True to my style I will try to do something new photographically on subsequent visits to a well explored location. While not technically a new technique for me, I decided to work on some infrared photography, particularly in the Hasselblad. It has been a while since I have done much infrared and even longer since I have done much in 120. And I believe I could count the number of rolls of infrared I had shot in 120 on one hand. So that was the direction I went in.
On a related note, this will not be the last infrared you see from me this year but the odds are decent that the next images you see will be in full colour. But that is all the tease I am giving you for now.
A thought to share today as I was reminded of this recently… it’s simple: don’t introduce your work by apologising for it. Put another way, don’t show your images and then tell everything that’s wrong with it. This happens a lot, and mostly with novice photographers who have not yet developed a level of comfort with the presentation of their photography with others. By pointing out the flaws in your image before your audience can point them out, I guess you maintain some sense of control over it. Or maybe it is harder to hear that criticism from others, so you deliver it yourself. Or our work is so deeply personal and we have a tendency to focus on our shortcomings. Also this doesn’t seem as pervasive in other art forms. I don’t think I have ever heard a painter, writer or sculptor telling everything they did wrong, or didn’t do right. There might be something to ponder there…
It is good to be able to look at your images and see how they could be better or different. In fact, the day you look at your photography and think the photos are perfect is the day you should panic. The trick though is to learn how to let your photographs be what they are, and to present them as such, and then to listen carefully to what others think they are. You take that feedback and weigh it against your initial assessment and see what you have at that point. It is not an easy process to learn… or maybe it is just not a short process to learn. Or both. But that is my advice and encouragement for today.
Let someone start believing in you
Let him hold out his hand
Let him touch you
And watch what happens
The goal isn’t the pictures… it isn’t even to make the pictures. The photographs just happen and are a by-product of what I am really doing.
But what exactly is that? I don’t know that I can adequately explain it. I suppose in a certain sense my pictures tell that story, but I think sometimes the audience tends to fixate on the picture itself, the artefact or object, and not the underlying reasons for that image’s existence. I don’t think I share images because I want to share the image. In a weird way I don’t really care about the picture. It is far less important to me than why I made the picture, and I suppose that is what I try to share when I share images. It is also why I am never quite comfortable accepting praise regarding the images I make. I appreciate the thoughts behind it, but it feels like it either misses the point that was driving me, or subverts the meaning of what I was doing slightly. If that makes any sense. There is something deeply spiritual for me when I stand there in ancient woods. I can talk about it, or write about it (as these are natural things to want to do when something moves you on such a level) but one of the other forms of communication I am effective at is photography, so it is also natural for me to want to communicate via imagery. The photograph is just the vehicle. But if you were to linger a bit more on the spiritual aspect of it, I could comment that the photograph is an idol of sorts, and the worship of an idol versus that larger entity which the idol represents… Yes, I know, it is all a bit out there and weird to describe it this way, but at the moment they are the best words I have to describe something whose description has long eluded me. I am not critical of enjoying a photograph, but at the same time I am aware that there is something much better worth admiring above and beyond that photograph. At least that is how I feel when it comes to my photographs.
These are the days, the time is now
There is no past, there’s only future
There’s only here, there’s only now
This had actually been an image I had tried to make before. My attention was caught by the curve of the treeline and the distance trail of light. It was one of those quiet kind of photos that I like to make. But it was a dark scene and on that particular outing my intuition in terms of exposure was off. The resulting image was too thin to use. I actually forgot about it pretty quickly. I have underexposed too many photos to remember. Overexposed too many as well. Heck, properly exposed even more, and far too many to recount. And that is how it goes. You make images, some turn out, some don’t. Sometimes you make mental notes and sometimes you don’t. I didn’t think much of it until a recent expedition saw me standing in the same spot. I had forgotten about this image til I looked through the trees and there it was… not like an old friend but more like someone you met once whose face you recognise even if their name eludes you immediately. So I went at it again, this time remembering that my initial attempt had suffered underexpose. So I took my gut instinct and doubled it, or something like that… intuition piled upon intuition. It was a tricky scene to estimate because the lake was so dark, but that is why I like film. It generally tends to cast a kinder eye on guess work or tricky scenes like this.
Anyway, I like the result. It captures a bit of that isolation and quiet solitude that one feels standing up here.
and the causalities of winter.
Just a simple image of the Woods bordering the cool waters of the lake at Saint Aignan. I got out there for a quick trip recently which was really just about the fresh air and stretching of legs. Of course, the scenery was beautiful… it is always beautiful out there. And those are the moments that photos like this get made. Images that aren’t trying to be any grand statement on art, but simple reflections of simple beauty.
I saw this open window making sure that I knew where to look. In truth, I was trying to look everywhere as it was a beautiful spot to be. So I appreciated this subtle direction as to where I should focus.
Nothing’s going to happen unless you take a risk
Bonjour postie. If only you knew the excitement you bring when you hand over a parcel with this logo.