This weekend I’m shooting my once-per-year wedding gig.
I have two rules for photographing someone’s wedding:
Those stipulations help me to be super picky about the gigs I agree to take.
I don’t need the income. I don’t need the images for my portfolio. I see it as a way to use my skills for someone I know and like.
It’s also fun as hell.
There’s so much ugliness on display in the world lately.
Our oceans are dying. Our neighbors and protectors are dying. Political compromise is dying. Common sense seems to be dying.
It’s enough to make you think about building that bunker out in the backyard and waiting the whole thing out.
Artists, musicians, religious leaders, and poets will help us try to make sense of it all, over time. In the meantime, there are photographers on the front lines of these terrible events, witnessing first-hand the terrible things that humans do to each other.
As they’re doing that, try to get out and capture something beautiful, while there’s still time. While it’s still there.
If you’re a photographer, do you only check out other photographers’ work? Is there value in digging into architecture, say, or sculpture?
I follow lots of photographers whose work I enjoy. Usually, their work is so different from mine. Lately, I’m trying to follow other artists, too, just to get a broad view of the creative world. Photography is great, but so is music, dance, painting, film.
Artists have a lot to learn from each other.
Don’t be afraid to stretch beyond your own artistic corner of the world.
A year or two ago, I thought about doing a book called “So You Bought a Fancy Camera.” It would be for friends who had just bought a DSLR or mirrorless camera and needed to get started with the basics.
Instead, I spent my time making another book (and another after that), covering something other than how-to material, and I feel like that was time better spent.
Who needs another asshole talking about focal length?
Here’s what I used to do with my free time:
I’d take an old Macintosh, either from eBay or an e-waste drive, plug it in, fire it up, and fix whatever was wrong.
I’d add RAM, or install a new PRAM battery. I’d clean out the vents and get the gunk off the keyboard. Make sure the mouse worked. Install the latest version of the operating system. Try out a different hard drive.
This went on for three or four years. Take a random Friday night, put on The Verve Pipe’s Villains, grab a six pack, and tinker. And then I’d write about it.
I loved it.
And then I walked away.
In its place, I picked up a new hobby, and slowly let the former one slip into the past, like Saturday morning cartoons or homecoming dances.
This happens to lots of us. Often, several times during our lives. Maybe we outgrow our hobbies after a while, or situations change in life. We get married, start families, switch jobs. Our priorities change.
I used to feel bad about leaving my Mac hobby behind. I still love tinkering, and I still play with my old PowerMac and Newtons.
But just like I left behind playing Magic: The Gathering, and staying up late trying to beat Super Mario Bros. 3, I switched gears.
It’s okay to try on new things, and leave old things behind. Maybe photography won’t be “my thing” forever, and that’s fine, too.
There are plenty of hobbies out there.
For a long time, I used disposable cameras and point and shoots to do my photography. It wasn’t quite a hobby yet, but I used those two tools to do a lot of shooting – particularly on cross-country road trips.
But then something flipped, and I wanted to take photography seriously. I had the drive, and the intent, so I saved up money and bought my first DSLR in 2010. I saw it as an investment in a new hobby.
I get the sense that many people buying entry-level DSLRs are buying the “fancy” camera to take “better” photos.
Don’t buy a fancy camera unless you have the patience and time to do it right.
For most people, a smartphone camera is all they ever need. Point and shoots are great, and affordable.
Buying a DSLR or mirrorless camera is like buying a pet: it needs feeding, care, to be taken for a walk, etc.
Jon Wilkening is taking a much-needed break from his work, and from social media, this month.
Good for him. And it’s such a Today thing to do. I’ve seen so many blog posts lately where the authors are taking the month of July and turning off all social media.
I do that from time to time, usually on vacation or around the holidays. I find that I usually don’t miss much, and what I do miss, I don’t know any better.
Taking breaks from your hobby can be helpful, too. Last winter, after I finished my portrait project, I needed to step away from photography and recharge. The same thing happened this spring when I got my new job: my brain needed to work out other things than exposures and apertures.
So take a breather. And don’t feel guilty about it.
[Photography] is not a popularity contest; it’s creating something that means something.
Ted Forbes says that no one cares about your photographs. The world doesn’t need more photos, or paintings, or songs – we have plenty, thanks.
What does matter? Projects. Difference-making, not-easy work.
Take pretty shots, sure. Just understand no one cares about them. Nor should they.
But when you tackle projects that say something, or take on a big issue, you’re doing the work that a good journalist can do. Humanity needs stuff that matters.
Take on City Hall, whatever that means to you.
More is a losing sum game. Once you get more, you only continue to want more. We’re pre-wired this way.
Jason Zook writes that “just enough” is good enough. Just enough followers, just enough leisure time, just enough income to be comfortable.
How does this relate to photography and creativity?
Think about all the stuff surrounding photography. More lenses, more Lightroom presets, more training videos, more lighting rigs. More, more, more.
It’s tough. I feel it myself, every time I see a 135mm lens for sale on Fred Miranda, or when a photographer I enjoy releases a new preset pack.
But then I think: Will this help? Will I actually use it?
When will enough be enough?
Lots of people can make money off of your feelings of inadequacy, or your gear lust. Next time you get the itch, try turning that around and say, “With what I have right now, I’m going to make something that someone will want from me.”
[via Jon Wilkening’s retweet]
“Painting has nothing to do with thinking, because in painting thinking is painting. Thinking is language – record-keeping – and has to take place before and after. Einstein did not think when he was calculating: he calculated – producing the next equation in reaction to the one that went before – just as in painting one form is a response to another, and so on.”
– Gerhard Richter
So it goes with making anything, from photographs to ceramics.
You don’t do by thinking. You just do.
Earlier this week, Hasseblad released a new thing: a mirrorless medium format camera.
Of course, if you follow the camera press, you heard about it from rumor to reveal. It’s supposed to be the “next big thing.” Maybe it will be.
For those in a rush to spend $10,000 on a new camera, might I suggest something? Don’t read the initial reviews. Read the reviews from users a year from now.
How does it handle? What hiccups does it have? How tough is it? What complications does it introduce?
A lot of things – cars, tablets, cameras – are introduced to great fanfare with no thought to the long-term usability of the product. When things go wrong, do they go horribly wrong? Does the company stand behind the product?
Yes, a new camera, shiny and cool with a neat new idea. But if you wait a year, it should still be cool, and I bet you’ll get a better deal on it.
Some of my favorite photographers are street photographers. Those New York guys in the ‘60s and ‘70s? It’s some of my favorite work.
There’s something about modern street photography, though, that doesn’t appeal to me. It starts to look the same after while.
There are exceptions.
I’m not a huge fan of doing street photography, either – not in its traditional sense. I’ll head out with a camera and explore a city. I’ll even take photos of people in the streets, in windows, in their cars, wherever. It just has to be a pretty special shot for me to share it.
A shot like those guys (or ladies) in the mid-century would make.
Shapes, shadows, the kind of urban landscape stuff that Stephen Shore would make – that’s more up my alley.
I took a spare Friday this summer and hit the not-so-mean streets of Ann Arbor, Michigan. It was a beautiful evening, Summerfest was going on, and Friday nights in Ann Arbor are pretty hopping. The light was past the too-harsh phase. It was one of those great June nights in Michigan.
For this exercise, I shot locations, mostly. I saw an interesting scene, waited until something fun came along, and made a photo. Or the sunlight would come in at an interesting angle, so I’d shoot that scene.
What I didn’t do was go out and try to find interesting people. Maybe that’s the Stephen Shore difference.
More scene finding, less Gary Winogrand’ing.
When I finished my Artists In Jackson portrait project, I wrote a lengthy piece on some lessons I learned from the work. Part of that, “Thinking About Your Audience,” was a reflection on how I think about who’s going to care about what I make:
If you’re well-connected and well-known, this may not be such an issue for you. Your art may already have an audience. But if you’re a first-timer like me, this audience stuff matters. I didn’t want to make something and have it flop.
In other words, who do I hope sees this?
Now, that doesn’t affect the actual portraits I make. Those are all mine, with no thought on what’s “marketable.” Style, subject, composition – that’s all me.
But when I bundle all these things together, I do think about who will be interested. When I’m done, who do I send this to first?
Part of me feels like a “sellout” for thinking that way. After all, should it matter who sees what I make? Who cares if it’s “marketable?”
For one: me. And for two: Many of my projects have a community focus. If I’m highlighting local artists, say, or people with fun hobbies, then I want to make sure those people are recognized by their communities, big or small.
I get some benefit out of that, sure. But so do the people I showcase. “Here,” the project says, “look at these folks who are just like you and do something interesting.”
For the portrait project, my audience was both my hometown and the artistic community within Jackson. For my Albion Anagama documentary, the audience was the Albion community and the ceramics community, plus alumni from Albion College.
Yes, the stuff I make matters to me, first and foremost.
In second place is the audience.
Exciting news: Canon released a new camera today. More megapixels! Touchscreen! GPS!
For many people, it really is exciting. They have $3,500 burning a whole in their pocket, or they need it for professional work.
But for us low-end shooters, we don’t need latest and greatest. In fact, a new Canon 5D means that the previous models, Marks I-III, will be on sale here soon. You can buy an affordable used or refurbished model.
I’m not shy about it: I use a 10 year old 5D for most photo stuff. There are others (six megapixels? C’mon!) who are even more ambitious in their anachronism.
So you can use this New Camera Day as an opportunity to jump on something new, jump on something old – or maybe wait a bit, until it goes on sale.
Black and white rarely appeals to me.
But if I’m going to make this daily blogging stuff a thing, why not try another experiment? Something I rarely do?
We’re going all monochrome.
Call it another challenge. Color photography appeals to me. I respect black and white photography, especially using the magic of film. But I see the world in color, literally and artistically.
So let’s switch it up, just for fun. Nothing but monochrome.
Give me a month, and a new idea, and I’ll make a project out of it.
Quitting coffee for a month? Done that. Quitting alcohol for a month? Done that (in January). Doing Lent, even though I’m not Catholic? Done that. Drive cross country a few times? Check!
I’ve done the workout thing, the running thing, the daily photo project thing, the portrait project thing, tried the vegetarian thing, a few documentary things.
A lot of my inspiration comes from Benjamin Franklin, who challenged himself with all kinds of fun personal projects. And because the idea of learning new things and applying what I’ve learned is immensely gratifying.
By pushing up against your limits, even if those are just perceived limits, can help you figure out more about yourself.
Can you quit meat/coffee/alcohol? What does that mean for the rest of your life? Does it makes things better, overall, or worse? What did you learn by doing that? Etc.
Here lately, I’ve had a few more personal projects in mind:
The good part is, these are all small things to try. If I fail, I’m not losing anything (except, perhaps, a bit of fitness).
But if I succeed, maybe it will make life a tiny bit better.
CJ Chilvers, (of @alesserphotographer) through Seth Godin, writes about the benefits of the daily blog post. That appeals to me.
I used to maintain an (almost) daily blog about a subject I was passionate about. It did well, and was a lot of fun for that period of my life.
For this stage, I’m focusing my blogging efforts on photography. I try to share a photo (or two) every day, and a longer, more thoughtful series on Wednesday evenings.
What can I say? I like routines.
Sometimes that breaks down on weekends, and on holidays, or when I leave for vacation. But for the most part: a photo a day.
What if I didn’t just share a photo, but also shared…something else? Some bit of insight, how-to, or project every single day? Could I do it?
Chilvers’ insistence on the daily blogging stuff appeals to me. I like to write. I like to share. And I like little projects and personal challenges. Plus, I’ve been looking for a project to start on the first day of summer this year.
Maybe this is it.
