It’s nearly April now in 2020 and I’ve now gotten around to writing about the 2019 year. All it took was a global lockdown! In the past, I always tried to get into writing and placing my thoughts down. I feel like it’s a great thoughtful companion to landscape photography. Just like with all new years, I always go through a reconciliation of the year. When I look back at my 2019 year, I see growth in my personal portfolio. I see a change in outlook and a re-alignment of my goals.
The year of the intimates:
In May 2019, I experienced a photography workshop experience for the first time. I did a workshop with landscape photographer’s TJ Thorne & Eric Bennett in Olympic National Park. For me, this was an entirely new experience. I didn’t know how the workshop would play out. This doubled with other life complications at the time, made for an ambivalent experience. At this point in time, I was dealing with anxieties of my personal health. As time has passed, I now see my anxieties were overly exaggerated but at that time they were the most pressing thoughts blaring in my mind. Trying to partake in a workshop that was meant to be about mindfulness and thoughtfulness with these anxieties proved to be difficult. In the end, the workshop was just what I needed. TJ & Eric both preached taking a “slow photography” approach. As we walked along the rivers or into the forests, my worries and anxieties dissipated as I focused on the scenes around me. In this approach, I would focus on afternoon light highlighting floating leafs, repeating patterns found on the forest floor, the way a river falls over rocks, etc. As I reviewed my photos for the year, I noticed how a majority of my images were made using a telephoto rather than a wide angle. At some point, a switch turned on and I’ve primarily focused on smaller scenes. The act of taking these images is a meditative and cathartic exercise for me. It’s where I cleanse of any terrible thoughts and focus on photographing what captures my eye. Many photographers have alluded to this state of being and have deemed it “flow state”. This is where hours bleed away and where one finds themselves photographing harsh light that transitions to the soft pink lights of the evening sky.
Grander Scale….with intention?
Although I’ve gravitated to photograph more intimates on a smaller scale, I still photograph images of wider scenes but not quite grand landscapes. When I think of grand landscapes, I think of big, bold, fiery sunsets and a sense of grandeur. For me, my grand landscape is a curve in a dune isolated in the most pleasing composition. A group of trees deep in the forest catching light through the forest canopy. I think I lose a sense of closeness with grand landscapes and honestly have a hard time capturing the grand icons of the world. I wouldn’t say I settle with smaller scale scenes but I do find comfort in photographing them. Walking in and out of dunes and finding that perfect untouched dune and waiting for the light is a wonderful exercise that can take half of a day to accomplish. It is what I find most rewarding currently and what I will continue to photograph.
2020 and looking forward
Currently, the world has been seized by COVID-19. I’ve been working from home the last two weeks and only go outside for the three necessities: grocery shopping, walking my dog, and running. For the 2020 year, I’ve made a quick trip to Death Valley in February but have not connected with nature since. I had intentions of travelling to Oregon in late April but these plans may have been foiled. The first half of this year isn’t looking that great in terms of making photographs but that is okay. I’ve found that even in a non COVID-19 world, I sometimes don’t photograph for months. I don’t stop thinking about photography though. Far from it. I’ve made it a goal to spend some of my free time by watching/purchasing editing videos. I’ve purchased Eric Bennett’s “Tools of the Trade Vol. 3” and have re-watched a couple of the Alex Noriega video’s (*cough* since I have all of them *cough*). I read writings found within Guy Tal’s “More than a rock” and constantly look at my work and figure what has aged well in my portfolio and what hasn’t. I’ve even purchased one spicy hot ticket to the Out of Chicago conference that I will enjoy from my sweet apartment located not in Chicago. Thinking and learning about photography will not end with all that is going on. With that being said, I do have some goals that I think would be a good idea to have written down so I can hold myself accountable come next year.
Writing more: I’d like to get out my thoughts in a focused manner at least once every couples months. I think it will be a good habit to get into, for my own sake. Who knows, maybe some of my thoughts can be helpful for others. Or not! The process of writing for me feels good and sort of organizes and solidifies my thoughts and ideas.
Explore more of the locations I’ve already visited: Over the last couple of years, I’ve been photographing the same parks year over year. I begin my trips out in Death Valley, make my way to Zion, and branch out further if I have the time. I am not even close to feeling familiar with each park and don’t think I will for many more years to come. I do see the benefit of visiting a location over and over and am very lucky to have these two great parks in driving distance to me.
Longer incubation period: Early in my photography journey to late 2018, my photography trips always ended with photos being siphoned to instagram days or weeks after the trip finished. It always felt like I was photographing for “tha gram” rather than myself. After my workshop last year, I took a slower approach in releasing my work. A full month! Which to me now feels like it was a bit premature. My most recent release, a bulk of the work was photographed in October of 2019 and wasn’t released until the end of January and I feel like that extra time of sitting with the images really showed in the end result. I believe every photographer thinks their last work is their best work but I truly do feel that I’ve made the most strides in the last release. It felt like it was much more focused and ideas were more fleshed out. In the future, I’d really like to sit with images and the edits for 3-6 months for a project that would surely be finished at the end.
Eliminate all expectations: Here I am, setting goals and expectations and the last goal of mine is to eliminate them. By eliminating my expectations, I mean eliminate expectations when going on these trips and photographing out in the field. As I reflect over my portfolio and images I cherish, I think back to that walk and the sun breaking through the forest canopy and illuminating my subject, quietly walking through a slot canyon to find an unexpected pond filled with wonder and canyon light, and other slow experiences. Nothing ever good has come from expecting a scene or having a shot in mind because this then leads to disappointment. I don’t mean you shouldn’t have scenes you would like to shoot but don’t make these scenes the “do or die’s” of your entire trip.
I’ll close this off with a story. At the end of my recent road trip through the southwest National Parks, I capped it off with a visit to Red Rock Canyon to photograph a well known scene there. It was the last couple of days of my road trip and my mom joined along. On the day of Red Rock, I was tired from the prior two weeks and really didn’t feel like going but thought since I had already planned it, we should go. Mistake number one. I get ready later in the day and it's a couple hours before sunset. My mom and I hit the road and I notice how fast the sun is dropping. Mistake number two. So I get worried that there will be no light. I arrive at the most photographed scene in Red Rock Canyon and run to where this “icon” is. I don’t slow down, I don’t enjoy the coolness in the air and the soft pink sunset. I arrive at the location to find a workshop of photographers, I’m sweaty from my run, and the light is fading. I set up my tripod quickly and attempt to launch a shot when someone asks me to move my sweater as it's in their shot. I happily oblige. I turn to get my sweater and hear a SMASH behind me as I do. I turn around and see my wide angle rolling down the hill and my camera and tripod on the floor behind me. Mistake number three.
Nothing good ever comes from rushing. I shouldn’t force these experiences and a lesson was learned that day. Now I spend my weekends revisiting my photos and the experiences attached to them. I’m itching to get back to the dunes of Death Valley and slot canyons of Zion but I am in no rush to get back to them.