Photographing Through the Cypress © Jay Goodrich

With the announcement of our new website last week, I discussed changing directions. About taking your current status quo and trying to explore new avenues with your photography. Wonderful, right? There is a catch here though, and that is becoming open to the change. You can decide to go for it, decide you can make images in another discipline, but the bottom line is, regardless of your decision, you are going to need to become much more aware of your current surroundings in order to achieve it. And in reality, it’s not even about awareness, but a conscious effort or training even.

Anyone can post the sign “Professional Photographer” at their front door. There is no test that has to be passed. You do not need to go to school for any kind of degree. Hell, you don’t even need to have a closet full of equipment. The reality though, is that you wouldn’t get very far, because in today’s society, people only want to work with people who can prove their experience. In another thought too, you wouldn’t even know how to take a picture if you were that far removed from your title. I am assuming that we can agree that it is not a lack of experience here, at least for what you currently focus on, no it is about stepping into different waters.

You have experience and knowledge, you just don’t have experience and knowledge in the subject you are about to immerse yourself into. So what will it take to get that experience? It will take time and it will take training. This training doesn’t need to be formal though, it can be experience driven. You can take the knowledge you already have and build upon it. Photograph and study, then adjust, then photograph some more. Eventually you will have the experience. It is in that experience then that you will have the consciousness to achieve. Why? Because once you have enough experiences, your brain transforms. It begins to talk to you instead of you talking to it.

When this little switch occurs, you notice things that you may not have noticed before. All of a sudden your level of seeing escalates beyond were you were an hour ago, a day ago, or even a year ago. It is at this point that you realize that heading out into any photographic situation with a preconceived idea is almost ludicrous. Unless of course you have planned and sketched the whole image out, and you are building the concept from the ground up. This holds true for much of the commercial photography out there.

The shot I have included in this post is the proof of this building block scenario. I changed directions for my new website. This took me out of my comfort zone and had me photographing things that I barely touched upon before. The trial and inexperience period happened fast only because I already had the building blocks of creativity laid prior with an architecture degree and fifteen years of photographing. None the less, it was hard to take an image with a person in it, that wasn’t doing something visually exciting – mountain biking, skiing, etc. Fast forward six months – my eyes, brain, and motor skills are teed up in search of these scenarios now. So when I was photographing an abstract of some trees along the coast of California during a workshop last week, my mind was on the lookout.

When one of our participants walked into my composition, I pounced. I shot something that I would have never seen a year prior because my brain would not have possessed the training to look. I would have probably asked her to move out of the scene. And the beauty of the whole situation is that none of the other people standing next to me realized I took the image, until they saw it at the end of the workshop. Go ahead and change directions, but make sure that when you do, you become open to as many situations in your surroundings that your brain will allow you to go after. Your image making skills will definitely show for it.

A Tent of Mountain Bikers © Jay Goodrich

No, I am not talking about the World Wide Web or a new website I am going to launch to be a show stopper, like some of the upcoming Apple Products that were announced yesterday. I am in fact talking about photography and the image making process. I think we as photographers have a tendency to forget some of the simplest of ideals when we are photographing. Usually because the excitement of what is happening before our eyes clouds our vision. By attempting to keep site of these ideals, we become more successfully honed artists and in-turn can send a clear perspective out into the world. (This week’s photograph is viewable larger by just clicking on it so you can see more of what is going on.)

So if I am not talking web crap, what am I talking about? Simple. Where. What. Why. If you keep these three Ws in mind every time you trip your shutter, you will more likely than not create a successful photograph. Of course there are exceptions to every rule, so let’s consider this another guideline to better yourself as a photographer.

Where. Where in the world is this photograph taken? Wait that is not a gimme Jay, you said make it obvious. Record needle scratch here. Not obvious, but in there. The more your viewer has to look to try and deduce answers, the longer they will view. The longer they view, the more successful the image. Stuck to the brain and people return. So look. What do you see in the photo? The focus is on a rider. A rider who is behind some muddy and obviously wet cycling clothes. He’s eating something. Standing next to a propane heater. It’s dark out. All clues yet, not giving you the answer. Then in the foreground, a bike, a really muddy bike. It happens to be my wife’s bike, but that is irrelevant. It’s in a stand though and that says something–it needs work. A little TLC. Look around the room. Clothes hanging everywhere. Lights are on. Dartboard. Nalgene with a USCF sticker on it. United States Cycling Federation. A race? Look to the bike. A number plate hanging from the handlebars. Look deeper. Water bottles all over the place. Same with the food. What do hard core mountain bikers need during a race? Fluids and energy. All of a sudden we have one paragraph on the “where”.

What. What are we photographing? Well that has been answered in the previous paragraph to some extent. Mountain Biking. Some kind of race. It’s dark out. What kind of races head into the night? Long races. There is one obvious rider. One person you cannot really see, and two guys that are not riding. Relay racing? Team racing. It’s night time, so it has to be some kind of endurance race. Everything is boarded up. Heater. Jackets. Mud. It’s late season. Look at the mud. Even the color lends itself to more of the answers.

Why. Why are we photographing it? Besides the simple fact that we are photographers and we like the scene or are getting paid to shoot the scene, etc., etc., etc. I will tell you why I took the shot. Because of paragraphs one and two. There is a complete story in this one simple image. Over five hundred words already in this post and we are quickly turning it into that stupid cliché–a picture is worth a thousand words. But why else? The scene has great light. It is an unusual situation. How many photographers are up at an hour like this? It has marketing potential to the bike builder, to any company who has gear in there, and to the race coordinators. It works to add more detail to a set of images about this race. It shows the races when the are not racing. A different perspective. An intimate perspective. I liked that the scene unfolded with some interpretation. I liked the way that at first it is confusing, but then leads to more and more discovery. Do you see the dog? Do you see the clock?

Don’t worry, these shots don’t happen every day. Sometimes not even in a month of shooting. Don’t ever tell your clients that though. You as a photographer will work, really hard to accomplish great images. Usually when you feel like you are shooting pure trash, when you are most tired, most convinced you are failing, you create something that has…well, potential. Remember, WWW, and go out and shoot. Also, guess the actual specifics of this photo and I will send you a signed print of it, to use as kindling at your next BBQ.

Darwin Wigget and I decided to write for each other’s blogs this month. We agreed on a topic, wrote our articles, and selected our images without even hinting to each other on how we were approaching the subject. I emailed him my article and ten images, he in turn did the same. This is his article-mine can be found on his blog. We are planning on working together on a single topic article every other month, so stay tuned. Our next posting will be at the beginning of August.

Truck © Darwin Wiggett

Some photographers seem to have an innate creativity; they view the world in a way that is novel and fresh and not contrived. Where does this creativity come from? Is it genetic? Or is it something we can buy in a bottle or from the local drug dealer? Why is it that some photographers are so clever with their vision while many of us just seem to produce the ‘same old, same old’ over and over again? Is there a magic pill or set of mental gymnastics that we can try to make us more creative, or is the answer something deeper? Here are my thoughts.

Dog © Darwin Wiggett

Boy © Darwin Wiggett

All the photographers and artists that I know who are extremely creative have a strong inner drive and motivating passion for what they do. They simply can’t help themselves—they are fueled to go! Galen Rowell has described this trait as the inner rat. The rat is a voracious creature residing in your gut that drives you out time after time to create new images. The rat is not stymied by suffering and leaving the comforts of home; in fact, it seems to grow stronger in the face of adversity. The rat propels nature and outdoor photographers to shoot at temperatures diving toward -40 degrees Celsius, to sit in blinds for 12 hours without food, and to make other people look at you and think you are mad. The rat makes you hang off cliffs, wade into alligator-infested waters, and sleep in a bivouac sac in a meadow full of hungry grizzly bears. In short, it is this inner, almost insane drive that seems like the predominant prerequisite to success as a creative being.

Boy © Darwin Wiggett

I believe we all have a hungry rat within us. Some people have a fat, satiated little rat that sits on the sofa with a TV remote and a bag of Cheetos while others have a gigantic, emaciated rat constantly looking for its next meal. The one factor that most suppresses the size of the rat is ego. The fear of being judged, rejected or ridiculed always keeps the inner rat tiny. The ‘fear to create’ is the biggest rat-trap of all. I see this situation a lot: people often have an inner drive to create yet are absolutely terrified to show the world their images. They are the lurkers on photo forums and the long time camera club members who never show their work. In short, their insecurities cage the rat and wither the rat’s desire. After awhile any creativity they have is lost in their insecurities.

Ice Waterfall © Darwin Wiggett

On the opposite end of the spectrum are the ego maniacs. Here the photographer wants to show the world his photos, show how clever and amazing he is. The real reason the photographer shoots is for public recognition, for ‘atta boys’ and pats on the back. This kind of photographer often does have a voice of his own and a rat pushing him to create but the rat has learned to feed on the junk food of life–accolades. It has become a junkie needing a constant injection of adoration. These junkie rats force the photographer to constantly post on every possible photo forum where they hang on to each and every comment, aggressively countering any post that is anything but complimentary. Soon the work of such a photographer becomes repetitive and stale. The photographer constantly tries to repeat past successes and the accolade-aholic rat stifles any further creative growth. Without accolades the photographer loses his passion and therefore his creativity.

Waterfall © Jay Goodrich

The truly creative photographers I know have a rat that drives them independent of their ego. These are self-confident people who create and are not afraid to share their works but also create for their own inner purposes and not for public adoration; they simply ‘shoot from the heart’ with little or no worries about how the outside world views their work. They are not arrogant about their work and processes and often are the people most willing to share their passion with others. Secrets have no place in their life-work. They shoot to please themselves and they create simply because they have to. And finally, they have learned to control the rat, they have learned balance and that life is richer than just their art and their expression. They let the rat lead when necessary but in the end are the master of the rodent.

Dog Apple © Darwin Wiggett

Dog © Darwin Wiggett

In summary, I believe ego is the biggest stumbling block in being truly creative. We all have passion, we all have an inner rat, and we can all be driven when we feel a connection. It is simply the fear to create and the need for recognition that kills our creativity. The photographer who is confident in themselves, and who lets her inner vision thrive will be a photographer who has a big, creative rat. On the other hand, if you constantly worry what others will think of your work, how you will be perceived, or how famous you will become, then you will likely lose any creativity you had—you are destined to kill your inner rat. If you shoot simply to please yourself and to satisfy an inner desire without regard to how the world will view your work, then you are on the path to true creativity.