After a recent online conversation with a friend, I realized that the lesson I keep telling myself I learned and I have spoken freely about in the past has not been learned as successfully as I thought; in fact, I think I’ve failed!
I am not a robot, I told her. I can not shoot on command or autopilot. I need time to study a scene, to connect with nature, to feel. She felt the same way, of course. We were talking about being on a location and being able to produce images. The pressure to produce is there. Whether we give it to ourselves or it comes from external sources. We might be on an expensive trip, scouting, or just out shooting, but the expectation is to come back with something tangible and show that we in fact DID something, or that we can produce something.
I don’t know if this pressure has been exacerbated with the introduction of AI. Anyone now can produce images without actually being on location. They type a command into a computer, and voila, you have an image with all the “perfect” conditions. I have found myself thinking about how much this changes the whole creative experience. It is disheartening to see how much value is placed on AI and how much people rely on it. The creative process is almost undervalued. There is a vulnerability and joy in spending hours outside photographing while others sit on a couch in front of a screen and rely on a machine to deliver a technically flawless scene in seconds (won’t go on a tangent here)
Anyway, whether we admit it or not, I think we all go on these excursions intending to photograph and capture a set of images. The intention is either conscious or subconscious. I tell myself that I don’t have a specific goal in mind and I am open to whatever nature chooses to reveal to me.
The truth is that despite these reassurances, I notice the internal pressure building, that persistent nagging feeling that I need to produce something tangible. That inner battle is always going on within me. I imagine it like this. An angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other shoulder (I was raised Catholic, so this analogy fits). The angel says, “Relax, enjoy being out in nature! The devil says, “What are you doing?! You can’t simply wander and come back empty-handed.”
I am still learning to manage this internal tension. I know I need time to wander and explore freely.
I’m currently working on a small photo project. I go out to photograph with the intention of creating a set of images for it. However, the photos don’t just happen, even though I stubbornly try to force them; after all, I have the idea of what I want in my head, shouldn’t that automatically translate into an image? However, the images arrive only after I let go of the project entirely, relax, and allow myself to be present and immersed in nature. Sometimes, the images don’t arrive at all. Still, I don’t feel super stressed about it because in those moments, it’s less about making images and more about experiencing awe and calm and just being creative; my camera becomes an extension of my eye and hand, and I connect with nature.
When I am in this state of mind, I am exploring; I am not “looking” for photos. I see with my eyes but feel with my being (I know, it sounds a bit woo-woo); in this way, I connect with nature, and if I am lucky, something catches my interest and makes me want to look closer. I am curious about it; I think that is a huge part of photography. Being curious and being interested in your subject. It takes time to study a plant, a mushroom, the structure of a tree, and your composition. Perhaps this is why photography is often solitary. Photographers get lost between the viewfinder and their subject and forget everything else around them.
I’d love to hear your thoughts below.
