Staying positive in a complicated and troubled world is challenging. It doesn't mean being superficial or "performing happiness." (You know...those forced smiles, forced empty phrases/platitudes and demanding others smile as if their performance is = genuine happiness and positivity?) It doesn't mean ignoring negative or serious personal or societal issues that require deconstruction, discussion and change. It means realizing that joy has to exist (in order to live well) despite both negative and positive forces existing--being aware of problems and still finding and choosing something to feel deep internal happiness about. It's a consistent work in progress--almost a daily choice that on some days I choose easily and others, not so much. It is to be genuinely human.
The nature of the artist is one of ebbs and flows. I don't want all ebb or all flow. One correlates to depression and the other correlates to burnout. I don't like extremes. I DO like to reflect--but not as a sort of "jolt" to create like crazy, but in fact to add to the reserve of general positivity about photography over time, which then fosters my creativity, ideas, endurance and performance.
To remain positive about photography I like to reflect on:
1) My photographs. I don't do this to psychotically compare each photograph to the previous anymore because I know the term "good" is subjective. I do this to remember how I felt and what I was thinking while creating each photograph that I love and to reconnect to that creative energy.
2) My accomplishments. I look through my web and print shoutouts, mentions, captions, articles, interviews, and most recently publications to see how well my work has spread and how I did it in order to give me ideas and approaches for the present and future. (It's also really good to examine failures...)
3) My client experiences. I think about what worked and what didn't. I think about the sincere conversations and compliments that I received from past clients. Truthfully, some were amazing and quite humbling. I think about the bad experiences and try to see what the common denominators are in order to change them or avoid them in the future.
4) My peer experiences. I have had so many positive experiences with other photographers from the one-on-one chats that I've had at coffee shops and camera shops to the great conversations I've had via social media over the last few years. I've learned so much since I made my first social media profile made in 2006 that I astound myself. I have so much more to learn and I look forward to it.
5) My experiences with everyday people. I rarely photograph anyone famous and rarely engage with anyone famous. I like the everyday conversations I have online and offline. I love how not talking about photography teaches me so much about what I want to share through the use of photography.
6) My moments alone. Since last summer I've used social media much less than any time in my life since 2006. It doesn't feel addictive or forcefully necessary anymore. It's a choice now. I don't currently get a lot of alone time or silence because of some offline things, but the moments that I do have to reflect, think, ponder, problem solve and maybe even just hope...just a little...are positively beneficial to me as a creative person and a human being. (Plus, I am an introvert. Introverts can never have "enough" alone time.)
7) The unexpected kind words. I don't hunt for compliments (or what some Twitter users call creating "thirst traps") but when someone out of nowhere takes the time to view my work and provide me with positive feedback, I can't help but smile.
8) The re-realization that photography is limitless. The only limits are the ones that are my personal limits (i.e. I can't create a fish eye photo without a fish eye lens; I can't photograph Australia if I can't afford the plane ticket--personal limits, but ones that can change over time), not within photography itself. I can never learn it all, do it all, or know it all and this makes me glad. I've had many useless (well...besides a paycheck) corporate jobs in adulthood where I learned the entire job in 4-6 weeks and nothing interesting or intellectually challenging occurred after this. Do you know how annoying/depressing that is? I'm glad that I won't do it all or know it all about photography in even 40-60 years. I'll never label myself a master. I don't ever want to. Limitless means consistent room for exploration and excitement. (I already have 10,000K+ hours of photography work and study...that which people consider necessary to be an "expert." However, I still do not consider myself an expert. Not even close. I like this.)
9) Knowing that you have ebbs and flows too. Even if you aren't a photographer and are another kind of artist, you know that unless you're clinically depressed with all ebbs, or maniac (and probably annoying) with all flows, you have periods where you're consistently creating and conversely ones where you are only mildly creating and probably studying instead. Knowing that we're all human amidst quite complicated existences helps me remember that I'm not disconnected in the sense that if my finger isn't on the shutter right now I'm automatically "giving up" or "getting behind." (Behind...what?) I don't believe that at all. And, because I realize the complexity of this, I actually smile, about it, not frown.
Truthfully life itself, when the camera is back in the bag (a Lowepro or DIESEL one for me, hehe), can be complicated. For me, there are complexities that actually have nothing to do with photography that may in fact affect how much I shoot or write. But even so, the positive feelings and love for the craft continually exists, resides in a special place in my heart and persists especially when I think of the 9 things above. Love photography when I'm making images...love photography when I'm not making images. Because truthfully, I'm never not making photographs (even if I don't always blog/share them). I view the time when my camera is put away as simply the time before I make more photographs.
What keeps you positive about photography?
The nature of the artist is one of ebbs and flows. I don't want all ebb or all flow. One correlates to depression and the other correlates to burnout. I don't like extremes. I DO like to reflect--but not as a sort of "jolt" to create like crazy, but in fact to add to the reserve of general positivity about photography over time, which then fosters my creativity, ideas, endurance and performance.
To remain positive about photography I like to reflect on:
1) My photographs. I don't do this to psychotically compare each photograph to the previous anymore because I know the term "good" is subjective. I do this to remember how I felt and what I was thinking while creating each photograph that I love and to reconnect to that creative energy.
2) My accomplishments. I look through my web and print shoutouts, mentions, captions, articles, interviews, and most recently publications to see how well my work has spread and how I did it in order to give me ideas and approaches for the present and future. (It's also really good to examine failures...)
3) My client experiences. I think about what worked and what didn't. I think about the sincere conversations and compliments that I received from past clients. Truthfully, some were amazing and quite humbling. I think about the bad experiences and try to see what the common denominators are in order to change them or avoid them in the future.
4) My peer experiences. I have had so many positive experiences with other photographers from the one-on-one chats that I've had at coffee shops and camera shops to the great conversations I've had via social media over the last few years. I've learned so much since I made my first social media profile made in 2006 that I astound myself. I have so much more to learn and I look forward to it.
5) My experiences with everyday people. I rarely photograph anyone famous and rarely engage with anyone famous. I like the everyday conversations I have online and offline. I love how not talking about photography teaches me so much about what I want to share through the use of photography.
6) My moments alone. Since last summer I've used social media much less than any time in my life since 2006. It doesn't feel addictive or forcefully necessary anymore. It's a choice now. I don't currently get a lot of alone time or silence because of some offline things, but the moments that I do have to reflect, think, ponder, problem solve and maybe even just hope...just a little...are positively beneficial to me as a creative person and a human being. (Plus, I am an introvert. Introverts can never have "enough" alone time.)
7) The unexpected kind words. I don't hunt for compliments (or what some Twitter users call creating "thirst traps") but when someone out of nowhere takes the time to view my work and provide me with positive feedback, I can't help but smile.
8) The re-realization that photography is limitless. The only limits are the ones that are my personal limits (i.e. I can't create a fish eye photo without a fish eye lens; I can't photograph Australia if I can't afford the plane ticket--personal limits, but ones that can change over time), not within photography itself. I can never learn it all, do it all, or know it all and this makes me glad. I've had many useless (well...besides a paycheck) corporate jobs in adulthood where I learned the entire job in 4-6 weeks and nothing interesting or intellectually challenging occurred after this. Do you know how annoying/depressing that is? I'm glad that I won't do it all or know it all about photography in even 40-60 years. I'll never label myself a master. I don't ever want to. Limitless means consistent room for exploration and excitement. (I already have 10,000K+ hours of photography work and study...that which people consider necessary to be an "expert." However, I still do not consider myself an expert. Not even close. I like this.)
9) Knowing that you have ebbs and flows too. Even if you aren't a photographer and are another kind of artist, you know that unless you're clinically depressed with all ebbs, or maniac (and probably annoying) with all flows, you have periods where you're consistently creating and conversely ones where you are only mildly creating and probably studying instead. Knowing that we're all human amidst quite complicated existences helps me remember that I'm not disconnected in the sense that if my finger isn't on the shutter right now I'm automatically "giving up" or "getting behind." (Behind...what?) I don't believe that at all. And, because I realize the complexity of this, I actually smile, about it, not frown.
Truthfully life itself, when the camera is back in the bag (a Lowepro or DIESEL one for me, hehe), can be complicated. For me, there are complexities that actually have nothing to do with photography that may in fact affect how much I shoot or write. But even so, the positive feelings and love for the craft continually exists, resides in a special place in my heart and persists especially when I think of the 9 things above. Love photography when I'm making images...love photography when I'm not making images. Because truthfully, I'm never not making photographs (even if I don't always blog/share them). I view the time when my camera is put away as simply the time before I make more photographs.
What keeps you positive about photography?
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