LensWork - Photography and the Creative Process Brooks Jensen

Perhaps this is a flawed analogy, but I can't help but look back at the history of technology and conclude that widespread adoption is more important than ultimate quality. Does this also apply to our photographic work? As artists, we tend to want to pursue perfection at all costs. But, like technology, is it just possibly a better strategy to pursue widespread distribution rather than that last 2% of quality improvements?

Sometimes photographic project ideas come rushing at me with such momentum that they're completion is inevitable and accomplished quickly. Other times, I'll have an idea that seems to go nowhere. Over the years, I've learned to not discount those ideas that don't come to fruition quickly. Even project ideas that are decades old could suddenly become alive with meaning and a newfound energy. The trick is to develop your method for preserving ideas until they ripen.

I'm fascinated by how often I hear photographers talk about their images by explaining what they were trying to accomplish. Does the photograph not accomplish that without the verbiage? There are good reasons for producing image and text combinations, but using text (or talk) to justify or explain a photograph is almost always going to end up diminishing the artwork.

Art making is such a frivolous activity in so much that no one really cares whether or not we make artwork. Because we don't have to, it's easy to relegate our art life to the nebulous future when someday we'll have the time to do so. This is where a structure can be handy. Self-imposed projects like a photo a day, or a commitment to exhibit can provide a little nudge of incentive.

To some degree, the purpose of photography is to replicate the human experience. Isn't this an impossible pursuit? If the purpose of a photograph is not to give us the experience of standing there and seeing the world with our own eyes, then what is the purpose of a photograph?

The history of photography shows that it has become easier and easier to make technically impressive photographs with every passing decade, certainly with every passing generation. Easier, perhaps, but never easy. There has always been a battle between our mental pictures and the ones we can make with light and chemicals. What if every shot you make is mistake-proof? Every shot - - recoverable, the seed of a perfect image assisted with AI. (This is not about AI, but about the artmaking process.)