photography

On Discomfort

On Discomfort

Will I ever get over the awkwardness of asking people to take portraits, or for their help in starting a documentary project?

Probably not, which is why I try to do it often.

It’s kind of weird, to go up to someone, or send someone a note, and ask to make their portrait. How well do they know you? How well do they know your work? Do they know you at all?

I like to think it’s flattering to ask someone to take their portrait. It kind of says that I think the person is interesting enough to inquire. It also says that I want to spend a bit of time with the person – to get to know them better.

But I’m also a guy, and sometimes it feels like the bad guy stereotypes come through when I ask someone to join me in making photos.

For documentaries, it’s really weird, because here’s someone who does a cool thing but doesn’t know who I am, or what I’ve done. That was the case with my Albion Anagama documentary. I learned after the project was done that Ken and Anne had no idea what to expect. Thankfully, they were pleasantly surprised with the outcome.

But what if they weren’t?

That’s the risk of making something: you don’t know what the participant will think. You only hope that they’ll be pleased enough to continue a relationship and work with you again.

Getting over the hump of asking in the first place? I have no idea how to solve it. I’m going to keep trying, though, no matter how much discomfort it causes me.

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A Confession

 

University of Michigan Museum of Art

Sometimes, when I just need to unwind at work, or kill some time in the grocery line, I’ll look at the For Sale board on Fred Miranda.

I don’t need anything, and I’m sure as heck not going to buy anything. But it’s fun to read the equipment listings, especially when I don’t recognize something. That’s always a good research opportunity, and I love few things more than doing research.

Granted, I have picked up a few good finds on Fred Miranda. My go-to Canon 5D is from that listing board, as was my Fuji X-E1 and my 20mm lens.

I look at Fred Miranda like a car person reads a hot rod mag. No harm in that.

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My Two Wedding Photography Rules

Jolly Pumpkin - Ann Arbor, Michigan

This weekend I’m shooting my once-per-year wedding gig.

I have two rules for photographing someone’s wedding:

  1. I have to know you.
  2. I have to like you.

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.

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Just Another Asshole

Just Another Asshole

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?

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On Switching Gears

Switching Gears

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.

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Cameras Are Like Pets

Ann Arbor, Michigan

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.

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Break Time

Break Time

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.

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Take On City Hall

Take On City Hall

[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.

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On More vs Just Enough

More vs Just Enough

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]

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Nothing To Do With Thinking

On Thinking

“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.

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