ChristopherCoy
Subscriber
A few weeks ago, I contacted a friend of mine and told her what I was going through. She's a fine art photographer, and a fabulous one. She suggested that I read the Daybooks, and I've started Volume 1, Mexico. I'm only 46 pages into this book and already I've had plenty to think about and contemplate.
I'm an alcoholic in recovery, and one of the biggest realizations I've made over the last few weeks was that my photographic career has very closely paralleled my life. Much in the way that I've never really finished anything in life, I've never really finished anything in photography either. Additionally, I've not ever really been satisfied with anything in my life, and the same with photography. No new car, new house, new thing could make me happy, and no new camera, new lens, or any amount of work produced could satisfy me.
It's been an eye opening experience to read that one of the great photographers struggled with some of the same things I, and I'm sure many others, struggled with. In his first show in Mexico, he had no work that pleased him. He wasn't happy with much of it. But still sold 8 or so prints, and people loved it! It was interesting to see how self critical he was.
It's getting to the point where he's starting to produce work with intent, instead of just portraiture for money, and on page 46 he mentions this:
"“Let me see, f8 1/10 sec, KI filter, panchromatic film - how mechanical and calculated it sounds, yet really how spontaneous and genuine, for I have so overcome the mechanics of my camera that it functions responsive to my desires. My shutter coordinating with my brain is released in a way as natural as I might move my arm. I am beginning to approach an actual attainment in photography that in my ego of two or three years ago I had thought to have already reached.”
I don't know why this paragraph resonated with me, but it struck me like a bag of bricks. I guess perhaps that I've changed gear so many times I've never allowed a tool to settle into the position of being an extension of me.
One of my new goals is to keep only one body and one lens with me, and put the others up (or sell them), and learn to shoot for a year with one lens. It is also one of my new goals to slow down and enjoy the process, as opposed to becoming completely consumed with it and obsessing over everything every single minute of the day.
I'm an alcoholic in recovery, and one of the biggest realizations I've made over the last few weeks was that my photographic career has very closely paralleled my life. Much in the way that I've never really finished anything in life, I've never really finished anything in photography either. Additionally, I've not ever really been satisfied with anything in my life, and the same with photography. No new car, new house, new thing could make me happy, and no new camera, new lens, or any amount of work produced could satisfy me.
It's been an eye opening experience to read that one of the great photographers struggled with some of the same things I, and I'm sure many others, struggled with. In his first show in Mexico, he had no work that pleased him. He wasn't happy with much of it. But still sold 8 or so prints, and people loved it! It was interesting to see how self critical he was.
It's getting to the point where he's starting to produce work with intent, instead of just portraiture for money, and on page 46 he mentions this:
"“Let me see, f8 1/10 sec, KI filter, panchromatic film - how mechanical and calculated it sounds, yet really how spontaneous and genuine, for I have so overcome the mechanics of my camera that it functions responsive to my desires. My shutter coordinating with my brain is released in a way as natural as I might move my arm. I am beginning to approach an actual attainment in photography that in my ego of two or three years ago I had thought to have already reached.”
I don't know why this paragraph resonated with me, but it struck me like a bag of bricks. I guess perhaps that I've changed gear so many times I've never allowed a tool to settle into the position of being an extension of me.
One of my new goals is to keep only one body and one lens with me, and put the others up (or sell them), and learn to shoot for a year with one lens. It is also one of my new goals to slow down and enjoy the process, as opposed to becoming completely consumed with it and obsessing over everything every single minute of the day.