creativity

May

2013

At Work In The Work

Life brings its seasons, on its own time, on its own terms. We humans challenge that, don’t we? We, I, would like nothing better than to control the terms of life – at least to a great extent. But here we are, at the whim of the vagaries of life. It can be a rocky path.

These days my photography is a challenge. It isn’t flowing to my satisfaction. I am not flowing to my satisfaction. And so the rewards of making images – those feelings of success, the accolades, the sense of satisfaction, are lacking, wanting. It is a frustrating time. It is also a time of questioning my reasons for photographing.

Do I photograph for accolades, for those positive feelings? Honestly, much of the time I do. But that is a risky proposition. For then my continued photography rests in large part on the good graces and expressed good feelings of others in response to it. Is that really how I want my art form (whatever that truly is?) to be dependent on an external locus of control? Or is photographing, and art in general, really supposed to be the expression of an internal response to life, a reaction to life and its mysteries, joys, heartaches, and wonder?

Of late my web presence has decreased significantly. I am posting less, social media-ing less, and being much more selective with my inputs. Work and family commitments have dictated this in large part, but it was time really. I strongly recognize the importance of managing one’s inputs as it has an enormous impact on one’s life. And I have chosen to be more choosey with my inputs, encouraging myself to select higher art forms like well regarded photography, fine art, fine literature, really creative movies, good music, better food. The changes have been significant in a short period of time.

But a word of warning should you choose to embark on such a journey as well – you might well become disappointed in your efforts at your own photography, at your own art. Higher levels of input let you know where you stand; higher art shows you exactly where you are mediocre. It takes some fortitude to face this. It can be a tipping point. This is the point where some push on, strive, grasp higher, tenaciously hang on for the long term. This is also the point where many pack it in, throw in the towel, quit.

Time for some grit.

Feb

2013

Sketches: Gone Fishin’

A two-fer here today as I play with the way I present these sketches and work through what I am photographing and presenting. A good friend asked a couple of weeks ago about these sketches and why I consider them so. In truth, I consider them sketches because I am trying things. I am trying things out in the field capturing the images, and I am trying things in terms of presenting the images. And I am learning, curiously learning; making stuff. To my mind, this is the process of art, no?

So today, an image – in color – harvested (pardon the pun) from a long series of images made on President’s Day as we spent the day with two neighbor families fishing at Isleta Lakes on the Isleta Tribal Pueblo here in NM. Following the color image is a series I shot with my iPhone and Hipstamatic’s app telling the little story of the day in broad strokes. Let me know what you think. I am playing with storytelling, both in single images and in series of images, and I am limited in my photographing explorations by the necessities of my family. So I do what I can, sometimes wishing I had more time to photograph, but grateful that, as I was reminded, I get to do my hobby all the time….! True that. It is the limits that forges the creativity after all.

The series below you may have seen already if you follow me on Twitter or Instagram as I posted the individual images over the course of the day. Here it is again with two additional images to round out the series. I attempted to capture the cooking process (stuffing the fish with garlic, lemon and herbs, and grilling them in foil) without much success. To my mind that is missing from this series. Lesson learned.

Jan

2013

Sketches: Brothers

A bonus treat today for you: a two-fer! While I haven’t stated it publicly, these sketches on Wednesdays are an opportunity for me to practice a necessary – and very important skill – in photography: that of the edit. Edit, that is, in terms of selection rather than post-processing. These Wednesday posts offer an opportunity to ruthlessly edit my work, my play, down to one meaningful image. A little glimpse of irony perhaps, or something representative of New Mexico, of culture, of fitting in, of not fitting in, or a glimpse into my life, or your life.

I struggle with these edits. What should I show in this one image this week? What is worthwhile? And why, once the choice is made, this image?

It hurts throwing out images. This is a painful process. But it is necessary. Arriving at good images requires it. By throwing out the chaff ruthlessly we come to the wheat; the good stuff. There will be a few, I think. Not many, but a few. I am curious about those.

Today, a glimpse into my life. Brothers. A theme I have my eye on as these young brothers grow their relationship. I am curious how it will play out for them. I am curious what I can record for them. A bonding. A sharing. Differences. Similarities. Shared experiences.

Apr

2012

Do What You Can

The problem with being a creative is not always the lack of ideas; the problem with being a creative is sometimes too many ideas. Ted Orland, in Art and Fear, a book he co-wrote with David Bayles, mentions that often times the problem is better identified as a lack of creative discipline regarding the ideas. We get overrun by them and they can get it the way of actually creating and completing projects.

The other day I complained to my wife that I hadn’t had enough time to go out and photograph what I wanted. Her reply was not what I expected. Nor was it what I wanted to hear, “yeah, but you’re getting better at shooting what you CAN shoot…!!”

Ouch, but true!

What she meant was I was getting better at photographing our kids and our family life. She’s right. If I keep at something, keep studying, keep applying myself, learn new techniques and ways of seeing or interpreting, the images get better – mostly because I get better as a photographer and editor. And that means something.

All of us are limited by our life situation. We like to think we are free, and we like to yearn for more freedom. But we are as free as we are and lots can be done with that. The challenge often is not necessarily to strive for greater freedom, for greater access, for more time, for more gear, for more, for more…; rather the challenge is to focus on what is possible. To dream what is possible where others might not see it.

There is a story I heard years ago about a woman in India who was revered as a meditation teacher. Early in her life she had married and her husband forbade her to practice formal meditation. She acquiesced. But still she somehow practiced. When asked much later in her life about how she managed to develop such strong meditative practices and such great inner peace without formal practice she answered, as many meditation teachers will, with a question: “what is meditation?”

Her students dutifully responded, “the practice of paying attention in this moment and this moment only.”

She then continued, “and so, when I stirred the rice, I stirred the rice; When I swept the floor I swept the floor; and when I ate, I ate.”

She did what she could with what she had, and she perfected her practice.

What can you do in this moment, in this situation, to practice photography despite your situation? What can you do without changing anything externally, but rather turning your attention to what you CAN do. Can you focus there? (Pun not intended.)

I can’t always photograph what I want to photograph, but I sure can photograph what is available to me. And can you guess which option will actually result in an image – perhaps even a good one?

Nov

2011

On Being Vulnerable in the Creative Process

I watched a TED.com video a while ago. It was recommended by David duChemin in an article when he was talking about how to stop trying to sell through social media and rather attempt to connect with others. I usually try to follow David’s recommendations because, to me, he feels really connected. He feels connected to his readership and students; he feels connected to the photographic world at large through his social media outlets; he feels connected to the people he photographs for NGO organizations. But mostly I imagine him to be connected with himself, his life, and how life is.

Why do I imagine this? Well, it comes from something Brene Brown mentioned in that TED.com talk (see below for the embeded video). During her talk she mentioned that joy, happiness, contentment, comes from feeling connected with others; feeling as if we matter to another; that we belong and have a place in the world. And, she makes the point that to feel connected with others and with ourselves we need to be able to tolerate being vulnerable.

Now, vulnerability, as I see it, is tied to some very strong emotions, the strongest among them being fear, but also involving anxiety and shame. These are challenging emotions for many and our mental health hospitals and counseling offices are filled with people attempting to come to terms with them. (I know, my day job is in the mental health field and I deal with these emotions in others and in myself on a daily basis.)

What does all this have to do with the creative process? Well, that also comes from something Brene Brown mentioned in the video: Life is messy. Life does not go according to plan; others fail to live up to our expectations; the world betrays us at times; things are unfair; we are crippled by our own fears and doubts. Often times life just lines up according to its own-maddening-set of rules and we are often left feeling as if we weren’t given a playbook-let alone a rule book. As a result, living, and being creative, requires a large measure of courage. Courage to face our creative process in all its messiness. Courage to try things that don’t seem easy and have a high failure rate. We require the courage to be vulnerable in the face of those that would criticize our work and our efforts; the courage to dive into a creative endeavor without the promise of success at any step along the way.

And yet it is necessary, this thing called vulnerability. It is a necessary step in the creative process; it is a necessary step in connecting with others; and it is a necessary step in coming to terms with living this human life contentedly, happily, joyfully. It is a necessary part of the process in creating anything really: from new business venture to creative scrapbook, from professional power-point presentation to your wedding photobook. We throw ourselves headlong into the abyss of the unknown future with little more than a blind faith that we will be alright in the end. This is vulnerability and we are swimming in a sea of it called living. We do not create anything new by playing it safe.

So, what do you want to create? One image? A dozen? A series? A book? A canvas? An ebook perhaps? Some stock images? Do you want to create a photographic business? Do you want to create a notebook to give to others? Or perhaps a calendar? All of these involve risk: the risk of being rejected, hurt, embarrassed. All of these can also include the risk of being successful. And yet, there it is. That is what we must face.

Sep

2011

New Craft & Vision eBook: The Inspired Eye, Vol. 3

David duChemin has been a tear these past three years or so. For a man who has chosen a visual medium as his profession he has also proven to be quite the writer and penning 4 print books and numerous ebooks as well as regular posts on his blog, www.pixelatedimage.com. Today he release the third and final ebook in his “The Inspired Eye” ebooks, The Inspired Eye, Vol. 3

Ever since coming across a copy of “Within The Frame” in my favorite local-and now closed(!)-Borders book store I have always enjoyed David’s writing. He writes about matters close to my heart and does so with eloquence and humor-though he would spell that “humour.” He tends to focus not on the “how to” of photography but rather on the “why” of photography. This book, and this series, focus on creativity: it’s joys and it’s challenges.

Having ridden some creative highs in the past few years, experienced the challenges of creativity overflow (too much going out with not enough coming in), as well as a personal low through physical injuries, surgery and months of rehab, David knows about the rewards and challenges of the creative life. And he pours it into this book.

Filled with humor, anecdotes, quotations, images shot mostly on his iPhone, and sound, soulful advice and direction, this book encourages us to take action on our creative path and warns against pitfalls along the way. Drawing from his own personal experience as well as the wisdom of creative people from history David weaves a wonderful read with a motivating and encouraging voice. I recommend it.

Special Sale:

you can get The Inspired Eye 3 for $5, or $4 if you use coupon code EYETHREE4 before Saturday, September 24 at 11:59pm (PST). As always during these launch discounts, you can get 5 for the price of 4, this time the discount code is EYETHREE20.

You can also get the entire The Inspired Eye bundle for $12. Volumes 1 & 2 have new covers but the content remains unchanged. Just visit the Craft & Vision store.

Sep

2011

On The Hunt (on not turning your photographic subject into prey)

I can’t help but keep noticing the language we photographers like use when describing photographing: shoot, shot, capture, get, take. Sounds a little violent, doesn’t it? With this crowd I feel a bit like a hunter.

I think it comes from a mindset that the world is out there and I need to go get it, take it, capture it, shoot it. It is a predatory mindset. I understand it and I know it is part of the nature of photography. I also think we need to be careful. Predatory mindsets are singularly focused and tend to dehumanize and devalue its prey (whether human, animal, vegetable, or other). Predatory mindsets tend to decrease the respect felt for the object. In photography, as in hunting, the value the subject becomes decreased to only the value that the photographer gives it, not its inherent value, or the value to itself. I know this is not what most photographers intend, but it happens. A lot.

Eli Reinholdsten’s recent post about photographing alone together reminded me of this dilemma. Have you ever been out on a photographic excursion (notice I resisted the urge to write “out on a shoot…” 😉 with other photographers and you find someone interesting to photograph. You ask them if you can and they agree. Then suddenly 5 people are shooting over your shoulder like paparazzi. They are of course paying you a compliment on your sharp eye that discovered such a wonderful subject, and they are trying to get “their” shot at the expense of you and your subject’s agreement. I know I’ve been guilty of this as much as I’ve had it happen to me.

The result often is a startled subject and less than optimal photographs. In that moment of frenzied ~~shooti~~… er, photographing, the subject has been reduced down to an object, the person and their contract with the original photographer has not been respected, and the original photographer’s effort and intent has been passed over. In that moment the quarry was hunted without so much as an afterthought.

I wonder if we could, collectively, begin to speak (and think) of photography in a more collaborative way? Less shooting, taking, and capturing, and more making, co-creating, representing. What if we looked upon photography as a gift to the subject rather than to ourselves and the world.

To get an idea of this put yourself in front of the camera. Notice how you feel. Notice how you are treated, interacted with, respected (or not.) It can be a very subtle thing, but it will infuse the photograph with your soul, or not. That will depend how safe you feel in front of the photographer’s lens. And that depends to what degree you feel like prey.

Aug

2011

The World Is Your Oyster (or some pitfalls of this wonderful world)

This is a wonderful time! This is a wonderful time to be a photographer! The digital age, with its cameras, Photoshop, Lightroom, plugins, widgets, websites, apps, wordpress, blogs, FaceBook, Twitter, Google+, has allowed us to connect and share faster, with greater accuracy, and with a broader reach than ever before. Lest we take it for granted it would do us some good to remember that this is a wonderful time for photography.

This is also a challenging time. There is so much available to us so quickly that we can be at risk for developing an inability to tolerate disappointment, boredom, or frustration. This ability to tolerate uncomfortable mood states is an important skill that we begin to learn early in life provided we have some good mentoring through attuned caregivers. Parents will recognize this as the tantrum throwing ages of 2 or 3 when each little disappointment becomes a major crisis for a while. Eventually we learn that small disappointments are different from large ones and, hopefully, we stop “losing it” every time something does not go our way.

The challenge, however, is to continue learning this skill in smaller and more subtle ways as we continue our journey through life. Our current “distraction available at every turn” world threatens us gently, time and again, with the reward of distraction from discomfort rather than encouraging the tolerance of it.

And this threatens our art.

That LCD on the back of the camera offers much distraction in the form of chimping or learning our internal camera settings that it just might detract us from developing the patience to watch the light slowly change over a landscape. The computer, that wonderful device that has opened this whole new world, threatens to distract us through Twitter, FaceBook, Google+ing from sitting and focusing on our editing, book-making, working efforts. (I was made vibrantly aware of this just the other evening…and as a result my latest Blurb.com book remains uncompleted.)

All hope is not lost however; we continue to have dominion over our own minds for the time being. Just becoming aware of our tendencies, and the tendencies of our continued connection to Web2.0, can do wonders in making mindful choices to focus on what will actually feed our soul, nurture our creativity, and produce the work that is precious to us and-I would argue-to the world.

How have you found yourself distracted from your goals, projects, or photography? Stay tuned for another blog post on some ideas how to overcome “distraction-itis.”

Jun

2011

Turn Around and Photograph What Is Around You

My horse, Cometa, and I nap in the middle of a long day. Photo courtesy of my wife, Ana Aragon de Miller

I have been watching other photographers, local friends mostly, as they move through their process in photography. Readers of this blog will recognize I’m particularly attracted to the creative process and how that works out psychologically. Watching my friends, and myself, struggle with the creative process in photography is endlessly fascinating for me. One struggle I have observed many of us go through is what I call, the “loss of subject matter” phase.

The process can go something like this: 1) the person gets enamored with images and image making; 2) the person becomes enamored with and buys a “good” camera; 3) they take pictures of everything and everyone; 4) eventually they get a bit better and become more selective about what they shoot; 5) they begin to grow disenchanted with their subject matter-it isn’t as interesting as it once was-it has been done before-it is old hat; 6) eventually they can feel like there isn’t anything local that they want to photograph and they need to travel to get that feeling back.

Not everyone experiences it in this way, but it is fair to say that many of us find the distant and unknown more exotic to photograph than the local and known. Henri Cartier-Bresson, that heralded pioneering photographer, once said,

“To interest people in faraway places-to shock them, delight them-is not too difficult. But the most difficult thing is in your own country. You know too much….when it’s your own block, with such a routine, it’s quite difficult to get. When it’s places I go to all the time-I know too much and not enough and to be lucid about it is the most difficult.”¹

And yet, who better to tell the local stories than those of us who live right here? Whether it is Howard County, Maryland or Albuquerque, New Mexico, or Lubbock Texas, stuff happens there, interesting stuff happens there. I will venture that if you start looking, really looking, you will find something interesting right where you are. David duChemin recently encouraged people to pass on buying new gear and put the money toward buying plane tickets. That is great advice. After all, it’s not in the gear that you will find great images. But it is also not really in photographing more exotic places that you will become a better photographer. Becoming a better photographer happens by seeing with newer and better eyes, and using the camera at hand to depict your vision of what is presented before you. What better place to start than in your own town?

Cartier-Bresson, in the quote above, said he knew “too much and not enough” about the places with which he was familiar. I know it is the same for me. How about you? What if we were to get curious about where we live? Can we really effectively tell the stories of distant lands when we cannot see and tell the stories of our own land?

What is it you don’t know enough about in your neck of the woods? What stories are there that are just begging to be told? Explore what you know about where you live and go deeper than you’ve gone before; explore what you do not know. Challenge your assumptions about your environment (yes, you do have them!) and look deeper at the people living there, their habits, their customs, their celebrations, their losses. What draws you in? What repels you? Provided you will be safe enough, can you explore those subjects that give you a negative reaction as well as those that you are attracted to? There is a landscape, a people (or several), a history, a culture, nature, in everyone’s home town; what is the visual story of that place.

Turn around, get curious about the place you live. It is fine to long for travel and adventure but, if you’re anything like me, you’ll spend most of your days at home. And I believe that is an interesting place. You are more qualified to tell that story than I am as I just past through and skim the surface.

PS. I got totally jazzed about photographing where I live after I started thinking in this way and, wouldn’t you know it, opportunities have begun presenting themselves to me. So, I’ve got a fun one in the works that I hope turns out. Stay tuned. I don’t want to give anything away but I’m really jazzed to photograph this.

PPS. Oh, and for some additional help with making photographs “close to home” check out Stuart Sipahigil’s wonderful ebook. Aptly titled “Close to Home”, it is available for purchase through the good folks at Craft & Vision.

¹. This quote is taken from this video featuring Henri Cartier-Bresson’s work and comments on it that was up on vimeo for a while but has since been taken down. The DVD is available on www.icp.org. The direct link to the video store page is here.

Jun

2011

In Defense of Mindlessness

: Shelter

I was listening to a podcast recently where Matt Brandon was interviewing David duChemin. It was a wonderful interview. I find Matt to be a skilled interviewer, weaving his own opinions gently into the conversation with the interviewee and thereby making meaningful discussions worth listening to. Matt was fully engaged in this interview as well, as was David.

David appears to be a wonderful man and I have to say I have very much enjoyed reading his books, ebooks, and blog posts as he manages to be courageous enough to discuss those aspects of the photographic world that just rile him up. This interview is no different and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

During the course of the interview, while attempting to make a point, David mentioned that part of his goal is to encourage people to photograph more mindfully. And that got me thinking…

Now, before I start my rant, allow me this one disclaimer: I love mindfulness. I’ve studied Buddhist and Hindu forms of mindfulness training; I’ve applied it to my personal, professional, and spiritual life; I have to say that mindfulness has turned my life around and is responsible for its positive direction at this time. I’m all for it. I love it. And I understand and support what David is trying to do regarding how photographers photograph. But are we in danger of tossing mindlessness in the trash bin because it is the flip side of the mindful/mindless coin?

Now, another note before I continue: I think some defining clarity is in order. When I speak of Mindlessness I am using the term in a very specific way. Mindlessness to me is not Distractedness. Distractedness, as I define it, is the state of having our attention taken away from the present to something else: smartphones, iPads, TV, daydreaming, that sort of thing. Mindlessness, to me, is different from Distractedness in that it is the state of being fully present but not actively thinking. It is a state of being observant, aware, present, engaged, receptive, responsive.

To my way of thinking this is a state of openness and receptivity that should be highly prized in creative circles. Think “being in the flow” or “being in the zone.” Mindlessness is a state of effortless ease in the moment of great effort; a time of clarity in the midst of confusion. It is, I believe, the time when we are most receptive to the whispers of the muse. It is, therefore, a state worth cultivating.

But what of mindlessness? Is it getting a bad rap? Is it getting a rap at all? Is it even on the radar? The image above is my example of Mindless photographing. My friends and I had snowshoed out to this stone house on the summit ridge of the Sandia Mountains outside of Albuquerque and I had a good time making a few images of the house. I’d thought through my exposure settings and aperture settings; I’d visualized the final outcome of the image given the cloud we were in and the contrast between the snow, trees, and stone; I’d worked out and photographed from several vantage points. In short, I’d been mindful about photographing my subject. Finished with my images I’d put my camera in my pack and started to sling that pack onto my shoulders when I noticed the cross-country skier heading up to the house.

In that moment, with my pack half slung, I had a familiar feeling. It was a feeling just like the days, years earlier, when I raced bicycles full time: after all the training and analyzing of my competition, my gearing, my heart-rate, the wind, the terrain and we were whizzing down the race course, that a voice in my head both shouted and whispered “NOW!” When I listened to the voice I always ended up in the winning breakaway. When I didn’t listen I was left to watch that winning breakaway ride away from the main field of riders, leaving me to duke out the minor placings against a much larger contingent of riders.

“NOW” that voice whisper/screamed in my ear. For a moment I hesitated…almost too long. But that feeling, and my state of Mindlessness, allowed me to be responsive to what I can only consider the Muse. As I ripped open my pack, and the camera bag stuffed inside, I followed the skier with my eyes, “seeing” the image in my mind’s eye as it was beginning to take form in front of me. As the camera came up the aperture was set matching shutter speed to ensure good depth of field while freezing the action-all without thinking about it. He wasn’t slow, this skier, so only one moment was possible and when the right pose was struck at the right spot the exposure was made.

I’m quite sure I didn’t make this photograph. That came from somewhere else. While being in my Mindless place I allowed the Muse to work through me-or at least I didn’t hinder the process with my active mind.

It is an odd thing to trust this process. It takes a measure of courage to do so. After all, we’ve spent a lot of time and energy learning this craft. We’ve put countless hours into understanding exposure, aperture, composition, white balance, ISO settings. After all that time and conscious thought and effort to learn, understand, focus, and execute mindfully how do we trust that this explicit knowledge has somehow become implicit and will flow out of ourselves from a place in ourselves beyond thought. Surrendering to the Muse might be an uncomfortable idea for some, but I am making the argument now that this is a place and experience of great beauty and out of which much of what is true and honest about art and creativity is born. I am suggesting that we might give ourselves over to another force while making images Mindlessly. It might seem odd at first but after a few tries, when you feel the flow, you will know.

For more on the subject but perhaps with different words check out the latter section of Steven Pressfield’s book, “The War of Art” and Elizabeth Gilbert’s presentation on the muse at TED.com.

Listen to Matt Brandon’s interview with David duChemin HERE