Rewards and Revelations — Slow Photography Movement

In The Slow Approach, we share individual perspectives on what it means to slow down, and how doing so can have a positive effect on our experiences as well as the images we capture.

“We are making photographs to understand what our lives mean to us.”

— Ralph Hattersly

A friend recently asked me what I do with the photos I make. On the surface it seems like a silly question to ask a photographer. “Well, let’s see, I, um, well…”. After stammering for a few moments it quickly became evident that it wasn’t so silly after all. The reality of it is that the vast bulk of my photos will never be more than anything than bytes on a computer, residing on a website or posts on social media. And most of it no one will ever see. For every image I post on social media, there are several that will never be shared with anyone. It may sound depressing, but it’s not. That’s because for me it’s not about the images themselves, but rather everything that happens behind and beyond the photograph.

In my workshops I have begun to ask people why is it they like to photograph the landscape. Why do they do it? I think it’s important to know because it will help us to shape our approach and understand our goals. On the surface it is another seemingly easy question to answer. And yet for me it was not, at least not for a long time. I used to say that it was because I love nature and the outdoors, even though I knew that was not quite it. If that was the case, then why not hike, or rock climb, or mountain bike? There are myriad ways in which to celebrate the beauty and wonder of nature. I love nature, and as a subject it is my inspiration, my muse, but it’s not why I photograph. No, it goes beyond that.

“For years I was a results-oriented photographer, not an uncommon condition, I suspect. If I came away from an outing with no shots for whatever reason, I was disappointed and regarded the venture as a failure.”

A few mornings ago I left my house just before dawn to photograph one of my favorite locations not far from my home. In the streetlight outside my window I could see the area was blanketed in a lovely fog with no wind, perfect conditions. The excitement immediately began to well up in me. The morning did not disappoint as I spent the next few hours lost in a state of creative bliss. I made a few images with which I am pleased, but what sticks with me from that morning was the joy and peace I felt in going through the process. Being in communion one-on-one with nature, seeing and listening, senses in tune with the beauty that surrounded me. When I look at those images in the months and years ahead that is what I will remember. It was the experience that ultimately mattered, not the photos.

The idea that the experience should be of equal if not greater import is one that took me a long time to learn. For years I was a results-oriented photographer, not an uncommon condition, I suspect. If I came away from an outing with no shots for whatever reason, I was disappointed and regarded the venture as a failure. I couldn’t see beyond the results. And even when I did make a superb photo the joy was short lived. After a few days I would begin to feel the need, a self-imposed pressure to make another successful photo. As a result, I was often left feeling as much frustration as I did joy. It got to the point that I questioned why I was pursuing something that caused so much angst. I’m certain I am not the only photographer to have experienced this. Time and time again I see photographers on social media lamenting conditions not coming to fruition and expressing disappointment at hopes and expectations not being realized.

“Ultimately I have learned that the main reason I practice photography is personal growth.”

While having wonderful and life affirming experiences is important, photography as an expressive tool is certainly another reason why I make photos. It is my way of communicating my deepest thoughts and feelings, many of which I am not even aware. They reside in my subconscious, drowned out by the minutiae of daily life and the mask we wear in front of others. Art allows these thoughts to come to the forefront, to be heard and recognized. I am not necessarily looking to communicate with others, I am communicating with my deeper self. Photography has lifted the veil on a side of me that I never knew existed.

Ultimately I have learned that the main reason I practice photography is personal growth. I have always held a deep admiration and envy of those who have a talent that stands out, especially in music. Photography has afforded me the opportunity to explore the boundaries of my limitations and strive to move beyond them. It is challenging, humbling, fraught with frustration at times, and ultimately more rewarding a pursuit than any I have experienced in this life. The pursuit of perfection, while something that will never be realized, nonetheless brings with it a sense of accomplishment and achievement that motivates me to continue. It is not easy, especially when making a living at it, but then nothing worthwhile in life is easy.

Our reasons for practicing photography are varied and personal. For some it is a way of sharing with others the beauty of nature. For others it is a road to self-discovery and learning about ourselves. What I ultimately do with my photos is inconsequential. Matted and framed or never leaving my computer screen, viewed by many or by none, it makes no difference. They are a by-product, a result of a much deeper and personal journey of discovery that is rewarding in ways I never could have fathomed.