Creating a Sense of “Something”

I often write about the importance of connecting with our subjects in our photography and art. I’ve written about how exploring art in other mediums, such as painting, can help us see differently and more. Ultimately, when we find or discover subjects that hold our attention, the attraction comes from within ourselves – our experiences, our preferences, our emotions and responses, and our knowledge in those times. I don’t know about you, but my better images (the ones that I love) are made when I slow down and “plug in” to the present moment.

Intimate story of autumn

ONE OF THOSE MOMENTS

There are many times when we really need to forget everything else that we let swirl around in our brain and decide to just be where we are. It’s not always easy to do. I had one of those extended moments recently on a quiet trail in West Virginia while scouting a new area. When I am scouting, I’m looking for places that are beautiful and safe for others who would join me. It takes more effort to separate my attention to focus on being present in those times. The “zone” is harder for me to get into.

On that morning, I was able to let go, be present and forget about everyone else. It was magical, peaceful, calming and all the things I needed. The morning was relatively clear with no mystical fog or dramatic clouds to demand attention. Instead, there were trees in fall color, ferns of various hues, dirt and rocks and roots on the trail with offshoots that told the story of wanderers exploring off-trail views. It was a stretch of time and space that filled me with awe. The peacefulness that surrounded me was palpable. Cool autumn mornings can do that. The breezes were mild. The light meandered as I did, changing from soft to dappled and sunny to shade – all within a mile. At one point, well, many actually, I simply stood still, closed my eyes and listened to the yellow and amber leaves fall like a gentle rain. My breathing slowed, and with each long, slow exhale, every part of me relaxed.

I had not realized until then, taking in the fullness of the forest, how much I needed those moments. They were just for me as I allowed myself to drop all the cares and concerns at the beginning of the trail. The images I created were more about being in those moments than being focused and technically sound. They reflected how I was feeling. I needed that. I always do, but I’m not always able to be that present and aware (especially when I am in the scouting mode).

Morning light with the ferns

CREATING A SENSE OF PLACE

As photographers, we are often in locations that draw us in because of their unique features – the landscape, the wildlife, the architecture and the people or culture. Sometimes we travel great distances for once-in-a-lifetime adventures. Other times we go “local” or regional. Those places provide opportunities to return at different times or in different seasons. Our interests and objectives for photographing or visiting different places vary from person to person, and they can change with each visit.

So, how do we go about creating a sense of place? To keep it on the simple side, we look to the icons, elements and details to help us tell the story and to create a sense of place that we experience with our images. For example, on the North Carolina coast, the icons are the lighthouses and piers. The elements might be the fishing vessels, the dunes and marshes. And, the details could be crab pots, fishing nets, shells and such. (Some time ago I wrote a blog, Capturing a Sense of Place, that explores this more. Click here to read more.)

Rainbow Falls at Watkins Glen State Park

Closer view of Rainbow Falls

We can create a sense of place within a single image or within a series or collection. Either way, the story we tell depends on our approach, the conditions (weather, season, location), and our own unique perspective. Because we are all different, we view the same places differently. Seeing the works of others made in places near and far is what makes the journey exciting and inspiring. Our personal “view finders” shape the images we create. I believe that we all have experienced the “how did I not see that” moment when someone shares an image they made at the same location, same day and time that you were there, sometimes standing right next to them. It’s all about the choices we make and how we see the world. The beauty in that is how our vision is expanded. We tuck the knowledge into our memory bank not to copy, but to notice and incorporate in future works and different places.

In nature nothing is perfect and everything is perfect. Trees can be contorted, bent in weird ways, and they’re still beautiful.

— Alice Walker

Finding a smaller story in the falls

CREATING A SENSE OF CALM

Often, we photograph what we need. We photograph in ways that are meant to feed our soul. In this world of busyness, it is easy to blow off opportunities to unplug because we have “too much to do.” We claim that we “don’t have time.” Sometimes we tell ourselves that we can’t make time – for ourselves – even though it’s the one thing we desperately need to do. Yet, somehow, we make time for everyone and everything else. We need to change that.

In order to create a sense of calm in our images, we must leave behind all our excuses. We need to commit at least to being open and available to try. We must slow down and place ourselves in a position that provides opportunity to unwind. You can go somewhere close by. I’ll often walk the neighborhood with my camera or visit a local park or arboretum. It’s not about the volume of time; it’s about the quality of time and the choice to carve it out for ourselves. Even stepping outside my door today provides an opportunity to find a subject to immerse in. And, any one of them could hold me captive if I let them.

For me, the calm comes mostly from nature. I’ll often spend time with flowers, grown, gathered or purchased – doesn’t matter. The beauty draws me in. Generally, after a short time, and sometimes some rough starts, the immersion often begins. When things are going well, the “zone” appears and of sense of time is lost. Ten minutes becomes thirty; an hour becomes two. The most important part of the process is taking that first step. If we don’t start, nothing happens. The opportunity fades. A way that helps me get started is to put “shoot flowers” or “shoot anything” on my running to-do list. I may not get to it on the first day, but not adding this to the list means that there’s a high likelihood that it won’t happen—no matter how good my intentions are.

Gomphrena enveloped in pink with Helios 44

Giving yourself a “date” with yourself and putting it on your calendar, even once a week, provides you the opportunity to find calm within yourself and to create images that feel good to you and make you feel good. These are two different things: the first is what you have created, what you’re looking at (the image); and the other is how what you’ve done, the time you’ve spent creating, makes you feel. Do not use this date to create images for competition. Your mind will not be open to anything else but the assignment and even, perhaps, “winning.” If you do this on your “personal date,” you lose. When I make a date with myself, I feel better emotionally, and I am more productive afterwards because I took the time to do something for myself. I find it easier to stay focused. Many of the images shared here reflect those times when I gave myself the time I thought I didn’t have but really needed.

So, how do we create a sense of calm for ourselves and our images? What might we look for in images that create that sense of calm? Getting quiet is a good start. Not taking all the lenses and accessories we have with us is also good. Too many choices create opportunity to be fickle, uncertain and inclined to shoot a subject with everything we have with us. Often, I will choose one or two lenses to work with, and that’s it. Remember, the calm starts with you.