Now you’re out there making pictures. Great! Just don’t miss out on important opportunities that may never exist again.

The other day I was talking to a colleague after our Monalog Zoom was over. He mentioned how much he loved reading Fred Picker’s newsletters. I told him I was a great fan too and recounted the many times I’ve read them all. That got me thinking about writing this next entry because I remembered reading how Fred missed an opportunity to make some wonderful photographs. In this case the lighting was not to his liking.

The following is his description of what happened and what didn’t happen.

“Wes Disney and I were teaching a workshop at the University of Vermont one summer. Because classes were in the morning we were able to spend our afternoons ‘cruisin’ fer snaps. One day, heading home at dusk we got turned around (Vermonters never get lost) somewhere along a dirt road near Underhill.

Meandering along, we cam upon an ancient house and barns. YES. The place looked as though it hadn’t had a tenant in a hundred years. There were no wires, no sign that it had ever known electricity. The barn contained a dozen hand-carved wooden stanchions. I’d never seen one outside of a museum. The shape of the structures and the silvery tones of the weathered boards reminded me of the exquisite barns and shed that Paul Strand had photographed in Quebec. Trough the winder I saw a white apron hanging on a nail. The material where it was sewed to the neck cord had sagged during the years and its weight had pulled it into lace. There was a cloth on a table and one corner of it had stretched to the floor.

The place was packed with that kind of detail. There was not a sign of vandalism. There was an enormous maple in the front yard that had to be older than the house … at least two hundred years old. We envisioned dozens of exciting and unique photographs … days of wonderful work.

The light was gone so we drove back, writing down every turn and landmark and the mileage between. We were enormously excited. How often do you find absolutely unique subject matter?

We didn’t wait for the next afternoon; to get in a few hours of photography before the morning class we drove out to the place before first light. The tree, which had stood for hundreds of years had for no reason that I can imagine chosen to fall on the house and barns and smashed them flat.”  Zone VI Newsletter 53, January, 1988. 

Damn!

I’ve suffered a few missed opportunities myself, but Fred’s description of his is such a good read that I will leave it at that.

I also read something very important by the great photojournalist Alfred Eisenstaedt in his book Eisenstaedt’s Guide To Photography. In the beginning of his introduction “Eisie” said “I suggest that whenever you see something interesting you should shoot immediately – get something on film, whether or not you have the right lens. Often there is little or no time to reflect, change lenses, or take a correct exposure reading. Where there is time, so much the better, of course.”

So perfect moments are great when they happen. The problem is they don’t happen that often. Being prepared helps and then there is luck and good fortune.  The point is this … make the shot! Film is not as cheap as it used to be, but unless you’re an ultra-large format shooter with the price per sheet more than it costs to go out to diner, make the shot!

Chances are good you can make a decent print, especially if you’re using Tri-X, you’re not hung up on cropping, and you know how dodge, burn and adjust contrast.

Life is short. Make the shot. It may never exist again or be there when you return! If you don’t you’ll be thinking about what might have been for a long, long time. Trust me, I know!

P.S. While driving to the great Princeton Record Exchange this weekend with my good friend who happens to read these entries … he’s not a photographer so I appreciate the time he takes to look at them … he asked me what this entry was going to be about. So I told him and he immediately said “the same thing applies to life”.

So right he is!

Never pass up the meaningful opportunities in your photographic life or in the rest of your life! Those lost opportunities will haunt you for sure.

Stay well,

Michael