Here’s the deal: I’m a photographer.
Far as I can remember, it started on a family vacation to Hawaii when I was a freshman in college. I borrowed my mom’s point-and-shoot Nikon, turned it to macro mode, and took a closeup picture of an orange flower. It turned out well, and this gave me the first indication that “normal” people like me could make good pictures, not just glitzy New York professional photographers. It also made we want to do it again – I was hooked. Through stops in Dallas, Alaska, and now, Colorado, I gradually began taking more and more pictures, and committing to the idea of photography. I started with landscapes and wildlife, then moved to portraits, sports, and headshots. I moved from a simple point-and-shoot camera to my first entry level DSLR, then added a few aftermarket lenses, and eventually ended up with the professional setup I have now, with multiple camera bodies, strobes, light modifiers, radio triggers…the whole bit. Somewhere along the line, people started paying me to take photos, and only then did I start to call myself a photographer.
I share with you this long paragraph of establishing text for one reason: to prove that I enjoy taking photographs. Love it, actually. Wake up before sunrise just to do it sometimes. Occasionally walk out on to frozen lakes in January in Minnesota in sub-zero temperatures to take pictures in the dark. And so on and so forth.
I love photography and am drawn to its charms. Borderline addicted to the continuing challenge of learning more about it and making better images. It gets me going.
So, we good on that? Good. Because I have a suggestion:
Put the damn camera down.
Yes, a photographer asking you to stop taking so many pictures. To get out from behind the camera (phone). Not always. But sometimes. And on a regular basis. WAY more than you do now.
A week or two ago I mentioned something about the Minimalists, a blog/book I’d been reading about using less shit. Then in the last few days, I stumbled upon an old post by them about a concept I’d been thinking about for a while. It hit a chord and reminded me why I’ve been taking my camera along to fewer and fewer leisure activities lately.
“Aren’t you going to take a picture?” someone will ask, probably used to me setting up a tripod or running around hitting the shutter, or at least holding up my iPhone. Recently I’ve been telling them “no.”
“Why?”
Because I’m looking at it.
Whatever it is – a sunset, a mountain, a concert, a herd of wild boars – I realized that often times by focusing on getting the perfect shot, I was actually missing the scene itself. Even if I did end up with a good picture, I’d missed the live event. I was looking down at my camera, instead of appreciating the moment. Being present. Living. The aforementioned blog post sums it up well:
My desire to capture the moment actually ruins the moment. It makes it less beautiful, less real, and in many ways less photo-worthy.
Second, the “result” is artificial. Time doesn’t happen in this kind of take-and-retake way. We don’t get to re-do the experiences of our lives. And yet we take our pictures as if we can “get it just right.” It gives us a false sense of security, a sense that we can not only change the moment, but somehow save only its best parts.
It’s not going to stop taking pictures. Hell, I’m being paid to do it. BUT NO, seriously, it’s not about that. I’ll always take pictures for my own enjoyment – that’s how this photography thing started, and that’s the most important part of any art form or hobby; the stuff you do just because you love it, when you aren’t being paid. That’s when it’s the most real. And that won’t ever change for me. But I will be more deliberate about when I’m using my camera. Sometimes I’ll be the photographer, and sometimes I’ll just be an observer, and I think that’s a good balance.
So, give it a shot. BOOM, pun. Anyway, see if you like it. Leave your camera at home one day of the vacation. Leave your phone at home (GASP!) next time you go hiking. Or if that’s too crazy for you, just leave it in your pocket. You can do it; I believe in you. And where you’d usually put that sucker on panorama mode and shove your brother out of the way so he doesn’t ruin the shot, just…do nothing. Stand there and take it in. Be present. Make a memory instead of trying to manufacture one.
I think the smartphone thing has played a big role in creating the always-need-to-digitally-capture-anything-remotely-interesting world in which we’ve found ourselves. Now, we all have cameras in our pockets, virtually all the time. The barriers are removed, so we take pictures of everything, all the time, because of some idea that the moment is somehow less real or meaningful if we don’t have a 10 megapixel image to show people who weren’t there. But that’s the thing: sometimes, trying to “preserve” the moment is actually getting in the way of the moment. If I’m not making sense, maybe Louis CK will:
(Louie is, as always, NSFW/home/life, and wonderful.)