Last year I did a series of photographer interviews as a fun winter project. It was a great way to chat with photographers whose work I enjoy, and to learn about some photographers who I’ve followed on social media, or connected with through On Taking Pictures.
Let’s do it again!
I have a list of people I’m going to reach out to, but if you follow the work I do, and you’re a photographer with good work to share, I’d love to feature your stuff.
In fairness, this idea stems from the success I had with an email newsletter to announce and promote my Artists In Jackson project. I simply took that list and said to everyone “You’re either with me, or unsubscribe now!”
Turns out, most of them stuck around.
What will my email newsletter contain? Various bits of material from this blog, interesting photography I find, arts and culture going on in my community, and updates on my latest projects – specifically, the big portrait projects. It will be an experiment, but as I think about using things like Facebook less and less, an email newsletter could be my way to keep my friends, family, and followers in the know. Bi-weekly to monthly, depending on what I have going on.
Ben Brooks has some valid skepticism over original content on email newsletters. I’m going to think a lot about what he wrote. Part of me feels like you can have a different kind of fun on an email newsletter, to keep it special.
Mostly it’ll be a testing platform to see what I can do with it. Join me for the ride.
I spent a good time of the holiday break absorbing Rebecca Lily’s 365 project, from start to finish. I’ve mentioned Lily’s project here before, but I keep coming back to it because I love her journal-style posts, her photos, and her voice. And I admire the project.
It has me thinking about 365 projects in general. Many photographers attempt them, and many never finish. Some say don’t bother.
Reading Lily’s project blog got me thinking: could I do my own 365 project?
In a way, keeping a daily blog is a sort of 365 day project. Except for weekends, I post a photo (or two) per day on my Flickr.
The difference is, a 365 project is daily – make a photo every day, post a photo every day, even on weekends. It’s the combination of discipline and routine, along with any lessons learned along the way, that make a 365 project worthwhile.
Or not. Toward the end of Lily’s project, you feel her struggling to see the thing through. Is a mundane photograph worth the daily post? How do you handle the ebb and flow of the project, from the highs to the lows? What’s to stop you from giving up partway through?
Thinking about this kind of project, I voice these questions as I look at my own fears. I don’t think the daily photo making would be the tough part, although it would still be a challenge. It’s more like, what would be my goal in establishing a 365 project? Would I post every day? How?
This is the kind of planning and goal setting I feel would make for a successful project.
A 365 project is by far the best recommendation I could ever give a photographer who is struggling with finding their own style or voice. It’s like taking an intensive college course that’s normally a semester long, in 6 weeks. It’s perhaps five years’ worth (or more) of photography condensed into 1 year.
Maybe I should’ve started a project two years ago.
As I plan for my next portrait project, the idea of renting a studio space keeps popping up. Wouldn’t it be nice to have my own dedicated creative space, instead of relying on environmental portraits at other people’s studios or homes?
So I started shopping around, and asking friends and colleagues about potential studios.
The kicker is the set of conditions I’ve set on myself: strong window light, with an east or west-facing window, semi-centrally located in Jackson (for easy access), plenty of wiggle room for materials, and convenient availability to fit my work and family schedule. I’ve seen a few places around town that fit the bill, but another complication is that I’ll only need the space for a month or two. If I rent, I’m not sure how many landlords would be up for a 60 day lease.
But we’ll see. I’m starting to make phone calls and get my bearings. It’s a whole new world.
I’m lucky to work in higher education, where the week between Christmas and the new year are seen as an automatic holiday. This year, I took a few extra days before Christmas off, meaning a lot of time at home with the family.
What did we do? Not much. A bit of repair work on my car, some house showings, a couple of sick kids to contend with, and the busy back-and-forth of family holiday time. I was able to dig into a few photo books – Alex Webb’s The Suffering of Light was a nice Christmas gift – and think about my creative work for 2017.
But mostly, it was just what I had hoped for: quiet time, doing quiet things.
What’s amazing to me, looking at the past few years’ worth of photographs, is how (a) I take more photos and (b) it seems to be affected by what takes place in each of those years.
Did I take a wedding job? Did I take more iPhone photos? Did we take a big summer family trip? Heck, I have photos from 2015 that I haven’t even processed yet. They’re just sitting there, waiting for some Lightroom attention.
This year, I’ll hit 11,000 photos no problem. A new kiddo will do that.
Our Photos Per Year tell us a lot about the activities and output of each year. We take breaks. Life happens. We shoot more months than others.
More importantly, do we have an emotional attachment to that Photos Per Year rate? Do we feel bad we didn’t take as many photos this year as last? Why is that? Will taking more photos next year help us feel better?
I would argue that buying even 5 great street photography books will do more for your photography than any lens out there would. And assuming that each photo-book was $50, that would cost $250. That is a small fraction of any lens that you could purchase out there.
Good reminder this weekend, when you have some time for reading. And for the holiday season, when those Amazon gift cards come rolling in.