Sometimes to the point of getting distracted in thinking that one of the final goals of the image is the resolution, the correct exposure, the sharp focus, etc. I know that sounds like a reductionism. However, I also wake up from that siren's song and critically look at all these tools and technical knowledge as vehicles or means to build an image. [...]
I know this thread could lead to the already deadened debate about the best lens, the best developer, the best enlarger, the best resolution, etc. but it could also be another opportunity to think about the images I make, and why I make them. What helps me think outside the box. Without wanting to offend anyone's preferences, does it make sense to take another photo of the forest, the architecture of my town, etc? The answer is probably yes, but what lies beyond those contingent issues? Does anyone care to discuss these things here?
I think one issue I haven't seen mentioned is a process/product debate. Knitters, crocheters, and sewers will often ask each other "are you a process- or product-oriented [maker]?" Some process-oriented knitters, for example, will knit an entire object--a scarf, a sweater, whatever--and then rip the whole thing out and start again. They don't care about the end product, but the doing and making. Others want the end product and see the making as a means, a means that they want to get through as soon as possible.
I used to be much more product oriented, but that's changed over time, and I'm far more interested in the process now. This is true for all of my creative practices (textile arts, writing, photography, even my daily walks).
It's one of the reasons I like to take photos. I like the process of going out and noticing things. I like trying a different angle, deciding on the exposure, choosing which filters to use (or not), and so on. I will take multiple photos of the same thing, not in a spray and pray way, but in a "what's it look like from that angle, or if I sprawl out on my stomach, or if I..." It's about the
doing and experimenting. It's part of why I like working in a darkroom. Yes, I could send film out, but I ENJOY the darkroom work. I enjoy the time away from computers and screens, I enjoy the scent of it all, I enjoy losing track of time and being in the moment. The act of taking photos, of processing film, of making contact prints, and choosing which prints to make, of playing around--that's what matters
to me.
"Does it make sense to take another photo of the forest, the architecture of my town, etc?" It does to me, because I'm not taking photos for other people. I'm taking them for myself--and not so I can get the end product, a print--but because the
process itself matters to me.
(Hi. I made a few posts several years ago about building a darkroom and then never came back--the darkroom is built and I'm appreciative of the advice I've gotten--but I saw this topic and it drew me in.)