Recently I have written about doing a project. I said a project could keep you focused and enable you to produce something that has a coherent theme to it, and that having one can incentivize you to keep making pictures. I also said that having a project is a good idea as long as it doesn’t stop you from thinking about other spontaneous and ad hoc opportunities. I’d like to focus more on that now.
Often when we go out to make pictures we have something specific in mind, especially if we are working on a project or theme of some kind. We have planned, we have expectations and maybe we have even thought about what the pictures might look in our mind’s eye. That’s good and necessary, but it can also lock you into the expected and prevent you from unexpectedly making happy discoveries. The result — going home empty handed when there might of have been some real keepers, if we were open to the possibilities!
I’m not talking about going out with nothing particular in mind … a clean slate if you will… not that there’s anything wrong with that! Rather I am talking about keeping your project or theme you are working on in mind while not being blind to unexpected opportunities. There is so much to see and capture if only we are open to it!
Recently I wrote about my fascination with doorways. Sometimes I have gone out with the notion of searching for them; other times I was out and about looking for other things and they presented themselves. However, around the time I learned about Aaron Siskind’s work I became open to the idea of capturing abstractions and smaller elements of either a larger scene or an object itself, such as a doorway (see my discussion of the great book Aaron Siskind 100 located here On My Bookshelf). In short, I opened my mind to a huge set of photographic opportunities I hadn’t thought about before! And you should too!!!
I see interesting things I hadn’t seen or appreciated before. They were always there … I just didn’t notice them.
I’m reminded of Paul Strand’s stupendous picture Toadstool and Grasses, Georgetown, Maine, 1928. Most people would have walked by the large mushroom surrounded by grass and leaves without a second thought, but Strand saw both a complex and beautiful scene of an entire ecosystem on the ground beneath him. Check it out … you can find it in the book Paul Strand, published in 1990 to accompany his retrospective at the National Gallery of Art (I own the book and was luck enough to see that show!).
So don’t get locked into what you expected at the expense of missing out on happy discoveries. Be open to them … they may surprise you, open up new areas of interest and lead to great work!
