Gazing out my window I watch the wind-whipped waves dance across the surface of the river, its cobalt blue waters reflecting the frigid, clear sky above. The wind howls fiercely, yet there is nary a snowflake in sight, either on the ground or in the air. And yet, not far from me winter is raging. Such are the vagaries of lake-effect snow, a weather phenomenon endemic to the Great Lakes region. It is forecast to continue until at least Sunday, but where I live will see nothing but freezing temperatures and wind. Sigh.
I have often said that winter is my favorite season for photography, but that is no longer true. It can be at times, when a fresh blanket of snow adorns the landscape, bringing with it all the beauty and wonder of winter. It simplifies the landscape, creating an aesthetic that suits my sensibilities. However, the last few years have seen too few snowfalls that are often quickly followed by milder temps and rain. Blame climate change or not, the result is the same. What is a nature photographer to do? Thankfully, there’s always writing.
In my workshops I profess that good images can be made under any conditions provided we allow ourselves to see and feel deeply enough. While technically true, the current conditions challenge that belief. The bare and snowless northern woods are a rather uninspiring sight in winter. The artist Chuck Close is famous for saying, “Inspiration is for amateurs; the rest of us just show up and get to work.” Bullshit, I say. I’m certain I’m not alone in thinking that inspiration is a key, if not the key, ingredient in creativity. It is the fuel that drives the creative impulse. Fortunately, inspiration can come in many forms. When the outside world doesn't appeal I find inspiration through reading or listening to music (especially the point when the piano comes in, so beautiful). Exposing myself to beautiful and creative art in any genre inspires and challenges me to be creative. If not with a camera then perhaps with words, or whatever other creative outlet you might enjoy. To be fair, Close’s assertion that the best ideas come out of the process is true. However, I find that inspiration must come before the work.
- - -
I recently experienced the eerie occurrence of two related yet different things happening independently in short order. Is it a coincidence, or is the universe trying to tell me something? The subject was awe, and the first occurrence was in an essay in Guy Tal’s latest book, Be Extraordinary in which he discusses the benefits of experiencing everyday awe. That evening, I stumbled upon a YouTube video also discussing awe that included the lovely sentiment, “Awe is all around us. With a little intentionality, we can reclaim our sense of wonder in the everyday, ordinary moments of life. Perhaps awe, while an ordinary response to the extraordinary, is also an extraordinary response to the ordinary.” As someone who primarily photographs the ordinary, perhaps I need to work harder at finding awe in the snowless landscape around my home.
- - -
Stop me if this sounds familiar. You visit a national park (or some other stunning, iconic locale) and upon arrival immediately feel anxious. It’s an anxiety born of the perceived need to produce at least a few worthwhile images to justify the expense of the trip. Exacerbating the anxiety is being overwhelmed by the countless photographic possibilities in a place you’ve never been before. So much beauty and so little time. Where to even begin? It’s only after a couple of days when you’ve pocketed a few images that you begin to relax. Hopefully, you reach the point where you have enough pictures to be satisfied. You breathe a sigh of relief. The trip is a success. Mission accomplished.
I used to be that photographer. I regarded such trips as first and foremost an image-making exercise. My wife and I spent a few days in Joshua Tree National Park over the Thanksgiving holiday while visiting southern California. I brought my backup camera and one lens, though I had little intention of doing serious photography. There was a time I wouldn't have been able to even conceive of such a scenario, so strong was my desire to make images. However, with my wife beside me and with limited time it was impossible to enter into the necessary mindset to make creative and personal images. I could have made pretty, scenic images, but I didn’t see the point. I was content to explore the unique beauty of the park with my wife. I didn’t miss making photos.
It’s a relief to no longer experience that type of anxiety. Altering my mindset didn’t happen overnight, it has taken years to change my approach to photography. I don’t share this to pat myself on the back or sound superior. Rather, I hope to bring awareness to our behavior and the reason(s) we photograph. Is it simply to compile heaps of images? Or does it go deeper than that? There is no correct answer, only that which is right for you.
Thank you for subscribing to my blog. If you know of others who may enjoy it as well please consider sharing it with them.
Comentarios