotic, foreign, new, distant. My focus was on distant lands, distant ideas. But then I read Close to Home by Stuart Sipahigil (listed here on the Craft & Vision website.)

Close to Home has become a highly regarded and highly quoted book in the past year. In it Stuart turns his attention to a challenge many-if not most-amateur photographers have: making compelling images out of their “ordinary lives”-close to home. People loved it! From what I understand it is one of the bestselling titles from Craft and Vision this past year, and rightly so.

But Stuart’s book influenced me in a slightly different way. I wasn’t just looking for a way to make compelling images close to home, I was looking for a direction for my photography as a whole. I was searching for meaning in my photography. I was becoming less content making singular images of pretty stuff. I was wanting my photography to mean something more-if not to others, then to myself. And as I sat and thought about what I wanted to do with my photography I realized I was limited by my current life situation.

My young family and job prevent me from traveling to distant lands (Mexico, Vietnam, Thailand, Peru) to photograph exotic people in exotic locales. I am pretty firmly planted in New Mexico-a land I’ve inhabited for 16 years and feel pretty familiar with. But then, as I thought more about what Stuart was encouraging in his book I started to ask myself what I could photograph-what I would be excited to photograph-near home? And suddenly I realized, “holy cow, I live in NEW MEXICO!!!” This land is filled with the exotic, the new, the interesting, the fascinating, the joyful, the sorrowful, the pain, the hardship, the beauty, the sky, the sun, the mountains, the dust, the tumbleweeds, the cacti, the outdoors, the drugs, the mix of cultures…..well, you get it, right? This land is fascinating and enchanting and filled with wondrous stories of people and cultures and art and music and life!

And out of this was born the idea of my Tierra Encantada Project as well as my direction, purpose, meaning, and excitement-to try to tell the story of New Mexico as I know it. To try to show you, the viewer and reader, what this land is like and about. To try to point you toward why this is an enchanting place.

So, if you haven’t read Stuart’s book, Close to Home, do so! If you have read it, make a point to read it again. It is not a long book, but its depth is palpable. And I have heard from a small bird that he is working on another book due out possibly this Spring; I can’t wait!

Note: Those of you involved in the photography scene may be aware that my new friend and Blurb photographer at large Daniel Milnor (aka Smogranch) is also working on a very similar project. His work is absolutely fantastic and if you haven’t seen it go follow his tumblr blog where he is being completely transparent about the project’s process and progress for the sake of his subjects-people who would not otherwise see the results of their portraits. Also check out this video of him at work here in NM. He and I met recently and shared ideas on our projects. It is great fun to watch how he approaches the same subjects and what he comes away with. At first I was concerned I would be repeating what he’s already doing, but he comes from outside the state and sees things in a much different way than I do. That combined with his mega years of experience, his photography education, his outgoing nature, and the fact that he tends to shoot with a Leica means his work is going to look wayyyyyy different from mine. Can you tell I’m a fan? Still, I hesitated when he began to make his project public until I realized I could not deny the push inside that drives me to work on this project.

All of these images were made after meeting with Daniel in Santa Fe with my manual film camera, a Pentax K1000. All except the second-that was shot in my driveway. Talk about close to home!

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?

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.

Oct

2011

“Aha!” Moment: On Using Manual Exposure Mode To Create Drama

Ever have one of those moments when a realization just hits you and you want to slap your forehead in one of those “NOW I get it!” moments? I just had one.

Ever have that feeling just moments after that “Aha Moment” where you feel a bit silly for taking so long to “get it?” I just had one of those too.

I guess part of the fun of photography is that there is so much to it that the learning just continues and continues. Sure we can get really frustrated during this lengthy process, but bored? No, not me. And hopefully not you either.

So, what did I learn? Well, I learned about the benefit of using manual exposure to create dramatic effect in images. It has been a long slow process getting to this point but I believe it is finally beginning to sink in, slowly.

Let me walk you through my process so that you follow what a significant, yet simple, realization this is. And also one that shifts a paradigm for me in terms of thinking about making, taking, creating images.

1) When I first started to explore photography seriously a friend suggested I shoot in Manual Mode, so I did. For those of you who aren’t familiar with Manual Mode it is the mode where the photographer makes all the exposure decisions in making the image. The photographer (me!) chooses the shutter speed and aperture. By contrast, the Full Auto mode of Program Auto, and the semi-auto modes of Shutter Speed Priority and Aperture Priority, allow the camera to make its bazzilion calculations to determine the “correct” exposure and then set the settings automatically to match that exposure. The problem with how I started using Manual Mode is that I depended 100% on the light meter reading in camera to determine exposure. Sure, I might increase or decrease the exposure by 1/3 of a stop for one reason or another, but mostly I was wildly spinning the dials to match the cameras idea of a “correct exposure.” It was fun and I felt all pro, but I missed a lot of shots because I was busing messing with the dials. So I began to wonder why I was using the camera this way.

2) So I switched to Aperture Priority. In this mode I chose the aperture and the camera did its bazillion calculations to determine “correct exposure” and then set the shutter speed automatically to achieve this exposure. Great. Now I was controlling some of the aesthetics of the image (namely depth of field-or the area that is in or out of focus). Sometimes I switched to Shutter Speed Priority where I chose the shutter speed and the camera did its bazillion calculations and set an aperture to create “correct exposure” but 95% of the time I shot Aperture Priority. Sure, sometimes I fiddled with Exposure Compensation but, you know, just 1/3 or 2/3 of a stop over or under exposed based on whether my subject was backlit or not.

3) Then one day I was shooting the Dia de los Muertos parade here in Albuquerque and the light was waning in the evening. Soon it was dark and so out came my flash. I popped it on the camera (gasp!), left the aperture right where it was (wide. open.) and set the flash on auto-through-the-lens-trust-me-I’m-Nikon-and-I-won’t-let-you-down, and tried to photograph a lovely person who had volunteered to be photographed. Kablooey!!! I nuked them into next week. My friend Marc, the camera whisperer, took pity on the poor soul in front of me and took the minute or two she was taking to regain her vision to help me out. “What are you set on?” he asked. “Oh, no, no, no. Set your camera to manual, f8, 1/250th. Start there and dial it in. Always set your camera to manual and start there or else the camera will try to make the black of the evening into middle grey and everything will be over-exposed.” “Oh.” I said. So I tried to burn that advice into my memory and it has helped. It’s not the only way to do things with the flash, I know, but it was a good learning for me. And I did finally end up with the image to the right.

4) Then this spring I had the opportunity to take Joe McNally and Dave Hobby‘s Flashbus Tour workshop and I was struck by the direction that Dave Hobby takes with his flash photography. His first bit of advice was 1) set your ambient exposure in manual and 2) layer your (strobe) light on top of that. “Hey, wait!” I thought, “there is that manual thing again.” What struck me most was that he often stops down the ambient light by 1 or 2 stops, leaving a little light in there, and then adds light with his strobes. And here was the key piece, he was not listening to what his camera is saying is a “correct exposure.” He does a quick peek at what the camera thinks is good, stops the exposure down 1-2 stops with his shutter speed, and then begins to add light with his strobes.

5) And slowly, slowly, slowly that awareness that we need to sometimes NOT listen to our camera’s idea of a “correct exposure” has begun to sink in. And I finally “got it” today when I saw this image by Gael Turine. Had the photographer not been shooting in Manual Mode and not chosen to “underexpose” the image (or had he followed a light meter’s direction on what is a “correct exposure”) then lots of what we see as black would have been exposed to make it look middle grey, and the lighter parts of the image would have been overexposed to the point of having no texture, making the image look completely different and less interesting.

And so there is my “Aha!” moment. Simple, but counter-intuitive if you’ve come to trust the light meter in camera to determine exposure. Time perhaps to throw most of that direction aside and play with stopping the exposure down or up. Time to start to play outside the limits of 1 stop over or under exposed and see what fun there is to have. (I actually wrote this article before I shot the images for my previous post on the Balloon Fiesta. All of the black and white nighttime images in that post were “underexposed” by about 2 stops.)

Note: the image at the top of my son daydreaming during his dinner was shot in natural light and I stopped the exposure down 2 full stops from what the TTL light meter told me was a “correct exposure.” Why not compare the two exposures below. The top image is stopped down 2 stops from what the camera’s light meter thinks is the “correct exposure” (bottom image).

Oct

2011

Picture Package (Balloon Fiesta)

As some of you may have notice I’ve taken a turn toward documentary photography as of late. I really like individual photographs and their power, but there is something in trying to tell a story in a series of images that really captures my creative imagination-and challenges me to no end!

I that vein I’ve really been captured by the idea of “Picture Packages”, the idea that Daniel Milnor (aka Smogranch) put forth in this post. Basically, he tries to capture a short series of images that can stand on their own as well as tell a story as a group. Also inspired by Daniel’s willingness to make the process of his latest project (New Mexico) open and transparent by posting his images, thoughts, audio and video on tumblr, I thought I might share my latest efforts at creating a series. Below is a series of images I shot at the Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta yesterday (Sunday) morning.

I went into the Balloon Fiesta Park with a set of ideas that I wanted to capture and that really drove my intention. Along the way I discovered some other opportunities that presented themselves and fit well into my idea. Still other pictures seemed to fit in as I was looking through the day’s images later in the evening. I’ve more to shoot and more to share to make this story more complete, but I’m really happy with the results. I hope you like the images as well.

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

Daily Practice

Submit to a daily practice. Keep knocking and the joy inside will eventually open a window. -Rumi

Things have been busy here in monkdom. I know many of us have busy lives; it is one of the things that tends to define us as Americans, it seems, and I notice it often as a casual yet telling response to a friendly greeting in my parts. “What you been up to?” the greeter asks. “Oh, not much. Busy, busy…”

Not many more details are given and none more are requested, as if to say “well, if you won’t volunteer it, or don’t remember it, then it’s not that important to me.”

Well, here, we’ve been busy, busy. And I’m gonna tell you about it, mostly because I’m enthused about it and also because all this business is separating the wheat from the chaff for me and the role of photography in my life.

The quote above is a quick little ditty that has deep meaning for those spiritually oriented, but it also speaks true of those of us in the quest for that satisfying artistic expression: our voice. “Submit to a daily practice and have faith” that quote seems to say. Work daily, practice daily, be mindful, daily and what you seek or what you need will somehow, somewhere, present itself.

It is a challenging thing to do because submitting to this daily practice is supposed to challenge you. It is supposed to make you question what you are doing and why you are doing it. It is supposed to take you right to the edge of the limits of what you know about your art (and even perhaps yourself) and make you peer, seriously peer, over the edge at “what if?”

For me this has been coming through stress, challenging work, lack of sleep, deadlines, limits, and illness. Life has been full, my responsibilities feeling so vast, that there seemed to not be room for photography in it. I actually asked myself if I should stop for now; if I was trying to do too much.

I haven’t fully answered that question yet but I find myself coming through it all with greater clarity and with a realization that despite all the challenges some wonderful things have taken place throughout it all. I was recently paid to photograph a Baptism and was quite pleased with the result; I’ve had a photographic series published at Rear Curtain (the first and hopefully not the last); I’ve started lightening my gear bag as I wander and travel with wonderful results and more enjoyable trips; I’ve completed a new photobook I am excited about and awaiting the proof with anticipation; I’ve edited down a huge series to 6 images that I think tell a story with greater impact; I’ve begun to expose myself to varying art forms with greater enthusiasm and energy.

This past Saturday I convinced my family to take a drive to Santa Fe and had the chance to visit the Verve Photography Gallery there. It is a wonderful place with a welcome and accommodating staff and some of the most astounding photography gracing the walls. My purpose there was more directed than just taking in the prints displayed. I was after a book, or books, by Norman Mauskopf. Ever since Daniel Milnor (aka. Smogranch) had mentioned Mauskopf in a blog post I’d wanted to see his stuff. Both Milnor and Mauskopf are undertaking or have undertaken projects close to my heart: Milnor is engaged in a lengthy project on New Mexico and Mauskopf has completed fantastic works on horse racing, rodeo, and the Latino descendants of Spanish settlers in Northern New Mexico. All of these projects rank in the “holy crap” level of difficulty.

These two are in the stratosphere of documentary photography and noticing my attraction to their work has made me realize the pull I feel in my photography. What that is exactly still remains to be seen-that will require more practice-but the idea and the way has begun to take form in the fog.

By the way, Mauskopf is teaching a visual storytelling workshop in Santa Fe this October through Santa Fe Photographic Workshops and Daniel Milnor is leading one in Peru.

Aug

2011

Carry Your Crappy Camera

I’ve been thinking about this post for a while. Regular readers here will be aware that I’ve decided to focus on the craft of photography for a while rather than on the gear. The plan is to learn the skills, the vision, the art, the mystery, the feel of making photographs that please me and I’ve found that new or more gear doesn’t always accomplish that for me. And so, I’ve been thinking a lot about how I think about photography.

Thinking about thinking; it is a strange and wondrous exercise.

You see, I love shooting with my Nikon D300. I paid a good sum of money for it. I love the feel of it. I love how I can change settings quickly and intuitively through the myriad of buttons on the outside of the camera body. It feels good in my hands. You know, I’m just into this camera.

Lately though, I’ve taken to shooting with a used Nikon D80 I bought. At first it was just for novelty but I had bought this camera for a couple of reasons: first, I felt I needed a backup camera body; second, I needed something my wife could put on “Auto” and make a nice picture quickly; third, I needed a camera that would keep my interest while shooting on vacation that she could also use easily; fourth, I needed something I didn’t value quite as much as my D300 because I have two little boys who tend to dump sand on me, jump on me, and splash water on me (decidedly non camera-friendly occurrences.) So the D80 entered the stable.

But after a while I noticed something about how I thought about this backup D80 camera: I didn’t care about it as much. Now, normally that would make me want to shoot with it less. But I found myself shooting with it more. Strange. So I started that thinking about thinking thing again. Why?

Well, I’m more willing to take risks with the D80. I’m more willing to get it close to water and I’m more willing to get it down near sand. I’m more willing to use it in precarious situations and I’m more willing to hand it over to someone else.

The image above is an example of what I’m talking about. My extended family and I were walking in a wood in western Maryland while attending a family reunion and my 3 year old son was dragging behind (short legs and all that.) My 18 year old nephew hung back with me and at one point, looking back toward my son he said, “this would make a cool shot, Uncle Brian. The trees above and Sebastian below.” He gestured with his hand that he was visualizing something. I didn’t even look back to see what he was showing me- I just handed him my D80. “You see it; you shoot it.” I told him. And he did.

It turns out it is one of my favorite images from that reunion. And I didn’t take it. But it wouldn’t have been made had I been carrying that D300-I covet it too much and probably wouldn’t have handed it over so freely. And that got me thinking. 🙂

When we travel to foreign countries and are wanting to make portraits of people, wouldn’t it be nice to occasionally hand over the camera and let our subjects make a picture of us? Or have their family member or friend make a picture of us and our kind and generous subject together, to remember the occasion? Maybe we could even send them a copy of the picture or even print one right there with our Pogo printer so they could have a memento and stories to tell? It would be a great way to break the ice; a great way to engage with our subject; a great way to build a bond. Sure, perhaps occasionally a camera could get stolen. That’s what insurance is for. But it also wouldn’t be your D300.

Now, I’m aware that a D80 is not a “crappy” camera to most. But it is my cheaper and older camera-I bought it used, for not a lot of money, so it is more dispensable to me. What is your older camera that you might be willing to take greater risks with? How about breaking it out and carrying it with you and get those photographs you might have been passing up for fear of damaging your gear?

P.S: Stay tuned for a fun little announcement form me within the next few days as well.

Jun

2011

Cracked: the Challenge of Too Much Creativity

I don’t know. Not many weeks ago I was wallowing in self pity as I waded through the morass of Resistance; no mojo, no drive, no direction. Motivation wasn’t even waxing and waning; it was simply waning. Today I find myself on the flip side of that coin.

And it’s not much better, really.

Oh, I know. Don’t get me wrong. If I were back in the morass I would be praying for the challenges I am facing at the moment. I might just have actually done so back then. I don’t remember. I was lost.

But today I struggle with a different “problem.” Too much motivation. Too many projects. Too many ideas. I feel pulled in too many directions photographically. I’m finishing up a project for my brother; I’m putting finishing touches on a photobook for my family (it is nearly a year overdue and I’ve another due in August!); I’ve begun a project based on my nephew’s high school baseball games; and this spurred me to start another project that I’m keeping quiet at the moment in order to experiment with working through an entire project without outside input.

So, I feel torn, pulled, distracted. Too many irons in the fire. It feels like the opposite of “too many cooks spoil the broth.” It’s more that there are too many pots going simultaneously on the stove so that I cannot concentrate effectively on getting one right.

Finally, however, I recognized my “problem” and pushed through delivering the proofs for my brother’s pictures. Now I can focus on getting that photobook done for my family. But wait, I have a really great idea….