Fine art images in particular are an invitation to meditate. They invite you to dwell on a subject or scene again and again. The only way I have found to improve at photography is to learn and re-learn to see. Unless I can do that, I cannot find anything to show you.
All subjects, and probably all types of photography, pose unexpected challenges that I can only meet by studied sensitivity and technical mastery. There seems to be a lot out there about the technical side, but it’s secondary in a way. I am finding it more interesting to think about the first part. Studied sensitivity.
A photographer succeeds or fails by the ability to attend to what is really there. To notice it, appreciate it, and show what makes it worth your repeated attention.
One of the reasons that I think photography is so important for me is that it I must notice and emphasize the good.
For me, photography is a practice of finding the good and dwelling on it.
It is still up to me to see.
Clearing and setting the table
I am finding that, like many creative fields, there is no way to force good photography. Instead, I need to sort of mentally set the table. When I do that, I make a space for it to happen.
I set the table by learning, practicing, and analyzing my results. These things help me see.
Learning activates noticing. Specifically it involves the reticular activating system. That’s the brain system that causes you to notice how many cars there are like your new one.
Good photography helps you see good photography. It is one reason that I am sharing my work. I want to help you notice more goodness in your life if I can.
There are a few mindsets that I find inimical to good photography:
- hurry,
- distraction,
- comparisons to others, and
- preoccupation with how I am doing.
Fine art images are rarely rushed
Hurry is not compatible with this kind of work. It won’t help me uncover the hidden numinous, let alone capture it in the wild.
It’s often easy to notice this mistake, but it can be hard to correct it. The sense of urgency is easy to detect, but the slowing down can be hard to remember. Especially because it is worthwhile to grab the camera and get to the location when the light is good.
But before I find my subject, I am trying to remember to slow down and really look at what is there.
Hurry won’t help uncovering the hidden numinous, let alone help me capture it in the wild.
Fine art images do not come from a distracted mind
In some ways, this sums up all of the threats to good photography that I am listing here. But I am thinking specifically of all the miscellaneous things that can keep you from noticing your surroundings.
I love podcasts and audio books. Often I listen while hiking and waiting, but I sometimes find that I have to take out the headphones and just be fully intentional about where I am.
Fine art images do not not happen while comparing myself to others
Comparisons can go one of two ways. Either I feel I am doing better or I feel I am doing worse. Sometimes it’s more about real or imaginary validation from others. But it either invites me to rest on my laurels, furnishes excuses or saps my motivation.
I can identify this state because it starts to feel like I am trying force it into a procrustean bed, or slipping into a scripted, auto-pilot mode. Regardless sucks the energy, personality and responsibility from my work.
Fine art photography is seldom self-conscious
Even if I avoid direct comparisons, I can do imposter syndrome or try to convince myself of my own greatness. Some people seem to succeed. To the extent that they do, they cut themselves off from opportunities to grow.
I’ve made this mistake. It’s hard to detect until it’s already over.
Others, I think more people, overcompensate when trying to keep themselves motivated. They sound arrogant or grandiose because they are unconvinced by their efforts.
Like a bystander pulled into the bullfighting ring, they’re doing everything they can to keep that overgrown critic busy while they get something done. It’s like a fake-it-till-you-make-it confidence.
I’ve tried to do that when the inner critic was especially bull-headed. But it always feels affected and strained, and I hate it.
Ego, whether faked or genuine, preoccupies the mind with itself.
Ego can make success into an enemy
Ego can drive someone to work hard, but then when hard work leads to success, it also strengthens the inner critic or adds more laurels to rest on.
I think this is a significant factor in the substance abuse and mental illness of so many famous artists in almost every creative field.
And, if like traditional bullfighters, they finally slow the bull with drugs and alcohol or puff themselves up enough to scare it away, then, I think they have dulled their consciences, and increased their risk of greater foolishness. As we also often see with celebrities in creative fields.
All good photography requires external attention
Fine art images, like any quality photography, usually requires complete attention to the subject. That means good photography requires peace of mind. Just correctly using tools goes so much better with peace of mind, as Robert Pirsig points out so brilliantly in Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.
A mind half occupied with itself is also only half available for anything else. And (almost) anything else is more pleasant.
The friend of excellence is simplicity. Its enemies are pride, pressure, duplicity, multiplicity, and distraction.
Good photography requires calm and humility
Art is better approached with humility. And an autobiographical blog post like this is therefore risky.
And so a vital confession…
I want to protect my ability to see, so I have to confess that I do not have this down, and I have a lot more to learn. I know these dynamics because I feel one or more of them pushing on me almost every time I go out with my camera.
Humility is a difficult virtue to cultivate. Any attempt to check on it can cause it to vanish. I don’t really understand how to do this. What I know is that if I forget the things I’m recording here, that imperils my ability to do this thing that I love.
It may sound negative to remind myself of my own fallibility, and it is — in the best way! It is freeing. I can get off unproductive trains of thought before they wreck.
That helps clear my head to be curious about what the moment holds. And the moment is almost always pretty good.
When I can forget myself, then I have a chance to see…
One way I have done that is to focus on daily practice. I hope to discuss some other tactics here soon. If you’ve made it all this way with me, thank you. I post images to Instagram, Twitter and Pinterest. I hope to see you there!