LensWork - Photography and the Creative Process Brooks Jensen

I suspect we would all agree that the advancement in camera technology over the last 25 years has been amazing. Curiously enough, when I look at my digital images in my Lightroom catalog, the advances in camera technology pale in comparison to the advances in software processing. I'm not sure my newest and latest camera has allowed me to do anything that I couldn't do with my first digital camera 20 years ago. The latest camera technologies have made my life easier, but I'm not sure it's made my artwork any better.

Often, while I'm working on a project, I'll try something that doesn't work at all for the project I'm developing. It ca be tempting to just delete the failure and move on. Instead, I've come to realize that perhaps the failed idea is a seed for a new project. I guess what they say is true, "The harder I work, the luckier I get."

In most every walk of life, lineage is a big deal. This is particularly true in religion, politics, and nobility. It might seem less true in photography, but I'm not so sure. We each see ourselves as the inheritors of an approach to the art life that not only informs our self-image, but can heavily influence what we produce

Creative ideas rarely manifest on demand. Be brilliant, right now, this instant. You can. Creativity doesn't work that way. In my mind, there is no doubt that one of the most important activities about the art life is capturing ideas when they pop into mind. How you capture ideas is a strategy that is worth thought, planning, organization, and commitment.

As a follow up on yesterday's conversation about music and looking at photographs, I could apply the exact same logic to locations where I photograph. The first time I go anywhere I tend to photograph the fairly obvious compositions - - and perhaps do so without nearly as much depth as I would like to. I need to return to a location a half a dozen or a dozen times before I feel I've gotten to know it. Weather changes, seasons change, but most importantly, I change.

To really appreciate a new piece of music, I need to hear it at least 20 times so that I can own it in my mind. The same can be said for photography. I have to spend time with an image before I feel like I've seen it. I have to think about it. I have to search for metaphors in my responses. Sometimes I need to know a little bit about the photographer so I can put their photograph in the context of their career. The idea that photography is something to be glanced at just sits wrong with me on so many levels.