“Here I Made This Thing”
I started writing these words in mid-2020 and picked up the thoughts today. It’s a bit of a ramble, but stick with me if you’re interested.
I treasure the moments when I get a burst of happiness, a moment that makes me really feel alive. I don’t experience this as much as I’d like. When I do, it’s often a literal surge of endorphins during a challenging run, but sometimes I get it in other ways too: music; building honest connection with friends; petting a purring cat; listening to good comedy; and perhaps most importantly for this specific website, photography. All of these things - they are the things that will save me. The moments that make it all worth it, that make it feel OK. As such, they are all deeply important, but today I want to talk about photography, and the challenges I’ve had with seeing myself as an artist who is creating for joy.
For me, photography is often dual-purpose. Pictures of travel, of hiking, of hanging out with family and friends - it’s creating memories. The goal is to depict the thing as it was or how it felt with relative accuracy. To do that in a way that is also aesthetically pleasing takes some combination of practice, talent, and technical skill. I’ve worked hard to hone my skills here, and I have a lot of room to grow. Watching light, setting the right focus, composing the scene in-frame, adjusting settings in Lightroom to look just the way I want it to… it’s a fun and challenging process. The true goal is to put all of these together to create images that mean something, that evoke some kind of emotion for someone. This becomes even more important to me when I take photos outside of that “memory” category. I get nervous when I try for anything too different, whether in composition, subject matter, or post-processing. Especially post-processing; when I really play around here, I tend to regret it, looking back at past work as over-processed and bad.
Everyone knows that’s not what it looked like. Which means I chose to make it look that way. What if I chose wrong?
Before
After (too much?? I liked the steely blue tones here, but that might just be me!)
I’ve spent too much time overthinking color and photo processing. Stressing about doing a bad job. Often, I’m working with photos that maybe just weren’t that great to begin with. Which made me realize: what I’m missing in my thought process here is that just about every photo I take with intention exposes the same vulnerability. I chose to compose the photo, I chose to hit the shutter at that moment, I chose the photo from my camera roll and put it on the internet (oh, and I chose to write these words! I’m not particularly articulate so this is hard!) A lot of people aren’t going to like my choices.
That’s the danger, of course. Creating (and to a greater extent sharing) art requires vulnerability. A leap of faith for someone who wasn’t trained in this. I want there to be An Answer; One Way to create the thing I want to create; But there isn’t. It’s infinite and overwhelming, so yes, when I create something, it is a pure showcase of the choices I made. I’m not exactly great at putting myself out there. I hate taking risks and exposing myself, lest I get overwhelmed with shame when I realize the mistakes I’ve made.
So why do I even do it?
No the sky was not green.
I didn’t have much of an answer in 2020 when I started drafting this post. On one hand, quite simply, I enjoy photo editing! It is a fun way to pass the time, to take new photos and to paw through oldies; to refine my collection and to update the content I share. That should be enough. I don’t need to be good, I just need to enjoy it. This should have been obvious, but for many years it really wasn’t. Whenever I would feel like my work wasn’t up to snuff (a thing I felt often), I would spiral downward with thoughts that this was a waste of time. Even when I felt fairly proud of something I made, I worried that no one else would like it, and therefore it was still a waste of time.
I didn’t give up. Over the years, I’ve continued to invest in my development, every time I buy photography equipment or pay for website hosting. However, my biggest investments were in late 2020 and 2022, when I took some online photography classes. The first class I took is called “Editing for Artists” and it helped me on so many levels. I learned better ways to process my photos, with knowledge to back up my choices. (Such as color theory! A real thing!) There are, in fact, correct answers in art, or at least guiding principles. Some are intuitive, some are not. However, the most meaningful conversations in Editing for Artists didn’t center around honing specific skills but in how to allow space to be creative; to feel that it is worth the time and effort. The instructor reminded me that it wasn’t really about the end result; the process should be what brings us joy. This is true of everything. Running. Work. Relationships! Photography. I also learned to think of myself as an artist, a difficult thing for my calculating brain to accept. (Just don’t call my work “artsy”).
Focusing on the process has led me to be more accepting of previous work. If I look back on things I’ve created and cringe…well, that’s a sign that I’m growing or changing (desireable!). This doesn’t make the old work bad or a waste of time. I was learning when I created it, and I’m still learning today. This is me, where I am today, with what I feel today. Maybe you connect with it; maybe you don’t. The process of creating gave me a little jolt of joy and that is worth Everything.
Similarly, these words are just where I am today. I will continue to develop and grow, and I’m positive my opinions will shift. Right now, I’m searching for the balance between finding the space for change and improvement, while zeroing in on my own style and owning it. I’m still undecided on the extent that I market photography as a service, or if I continue to do this solely for fun. It is another level of challenging to create for others, especially for a fee, and I do want to continue to challenge myself. But I also want this to remain a deeply personal thing that does not bring as many feelings of shame or inadequacy.
Words from someone else, paraphrased: Don’t create for everyone, there will always be people who do not like what you are making. Create for a small subset of people and you will build connection with those people.
Or create for you and only you - that’s okay, too.
love,
april
Song of the Day: Latter Days (feat Anais Mitchell) by Big Red Machine