Breaking Things Loose and Keeping Things Fresh

Black and white barbed wire: am I creating, or just brooding? Does it matter?
Black and white barbed wire: am I creating, or just brooding? Does it matter?

I talk all the time on this site and on my personal site about creativity.

“If I take one more picture of a leaf, I’m going to explode” ~R. E. in 2015, about a creative rut he experienced.

Lately I’ve been social media friending a lot of photographers at bigger newspapers on the coasts. Their work is amazing and inspirational, but seems to flow from a different source: regattas, refugees, politics, enormous sports events, current affairs; they live in states that have counties bigger than Oklahoma, so it’s a different worldview just based on what we see every day. I look at their lives with some incredulity: how can you deal with millions of people, their noise, their traffic, their smell. I live in a town that has fewer people in it than the staff at the New York Times.

You can piss and pout all day about this not being original or groundbreaking, which it's not. It's an image I love of something I love. Done.
You can piss and pout all day about this not being original or groundbreaking, which it’s not. It’s an image I love of something I love. Done.

I caught a recent YouTube video from a channel called DigitalRev (“Rev” being “revolution” I guess) about photographic cliche’s to avoid. In it, he mentions just about every kind of photo. I’ve touched on this idea before, and it is this: in a world of literally billions of images being made every day, stop trying to reinvent the wheel and start trying to express yourself. It’s a subtle concept, but one worth merit.

Looking at the work of other photographers will make you chase your tail. It’s all been done to death. Don’t believe me? Do a web search for “Hong Kong at Night.” I’ll wait.

See? What can you add to that? Next, do a web search for “YOUR NAME in pictures.” Now, what can you add to that?

Finally, I know I’ve said this time and again, but it bears a lot of weight: you can’t buy mastery, you have to earn it. Trust me on this: when I take my pistol down to the pond and my first ten shots miss, there’s nothing wrong with my pistol.

Sometimes your camera can make you look great, if you're willing to let it. I made this exposure entirely by accident.
Sometimes your camera can make you look great, if you’re willing to let it. I made this exposure entirely by accident.

SaveSave

SaveSave