Some Security
Ann Arbor, Michigan
photography
Goodbye, Door County
As with any vacation, getting back home feels like you never left. Even with a week and a modest agenda, time flies on holiday.
But we certainly made the best of it. One or two things per day, venturing out and about this peninsula, we felt like we went on enough adventures while still managing three kiddos.
For my photographic eyes, it was plenty. Those red cherries, that blue Great Lake, those violet lavender blossoms, the golden sunsets, and – just like Michigan – plenty of green everywhere we went.
Two out of the three kids would probably never remember this family vacation. For me, it was memorable enough to consider creating a photo book of our summer trip – a reminder of where we went and what we saw. And perhaps a reminder for if and when we consider this place again.
Thanks, Door County. We’re heading back home now.
(Check out part one, “Hello, Wisconsin,” and part two, “On Wisconsin.”)
On Wisconsin
Taking photos is how I get to know a place. With any new home, or job, or vacation destination, my camera becomes a sixth sense – another way to feel the vibes of a location.
To our family, this little corner of Door County, Wisconsin was completely new, yet spiritually familiar. We knew this lake, we knew these trees, we understood this climate. What was different was the little touches of Scandinavian culture (Lutheran Churches everywhere!), and the supper clubs, and fish boils – those little touches of Wisconsin that made us feel we were really somewhere new.
This cabin, too, reminded me so much of my grandparents’ farm house. The slanted room, the crawl spaces, the outdated furniture – it was like stepping back into my own past.
Here on the other side of the Niagara Escarpment, we felt with our eyes and tasted with our sight.
(View part one, “Hello, Wisconsin,” and part three, “Goodbye, Door County.”)
Lost Time
Look there – the whole month of July, gone.
It’s been a busy month. We had our family vacation (more on that soon), and I did some traveling for work. Along the way, I had big plans for my musicians project, even paying for studio space for the month.
Last night, I had my first subject join me in the space for a portrait session. It took the whole month of July for me to get one musician in the studio. That left 29 other unproductive days.
Finally, after things settled down, I hit a day last week when I got fed up with my lack of progress and jumped back into the project. I sent some emails, confirmed some dates, and boom – photo making.
It’s easy to feel guilty over all that lost time. I’ve beaten myself up all month long, but enough is enough. All it takes is pushing one pebble down the hill, and pretty soon you have an avalanche. For me, the pebble was sending an email invitation to a stranger.
Thanks, OTP
Few things have been constants in my photography hobby. Not cameras, not lenses, not subjects, not styles.
The thing that has remained constant: the On Taking Pictures podcast by Bill Wadman and Jeffery Saddoris.
The duo just wrapped up their last episode, number 325, after putting out six years worth of weekly, hour-plus shows. We, as listeners, tuned in as they discussed the art and craft of photography, the creative method, art culture, and personal struggles. Bill and Jeffery built an audience and a community, and as they did so, On Taking Pictures become a can’t-miss podcast for me each week.
In fact, as I think about my photography practice, I can’t think of a time when I wasn’t listening and learning at the same time. OTP was responsible for one of my first photography projects, and Bill and Jeffery helped me think of projects as larger bodies of work – something that has helped me create my portrait projects, and much more.
Even as my photography practiced has waxed and waned, especially lately, Bill and Jeffery helped me stay in touch with my passion. They reminded me that photography was a worthy hobby, and that some issues – what we view as “good” work, how others see our work, how much of a difference photography can make – may never be resolved. Their point? That lack of resolution was okay. It was normal.
Gear was sometimes a topic, but rarely a subject of their show. Instead, what they focused on was the art stuff: exhibitions, project goals, their Photographers of the Week. Cameras were important, but never as important as the subject.
OTP was a great show – a perfect photography podcast, when so many others have come and gone, or lost my interest. I’ll miss it. The good news is, the shows are archived at 5by5 for future listeners.
And, here’s hoping, for future episodes.
Thanks Bill and Jeffery.
Thank Goodness for Photographers
Often it’s the photographers, underpaid and working for dwindling news agencies, that highlight humanitarian crimes.
When we see kids suffering, we’re motivated to act. Rightfully so.
Thank goodness for photographers.
Being Boring
“Turns out the stuff that makes you happy is mostly everyday and boring.” – Hugh MacLeod
My bio says that I use photography as an excuse for adventure. But lately, being boring is far more attractive to me.
It could be getting older, becoming a parent, priorities shifting, all that. Anymore, I feel like simply photographing what I see, around the house, or on a walk, is plenty satisfying.
I look back at my early landscape photography, and all the abandoned work I did, and I recognize the “adventure” involved in making those pictures. Part of me misses that phase of my photography – the hunger to wake up early on a foggy morning and watch the sunrise, making lovely images all the while.
When I get the chance, I still do that kind of stuff. But I don’t actively seek it out anymore. I’m becoming boring.
I still have my portrait projects, and the kids are always great photo subjects. I work on the occasional family portrait session. It’s just that the adventure stuff has taken a backseat.
That’s the great part about photography as a hobby: I don’t have to feel guilt about settling into a groove.
Photography FOMO
As photographers, we’re in constant fear of missing out. That’s why we carry cameras around.
Except that version of FOMO leads to incredible (decisive?) moments, captured. The other version? That one you have to take a break from.
The photographers version? That one leads to adventure and discovery.
No harm in always having a camera handy so you don’t miss out.
The Spark You Need
Wrapping up my latest project, I thought about what kickstarted the whole thing.
It was the film. Lomography advertised a new, limited-run film stock that you had to buy in bulk – 10 boxes an order. That got my brain, and my math, going: 10 boxes of 36 exposure film equals about a year’s worth of shots, if you took one shot per day.
Boom. A project.
Sometimes we don’t need grand ideas for personal projects. Sometimes it’s the gear that sparks an idea.
Grab a cheap-o camera and see what kind of project you can make out of it. Take a simple piece of equipment – a vintage lens, or twin-lens reflex camera – and see where it leads you.
All you need is a spark.
Journal, With A Bullet
I’ve dipped my toes into the Bullet Journal pool.
For two months now, I’ve been logging my daily activities, organizing my tasks, and laying out my appointments and meetings in this handy journal, using a no-frills approach to the Bullet Journal philosophy. Basically, I took what I was doing using Things and paper lists and combining that workflow into one canonical place: a notebook.
(And a cheap-o one at that. Nothing fancy.)
The basic idea is that you write your task list and appointments down on paper, month by month. Whatever you don’t get done each month transfers to the next month. Along the way, you make decisions about those tasks – like, should they even be in there?
From there, you use an index system at the front of the notebook to keep tabs on the various months, task lists, projects, and reference lists you keep in the journal. And then it’s up to you to add whatever system you want on top of that basic outline.
I’m still in the very early stages of using this system, but already I’ve noticed a few things:
- If I need to do or remember something, I have one place to put it now. Before, I was using paper, my phone, or nothing.
- If I have a task to do, having a reference to look at has been super helpful. “What can I do right now?” Check the journal, and it’s there. I am finding I’m actually getting more done.
- There’s a bit of personality involved – such as noting the first time we went to the ice cream shop, or writing down a memorable moment in the daily log. It’s a journal in the truest sense.
- You can get crazy with pictures and taxonomies and ink colors, but I’m keeping it simple, or putting in a splash of color when I feel like it. No pressure to do either, because it’s mine, and only I look at it.
- I’m logging my fitness goals in the journal, and boy – it’s a real sense of accomplishment to see my commitment on paper.
Other digital systems have never quite stuck with me, whether those systems involve an app (Things), a device (my iPhone), or notes (Apple Notes, Simplenote, etc.). Maybe all I needed was a notebook and a pen.
I’m still living the Getting Things Done® lifestyle, with projects and weekly reviews and all that. The journal keeps all that in one spot, and gives me direct, immediate feedback on how I’m doing. At the minimum, the system requires a monthly review.
The combo of iOS Reminders, my Apple Calendar (on Mac and iOS), and the Bullet Journal has been key with appointments, meetings, birthdays, etc. Writing down an event on paper is fine, but I still need my phone to buzz and remind me of upcoming dates.
Photography-related: I have a whole @Photos project in here with to-do items, lists of ideas, and potential blog posts. Again, it’s an on-paper reference – one canonical source for photography stuff.
Habits are hard to establish. I feel like GTD has been an easy at-work habit, but maybe not such an easy life habit. With this journal system, I may finally have the platform to get things done in all areas of my life.
Twelve Times
Our youngest, Riley, turned one this week.
So this week, like every month this past year, we’ll set her up in a little photo shoot, and take a bunch of pictures. Every month is labelled with a little sticker we put on her. Doing this, we have 12 portraits of our baby through the year.
At the minimum, 12 good photos of your baby in a year is pretty good. I shoot a bunch more of her, but I know that each month we at at least get one, and we make it a ritual: change her outfit, the backdrop, put props in, that kind of thing.
The fun part? Going through and seeing the photos sequentially, from the start. There’s our Riley, one year ago, with a hint of who she would be 12 months later. There’s the first time she sat up on her own. There’s the one with the drool…
I’d like to say we kept our ritual going with the other two kids after they passed 12 months. But babies really are easier to pose, and goodness knows I take plenty of the other two doing their kid things. It’s fine. At least we have those first 12 months.
Fixed On Prizes
“There are too many awards and prizes for any of them to make sense any longer, yet people still have their eyes fixed on them,” says Jörg M. Colberg. So what makes a successful photo?
It’s not where it appears, or how many awards it earns, Colberg argues. Success is derived from intent – in achieving a goal.
I know it’s easy to fall into the awards abyss, especially the seeking. I used to love it when a random Tumblr photo blog would feature my stuff. It felt like worthwhile recognition, when really it meant nothing. Another photo would replace it in the blog stream, and the handful of people who saw it wouldn’t think much of it. Rinse, repeat.
What did matter to me was earning recognition from a body of work. That took effort, doing research, talking to subjects, planning out the project, thinking about my audience, and pounding the pavement to get the word out. The project was more than a group of photos with a goal – it was the whole workload.
We see “award-winning photographer” enough, don’t we? How about “completed successful project that mattered photographer?”
Finding Your Likes
Photographs I enjoy taking:
- Portraits of characters in my community
- Slashes of light in darkness
- Scenes of small, quiet moments around the house
- Colorful scenes around the city
- The change of seasons here in Michigan
Photos I don’t enjoy so much:
- Lanscapes
- Birds and wildlife
- Traditional street photography
Things I’ve tried and am still working out:
- Still life
- Abandoned buildings and homes
- Wedding and event photography
I can only make a list like this by actually trying out these types of photography. That means experimenting, testing, doing something over and over again to see if it catches.
It also means stumbling into something, with no warning or preparation, and loving it by chance. My light and shadow stuff developed slowly, over time, and only by looking back and seeing a theme did I realize the kind of work I wanted to make.
Finding your likes may mean finding your dislikes as well.
Time for Photos
I haven’t done this in a while: tromp around outside on a snowy morning (in April!) and take some sunrise photos.
It’s one of the benefits of the new job. I now have some time to stop and make pictures, and this week I realized how much I missed that.
As soon as I saw the sun rising in the backyard, and the light catching the snow crystals, I knew I had to grab the macro lens and get out there.
Maybe it’s a good practice to schedule these types of things. Or maybe it’s good enough to have some time in your schedule to let serendipity happen. Maybe, as Forest Gump says, it’s a bit of both.
Capturing Feelings
“I find photography a way of capturing what I’m feeling and sharing it with others.” – Om Malik
In Like a Lion
“It’s good to see you taking photos again,” my wife told me this weekend.
Indeed. Maybe it took a freak March 1 storm that had both soaking wet rain and giant snowflakes. Maybe it took the light coming back in the morning and the evening. Maybe it took some hope on the horizon.
March is in like a lion. Me? More in like a lamb for a while. Let’s try that.
Try Not to Try
Desire, as the Buddha taught, is the source of suffering.
This is true in photography as well. New gear comes out, and photographers start sweating from Gear Acquisition Syndrome. It makes photographers feel like their gear is unworthy, and that photographs would be so much better with that new lens/camera/whatever.
Here’s a trick I learned to get over that feeling: just wait.
Wait a week. Don’t think about it. Maybe wait a bit longer.
Then: assess your feelings. Do you still desire that object?
For me, the waiting works every time. I look back at my week-ago self and wonder, what was all the fuss about? Is my life worse off? Did I suffer for not jumping on a purchase?
This strategy applies whenever I’m thinking about making a major purchase. If I wait, and I still feel strongly, then I know it’s important. If I wait and the feeling passes, I know I can either save up a bit more, wait a little longer for a discount, or just not go through with the purchase.
As Tom Petty sang, sometimes the waiting is the hardest part. Once you’re past that, you’ll make better decisions.
An Easy Decision
My heart hurts. Another school shooting, another reason for our kids (and parents!) not to feel safe, and another bunch of nothing gets fixed.
Aiden has to do school drills to practice being safe if something terrible happened. In my day, drills were for tornadoes – natural occurrences that you can’t control. Our parents had bombing drills, and we all decided that hiding from nuclear weapons wasn’t a thing we wanted to do. Hence: arms control.
Today, drills are for something we can control, but fail to do anything about. It’s silly.
Glad to see the Florida students shame our politicians, and (hopefully) many Americans who feel our kids aren’t worth protecting.
I’m pro hunting, pro owning a shotgun or a handgun – but also pro safety and controlling these killing machines from the crazies. We can have both.
Most of all, I’m in favor of kids over guns. It should be an easy decision, America.
Make And Take
Leave it to me to schedule our Family Art Studio session for the snow storm weekend.
But so it went. We drove to Ann Arbor, braving the highway traffic and slick conditions, to spend the day making art at my work.
This was the boy’s first trip to an art museum, and he had a lot of questions. Were the statues real? Why can’t you touch the art? That bust of George Washington – where’s the rest of his body? Why was that girl so hairy?
We took inspiration from Japanese graphic design and made our own poster out of cut-out shapes of colored paper. It was us and six other families – half of what was scheduled to show up.
“The difference between your art on the fridge and these drawings is that there’s a frame around them, and they’re hanging in a museum,” I said.
I hope he took the day to heart.
Snow Day
There’s nothing like a snow storm to get the family out of the cabin fever funk.
It’s also a great excuse to get the ol’ point and shoot camera out, dust off the lens, and take some photos of the outside activities. Despite the broken battery door, my Canon PowerShot SD750 still works great, and shoots fine.
This thing and me go way back. We’ve been on many adventures, from road trips through New England to hiking in Zion, and all of life before I purchased my first DSLR.
This weekend, when the snow started to accumulate, I broke out the SD750 while me and the boy went sledding, and then to capture all the fun in the yard when we got home. After all, if it gets wet, no big loss.
A side benefit: the photo files loaded lickety split into Lightroom.
Say Cheese
It’s a hard habit to break, having your kids say “cheese” whenever they see the camera come out.
Our own kids started saying “cheese” almost out of nowhere, and at a very young age.
Meanwhile, I strive for those in-between moments when taking photos of the family. I want their real faces, and real smiles, so I’ve learned to be sneaky and quick. Those in-between photos are the ones I treasure, collect, and share.
Sure, the grandparents want a nice framed photo of the kids looking at the camera and smiling. Family snapshots have looked like that since our parents were kids. Again: a hard habit to break.
Me, I want some real life in my photos.
It’s made me think about making family photos for friends and family. My paid gigs are few and far between these days, but when I do get asked about taking family portraits, I want to make a suggestion: How about we hang out for a morning, and just let me capture what happens in between the Cheeses? There’s some intimacy involved, yes, but like a good photojournalism assignment, the good pictures are made by simply being there and capturing what happens.