Creativity

Mar

2011

Gallery Hangings and the Benefits of Setting Goals.

In the effort to continue with meeting my photographic goals for the year I am hanging two prints in a gallery show this evening. I am very excited, for two reasons.

First, I am excited for the show. I have hung a few prints in shows before but my effort in them was halfway at best and I didn’t really put too much into them. This time I am attempting to do things right and I am very proud of the prints I am hanging. I am also excited for the show as there looks to be a lot of really good work being hung. I always like to see what my peers are doing; it helps to keep me motivated as well as show me some possibilities photographically that I had not considered. I just love that.

Secondly, I am happy to be moving forward at achieving my goals. It means I am taking action, and action is often the part where artists get hung up. We have great ideas, we creatives, but we cannot simply consider ourselves the “idea person.” We don’t have that luxury, at least not artists at my level; my “assistant” is two years old and not yet to be trusted with carrying through on my artistic wishes. No, we creatives must be both “idea person” as well as “action taker.”

The challenge for me is refining the sheer multitude of ideas down to executable actions in order to see these so-called great ideas materialize. The challenge is in following through on one idea-any idea. And so, earlier this year I set a series of goals in this post and am happy to report they are well on their way to being accomplished.

That was the point and it is working! So far I’ve completed one of the three Blurb books I had planned; I am hanging 2 of the 3 prints I’ve committed to hanging in galleries; I have scheduled a photo project for someone else (I’m shooting my brother’s factory again, this time better I hope); I am helping my neighbor, a writer, build her website and sell ebooks thereby helping another artist; I have read a book on black and white photography and am shooting and “seeing” more in black and white; I’m holding steady on my blog posts and writing and thinking about photography; and I have lost 3 of the 10 pounds I would like to shed. So, for the 2 months since I set the goals I feel I am well on my way and I can thank the goal setting for plotting my course and motivating me to action.

How about you? Have you set goals for the year? How are you doing at them? I would love to hear both what you are planning and what you are working on.

The Gallery Opening is happening tonight, March 4th 2011 at The Printmaker’s Studio at 425 San Mateo Blvd. in Albuquerque from 5-9pm. The show will hang for 6 weeks until mid April. I hope you can make it either this evening or sometime during the show. For those of you out of town I have hung the picture of the hats at the top of this post as well as the image shown below.

Feb

2011

Pluggin’ on

I love photography. Can you tell? I love looking at photographs; I love reading about photography, both theory and technique (well, more theory than technique, but I like technique too); I love making photographs, from visualizing an image to pressing the shutter release button, to seeing the image on my computer, to actively processing it, to seeing the final rendition both on screen and in print. I find it fun. I find it moving. I also find it heart wrenchingly, gut-wrenchingly, pull-my-hair out frustrating at times.

You see, I know that visual arts are an emotional language. They are pre-verbal for me. I respond to images with feelings. Words about the image, descriptions of the image, or words to describe how I feel about he image come later. Sometimes much later. Sometimes not at all. So I feel my way through photographs, both others’ and my own. And this can be a minefield as much as a pleasure garden, especially when it comes to my own photography.

(However, before I risk sounding like a whiny spoiled brat, let me say that all this frustrated navel-gazing has a purpose and positive outcome. Read on.)

Sometimes in my self-indulgent photo viewing and making extravaganza I get stumped! It can be overwhelming to sift through so many images out there as well as sift through many opinions as well. And then, sometimes overnight, I get the “blahs!”

You know, blah about everything out there, blah about my work, blah about the available subject matter, blah about my gear, blah about my skills. Just blah. Blah, blah, blah.

But then, if we hang in there long enough, something happens. I don’t know what it is, or how it works, but something akin to divine inspiration occurs. You know the feeling, like when sunlight finally peeks and eeks its way through an overcast, chilly, moody day; something switches. The muse talks, sings, shows herself. Whatever it is and however it works, it just happens. It just does. And then everything changes and blahs turn to “….whoa, wait, something is happening here.”

The above image represents that moment for me. I don’t know if you like it. I don’t even know if it is any good. But I do know I like it. I do know I am moved by it. And I do know I arrived at it by pluggin’ on. By continuing in the face of the blahs. It was a throw-away, that image. Shot while my son played in the dirt under the bell at my feet, distracting me, begging attention from me as 2 year olds will and I just shot it, quickly, without too much thought, because it was part of pluggin’ on.

How do you work through the “blahs?” I’m aware there are as many ways to deal with this syndrome as there are active, creative people and would love to hear what works for you.

Feel free to click on the image to see it “on black.” I think it looks much better presented that way.

Feb

2011

Of Love and Other Demons

Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.
~Rumi

I swiped the above quote from friend’s Facebook post on this Valentine’s Day. It seemed appropriate to think of love in a way that is out of the ordinary for how we, and by this I mean me and perhaps you, think about love. I happen to enjoy Rumi quite a bit, especially because his writing has the habit of shaking up my perception and my perspective–good things to have happen to a photographer.

This quote, and Rumi’s ability, got me thinking: if we put up barriers to that which we often are seeking (Love), what kind of barriers have we placed in the way of our creative potential?

Sometimes it is helpful to write down, to make a list, of those negative things we believe about ourselves. Be it, “I’m not good enough,” or “I’m just an average artist,” or, “I’m just an amateur photographer,” and then to write down the opposite in an attempt to eliminate the negative belief. Whatever you might discover about your negative beliefs, about your creative self, the chances are you are mistaken. Creativity spills from each of our lives much the way flowers creatively express their inevitability.

To be creative we must be much like the flower in its expression. That is to say we must do so simply because it is what we must do; we need not, indeed perhaps must not, await another’s praise in our effort or copy what others have done before. Gavin Gough, professional travel photographer, explains and encourages this beautifully in his post today entitled “Setting Sail on Your Own Course.”

So on this Valentine’s Day, day of love and friendship, as you seek to eliminate the barriers you have placed in love’s way, why not also strive to identify and eliminate the barriers you may have placed in the way of your creativity. I imagine–no, I am sure–that both love and creativity will flow more freely from you as a result.

Jan

2011

100 Strangers: Artist is a Foreign Land, Part 2

The other day I wrote a blog post about continuing with my 100 Strangers Project, a project designed to get me over my fear asking strangers if I can photograph them. Today’s post is a continuation of that effort and it feels fitting that this “stranger” was photographed just minutes after I finished photographing Hernan. Meet Marco Pat Uh:

Marco is quite the amazing artist. He was set up on the pedestrian avenue in Playa del Carmen selling his custom painted tiles, trivets, and refrigerator magnets. What drew me, however, was his method of painting. He was using his fingernail. The one on his pinkie finger. And he was fast at it.

Emboldened by my success carrying on a conversation with Hernan 5 minutes earlier I approached Marco, explained my project, and expressed an interest in photographing him while working. A true Yucatecan, he was humble and sweet and obliged gently. I felt I was free to shoot as much as I would have liked but I didn’t want to take advantage of his hospitality and so I made 4 or 5 images before buying one of his magnets (the one he is painting in the image above.)

Below are a few more of the photographs I made of him and his work:

Jan

2011

My Artistic Goals for 2011

photo courtesy of Angela J. Miller

It is a new year, this 2011, and transitions such as the new year are a natural time during which to reassess and plan for the future. Many people at this time make resolutions. I like to do something similar in that I like to create goals for myself.

You see, my training in psychology has helped me understand it is more beneficial to move toward something one might want than to resist something one might not want. Resolutions are fine, but without goals, concrete goals, they are much more challenging to achieve. Sometimes a simple shift in semantics is all that is needed: “by July 31 I will be smoke free” rather than “I want to stop smoking.” The former denotes a movement toward a new state of being; the latter denotes a resistance toward a current behavior.” Resistance creates stress; movement has energy, life, and a sense of possibility. With this in mind I have created a list of achievable goals for this photographic year as well as the reasons behind them.

I am also posting this online, to the interwebs, to the world, to hold me accountable. Goals have a greater chance of success if held accountable to someone else. I know, I’m only accountable ultimately to myself, but it makes a difference to me to have stated these goals publicly, in a perhaps shaky voice. Here they are:

Create three Blurb Photobooks. I admit, I may be cheating a bit here as I just uploaded one yesterday, but I am motivated to create different outlets than usual for my photography . Some smaller, coffee table, books for my home and office would be great, as well as a notebook or two. I have ideas bouncing around like ping-pong balls in my head, so they need to come out.
Enter three prints in gallery shows. Either by approaching galleries, coffee shops, bars, etc., myself, or joining other photographers in a small show, I intend to hang at least 3 prints in the public eye. I’m doing this because I want to make sure I plan out a direction, apply some foresight, develop the endurance to see it through, and enjoy the final presentation. It’s scary to me and perhaps that is why I should do it.
Enter at least one print in a juried competition. Friends have entered their work at the state fair competition and annual NM photographer competitions and I have admired their courage. I want some of that for myself. Guess how you get it? Plus, I think the feedback I might receive, positive or negative, will be helpful in pushing my photography forward.
Complete a photographic project for someone else. Last year I shot my brother’s production plant and it was one of the hardest photographic challenges. Working for someone else’s expectations photographically is not something I like to do. This challenge will either confirm that I’m not a photographer for hire, or it will push me to develop and trust my skills and instincts so I can do so successfully. I hope the latter happens.
Support another artist. I love that art exists and therefore I need to support it’s process. That being said, I intend to give to the artistic community locally by either providing some needed photographic work for free, teaching a skill, developing something creatively in conjunction with the artist, etc. It’s about giving back. It’s time.
Learn more about black and white photography. I just love black and white photography and want to use it more purposefully. So this year I intend to read at least 2 books about black and white photographic technique and theory as well as spend at least one solid month shooting solely in black and white.
Post at least 100 blog posts over the course of the year. That’s about 2 posts a week. That’s not a lot in blogging terms but my goal is consistency and good content so I hope to follow through and surpass this number.
Do photography for fun. I listened to business manager Corwin Hiebert’s interview on a podcast by Faded & Blurred the other day and he reminded me of why I picked up a camera in the first place. I admit, I got a bit sidetracked by wanting to succeed. The unfortunate thing is that in order to define success it is easy to fall into the trap of quantifying success, and that leads to trying to make money(dollars being wonderful quantifiers). So now, having realized I fell into that trap a bit, I intend to remember that I do photography for the love of telling and seeing a visual story.
Lose ten pounds. I know, this doesn’t seem photography related. But if I attempt to separate photography from who I am and how I feel, both about my environment and myself, then I’m not doing so good. The extra 10 pounds make me feel crummy. I want to be leaner; it will reflect in my images. I’m going to lose 10 pounds.

How about you? Do you have photographic goals for the year? Is there something you want to do with your photography?; something/one/where you would like to photograph? Some aspect of photography you would like to learn?

Dec

2010

Feeling Your Way Through Art

I have become more critical of my photographic work lately. Much more critical. I don’t mean self-critical in the way that many of us become thinking “this sucks. I’m never going to be any good at it.”–though those thoughts do creep in from time to time like they do for most of us. Instead I mean more discerning about what I would like to say with my photographs. If photography can be a visual language, then what am I going to use my voice for?

You see, I feel I have become a decent snapshot-ist. I can take some pretty pictures of people and places. I can make memorable images (at least to me and my family) of my vacations and events that are important to us. But this medium has the ability to do so much more and I would like to do that. I don’t know how, yet. But the process appears to have begun; I’ve become more critical of my work.

So how do I know if I am on track with an image? Well, it has to feel right. If images are a visual language, feelings are the receptor for that language. My hope is to move others with my photography, and in order to accomplish this the core message of the images needs to be emotional in nature. As a result the first question I need to ask myself when viewing newly created is, “what is this image about?” The thing to keep in mind is that the subject and the subject matter of a photograph are different things. The subject matter is the “stuff” in the frame of the image: the chairs, lights, raindrops, people, places, etc. The subject is what that “stuff”, represented in that way, is pointing toward: an emotion; a theme. The photographer will be aware of the difference while the snapshot-ist may not, at least not cognitively.

Knowing that images are processed in the right hemisphere of the brain and are therefore pre-verbal, perhaps even beyond verbal, can be helpful in discovering the subject of any individual photograph. When making an image I have begun to ask myself “what is this image about?” and attempting to answer that question with short, one or two word descriptions: love; joy; hope; loss; transcendence; rage; resistance; innocence; growth; change; jealousy; peace or whatever. While also helpful in encouraging my emotional literacy, this exercise is also helpful in making me attentive to my internal reaction to an external representation. This reaction of mine might be similar to someone else’s internal emotional response to the same image.

To put it another way, I have become aware that photography is a way for me to communicate my understanding of my experience in this world with others. While I have been able to do so successfully with family and close friends (ie: those with similarly shared experiences) I am longing to communicate with others outside my own house, per se. So I need to get more specific and universal with my languaging.

Can you see why I’ve become pickier? It is not easy to do. Yet, like most things worthwhile, it is valuable to do so.

How have you been pushing the envelope of your visual language and therefore of your creativity? I would love to know.

Nov

2010

I Shoot Cliched Images

I do. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. It just might be the pathway, the portal, to shooting more interesting, compelling, and non-cliche images.

I remember being a senior in college and visiting the career placement office in the hopes of finding my destiny-a professional job. While there I and other classmates were told that job offers came in for students at a ratio of 1 job offer per 20 applications submitted. What is interesting about ratios is that the ratio simply holds over time; upon acceptance of a job, the student will have submitted 20 applications for each offer. That meant we might have to submit 40 applications before receiving 2 offers, or 60 applications before receiving 3. The placement officer encouraged us to not take rejection letters personally and instead to collect them thereby marking our steps toward our job.

I took the advice to heart and collected my rejection letters. If the ratio held true, as he promised, I would eventually receive a job-I just needed to submit enough applications. So I collected each rejection as a badge of honor and used them to wallpaper my room, each one getting me one step closer to my goal.

The same can be said of cliched photographs. I once heard somewhere that we all have 10,000 cliched images in us that we need to get out before we really begin to find our voice with the camera. We all shoot our feet at some point; we all take self portraits in the mirror; we all take pictures of our coffee cups; and the flowers we bought and put in a vase; and the empty road in the middle of nowhere; and the moon; and the sunset. It’s not that they’re bad images, per se. They’re not. You like them. You took them. Heck, we all took them at some point. So enjoy them. The only problem is that nearly everyone takes those images, so they’ve become cliche. And to break out of cliche images as a photographer is challenging, takes hard work and discipline, and endurance! We have to get those shots out of our system. Our soul, so to speak, has to get used to speaking through our photographic medium and perhaps those cliched images are the vocabulary lessons. Eventually the soul will catch on and amazing stuff will come out.

So don’t despair if you continue to shoot cliches, so-called snapshots. We all do! It just means we are one step closer to breaking through to using that camera in really creative ways and speaking in a really unique and personal voice. Instead, join me in wallpapering your room with them (well, you wallpaper your room and I’ll wallpaper mine…), showing them off like badges of honor; one step closer. And unlike my college dorm room, it will be pretty cool to look at.

Oct

2010

Unexpected Changes

It is said that change is the only constant. A whimsical, paradoxical, and wise statement that. And it is worth paying attention to. Changes have crept into my photography and my creativity without my awareness, and I pride myself on some measure of self-awareness!

But it has happened and I am now able to take some stock and do something about it. You see, my available time for photographing has dwindled significantly due to family and work constraints and I find most of my photographic opportunities centering around settings that require continuous servo focusing and fast shutter speeds: photographing my fast moving children. At the same time I switched from shooting mostly in jpeg mode to using the Camera RAW format in order to have greater creative control in the digital darkroom. And furthermore I switched from primarily using PhotoShop to using Lightroom to edit my images. All of these shifts have changed how I work through my creative process and as a result have impacted my creative output.

Oops. It is no wonder my creative satisfaction is down. It is no wonder I am not really happy with the results of my photography. No longer do images taken in black and white on my camera arise the same way on my monitor; camera RAW always shows up in color. It is the raw, unprocessed (therefore not converted to black and white) image. And I am less comfortable converting to black and white in Lightroom than I was in Photoshop, so I was drawn to creating images with a very different look. As a result I created images that fit within my post-processing comfort range. There’s nothing inherently wrong with that, it is just that the images don’t satisfy what my heart wants to convey. And that is the rub, of art at least.

I’ve also found myself wanting more and more gear; a sure sign, at least for me, that something is stagnant. If I don’t feel like I have something to point my camera toward, what makes me think a it will suddenly arise before a new lens, new camera, or be drawn out of a WaCom tablet (ooooh but the lord knows I want one of those!!)

So, what is missing? I have been asking myself this question and waiting for the answer to arise. I have also been trying different things. I am basically searching out what my muse, that creative energy, wants. And slowly, as I ask and make time to hear the answer, it has been coming. More black and whites images, fewer cliched images, and more stuff that “feels right.” One does, after all, have to pay attention to the muse; she’s pretty cold hearted if you turn a deaf ear.

Sep

2010

On Copping Out: when there is no time to make photographs

I’ve not written much on this blog lately, I don’t know if you’ve noticed. I haven’t burned out though. Quite the opposite. I am smoldering, slowly, waiting, watching.

Life has become hectic and running the edge of unmanageably. There is little extra time for anything, including photography. Most days as I collect my things to leave the house for work I look down at my camera bag sitting there, waiting patiently to be picked up, and I wonder, “can I?”

But, for now, I can’t. There isn’t time; and there isn’t time that can be made either. Life has become like that and I surrender to it. Yes, I could choose to rearrange my priorities. I know that. I could choose to make time. But my priorities are right where they need to be, and that leaves little or no time for making photographs. So I leave my camera bag at home yet another day, on purpose, mindfully. In this case taking it along would pull my attention away from those things that rightfully need to have it.

So, what is left then? Well, I watch. And I wait. And I observe. And I dream. And this makes the desire burn. The hot coals smolder and gain energy and when the time comes there will be a bright bursting forth. How do I know this? Well, it’s happened before. I’ve lived long enough to know that. I’ve seen it happen in others as well and the resulting creativity has been fabulous, amazing, fascinating.

It helps to want to create good photographs and this time of restricted productivity can fuel that “wanting to.” Or it can create frustration and resentment if I let it. The choice really is up to me.

Aug

2010

Failed Inspiration and the Time For Work

The other day I remarked during one of my posts that I was struggling a bit with inspiration. Family life and work commitments can sometimes (rightly, in my book) interfere with one’s movement toward creativity. They can squash inspiration. These times are difficult for the creative. Given to so much inspiration over the course of our days we can be stymied when inspiration fails to arise. What do we do now? This is strange territory and we can become confused and disoriented.

But all is not lost. We are not necessarily doomed to a inspiration-less existence, although it might feel that way. Much as the rhythm of breathing in and out (inspiration and expiration) this flow of creative juices might be going through its regular cycle and the flow of inspiration is sure to return just as each out-breath is followed by another in-breath.

But what to do in the meantime?

Well, this is where those creatives who have met success separate themselves from those that do not. This is the time to work.

I recently read a quote by Shin’ichi Suzuki, founder of the Suzuki Method for learning violin and proponent of humankind’s talent potential in which he said, “I want to make good citizens. If a child hears fine music from the day of his birth and learns to play it himself, he develops sensitivity, discipline and endurance. He gets a beautiful heart.” I agree with this sentiment and would expand it to include all art forms for, after all, art is not just for seeing or hearing; it is for feeling.

So why this quote at this time? Well, if we are artists and photographers and we are moved by something either inside of ourselves or outside of ourselves to create something we consider beautiful, then we have the sensitivity part down. Perhaps what we now need to work on is the discipline and endurance. Discipline is born of doing what we know we must despite not wanting to, and endurance is born of discovering that we can do something much longer than we had previously imagined. Suzuki knew, from personal experience, that learning the violin is difficult and requires the development of the ability to practice more days than not despite not wanting to: discipline. He also knew that learning the violin means hanging in there long enough to learn it, which itself is longer than the student had imagined at the outset, mostly because it is a life-long process: endurance. He also knew that the requirements for learning the violin were also exactly what learning the violin would teach and these are beneficial in life.

I believe Suzuki’s thoughts are directly applicable to photography and these times of decreased inspiration are precisely the times when the development of discipline and endurance are developed. And this looks like work. There is a well known saying that goes something like, “success is a mix of inspiration and perspiration; 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration.” Well, this is perspiration time. Much like a violinist will practice scales, fingering technique, and other rudimentary building blocks of the art form, so too must the photographer return to basics. If you shoot more by natural light, learn the ins and outs of flash photography. If you tend to shoot with wide apertures, begin to explore smaller apertures and deeper depths of field. If you tend to shoot crisp and tightly focused images, try shooting something softer, or with slower shutter speeds, and even intentionally (gasp!) blurry. Sit down and learn a new editing software, backup your images, update your website. Go nuts and bolts on your photography, train your technique; from shooting to post processing to printing, train your technique so it becomes second nature and when inspiration begins to flow from the muse again you are so dialed you don’t have to think about technique anymore. Then, much like Suzuki’s young students, the beauty of the photograph can be communicated through the emotional connection to the image and you can play with feeling again.