My journey as a photographer

A few years ago I turned to nature photography as an outlet for my desire to spend time alone along the stream banks, and in the woods and fields of Southeastern Minnesota. It’s where I’ve always spent my free time, but the old passions of hunting and fishing had waned and I needed another different excuse. With photography I could still have a quarry, without ever having to take that last action.

At first it was perfect, I spent hours and days whiling away the time shooting everything from little brown birds to newborn whitetail fawns. The photographs revealed details that I had never fully noticed, even after years in all those same haunts. I was outside, seeing, and immersed in what I saw, fully content.

I shared the photos with family and a few others. At first I became better as a photographer almost by accident, and then I started to work on it in earnest. I wanted to capture and share the beauty that surrounded me. A common Yellowthroat or Northern Harrier, a playful Fox kit, or sprawling Snapping turtle basking in the summer sun; each one evocative and beautiful.

With greater skill came accolades from family and friends. They loved the photos and talked about my “art”. Having never had even the barest modicum of artistic talent I have always been jealous of those that do. I see and appreciate beauty, but I’ve never been able to create it. Thus the idea that what I was doing was an art form held great appeal. I redoubled my efforts to improve, and studied what others were doing through books and here on NPN. They in turn offered help and suggestions, and I did get better.

I became ever more self-critical and wondered with each photograph, what am I bringing to this, what is my contribution as an artist, what is unique about this and how is it art? Unfortunately the honest answer was almost always “nothing”. I spent more and more time thinking about what I needed to do to make each shot special, and I took fewer and fewer photos. Those that I did take were almost always quickly discarded. I certainly had no wish to share inferior work that would reflect poorly on my art and thus on me. It was frustrating, and in an odd way filled with angst.

This past weekend, for the first time in months, I set out with my camera to a small valley on the edge of my farm. A little brook runs along the bottom of it and the south-facing slope catches the March sun and is shielded from the wind, thus spring arrives here first. It was warm for this time of year with temperatures approaching the mid-fifties. I sat partially concealed against some logs on the stream bank and waited for the birds to forget about me and come back into this sunlit corner. My thoughts turned to the poor harsh glinting light and the rather dirty color of the still-brown grasses. I realized it was useless, with this light and background I was not going to capture anything of worth. I decided to set the camera aside and smoke a cigar, enjoying the warmth of the sun on my back as I watched a Robin pull earthworms. The frost is out early this year.

Then the epiphany, in a real sense my photos have nothing to do with me. I am not artist but simply someone taking snapshots of what I happen to see. There needs to be nothing of me in any of them. In fact, if done well, they bring the viewer to where I am without thought of me or any other person intruding. I am there alone, and I can record but not create. Hopefully I can on occasion share it in such a way as to put someone else along that stream enjoying even something so simple as that ubiquitous harbinger of spring, a Robin with an earthworm. But it doesn’t matter really; I am there for me.

"But it doesn't matter really; I am there for me."

Exactly the way I feel.

Thanks for sharing this Peter - often times we get too wrapped up in it being a good shot with all the right elements. To counter this myself, I started some photography blogs where I can share both the great and not so great photos, so those that view them have a sense of what was there and see what I saw and can appreciate nature, even if it's a big crop or has harsh lighting.

- Luke

Dewitt Jones spoke about this. It is humbling that the beauty is just there, and very humbling indeed that we occasionally get to see it.

Pete D.

Peter:
Thanks for posting this. I resonate with what you have written.

Peter that was something every nature photographer should read. Technology has allowed us to split pixels and re-split them and caused us all to analyze what the casual viewer of our photo misses. I had put some photo up on my facebook page and the one that drew the most complements was technically the worst. Go figure! To me its all about enjoying nature and adding a little challenge to it. Some days its the desire to see something again that drives me to the field, other days its the desire to see something for the first time.

Whatever the driver it sure feels good to get close to nature. I have always had a respect for the wild and the respect deepens each time I am able to spend some time there.

Mike

Peter, thanks for sharing this at such a personal level. I think we all go through some degree of this self evaluation with our photography. I started photography as a way to document my botany studies and went through several stages of just what you mention. In the end I finally ended up right back where I started. I went into botany because I loved nature and everything about it. I am back to being a botanist at heart and documenting what I see in my wanderings. I photograph what I want to and enjoy and if someone else is inspired by it so much the better but in the end it is for me. Very insightful post!

Bill Stice.

Wow...I felt like your words were coming from my mouth. Sharon

I hope it is clear that I am not saying that photography cannot be art. There are those here on NPN whose work makes me marvel and that is consistently creative.

I can record what I see, and may not do it any better or differently than someone else. The blessing is that it is me there, seeing. Photography can enhance that experience by bringing extra attention to detail, but through what really was hubris, I was allowing it to detract.

I made a vow that I will no longer allow those self important thoughts to creep in. I will enjoy what I see and capture it to the best of my ability. I will continue to strive for improvement but with a different attitude. From time to time I may capture a truly stunning image, but I know that in my case it will be because I was lucky enough to be THERE rather than because it was ME there.

Very nice story Peter. It really hit home for me, because I have gone through almost this exact same growth as a person loving nature. I started as a hunter and an angler and a sometimes photographer and have grown through the stages you discribed for yourself. To me it is fine to be critical of your work, but I try very hard never to let photography and the pursuit of great shots detract from the fact that the reason I am out and about is to enjoy the still wild things in this world and to record them to inspire others. The persuit of perfections is fine, but in the end matters not. Thanks for sharing this.

Bravo!

Hi Peter,
I'm new to this wonderful group of dedicated photographers and have been gleening from the amazing expertise members so willingly share. None of what I have learned is as important as what you shared in your journey. Like those that have already commented, you described that place inside ourselves that we want to reach.

Learning to slow down and become one with the subject and asking, " how would you like to be photographed", often helps me to get out of my own way. The feeling I get when I press the shutter in the zone you described is thrilling. It is like target practicing and knowing when you pull the trigger that you have hit your mark. I am addicted to his feeling yet it only comes when we find the place you so movingly described. Thank you!

Hi Peter,

I appreciate your story very much and think you've worked through a lot of issues common to many photographers. To be honest (and this may not be a popular thing to say, but I'm going to say it anyway) I think it's extremely easy to over-think "big-picture" issues with almost philosophical questions like "what unique contribution am I making to the world of photography?" or "is what I do art?" and get frustrated. Like you, I'm my own harshest critic and can nit-pick any image I take into oblivion. But what's the point of that? Others seem to like (and buy) my images and I enjoy the entire process. I'm just going to do what I do best and let the big picture questions look after themselves (or let others look after them). Is it art or simply documentation of what I saw? Seems like a completely unanswerable and semantic question to me. Maybe I'm just not bright enough to ask and answer those questions - I'll just keeping loving what I'm doing in blissful ignorance!

Cheers...thanks for the honest and heart-felt post...

Brad

Peter, a thought provoking insight as to why we go out to photograph. For me, that question always seemed to keep coming up year after year as I went through many phases in my photography. Each year I was improving in my photographic skills and spend much time on this "learning to see" aspect. The hobby became a creative outlet, a passion to learn, an obsession at times but I was always out in nature where I wanted to be. I would go out hiking or backpacking not for the sake of being there but for getting the best possible photograph, in the best light. On one hike I got so frustrated in trying to "capture the light" that I realized I was starting to lose my connection to the natural world. It was not suppose to be this way, I thought photography was going to get me closer to nature. I am not sure if this type of thinking/questioning is a phase all nature photographers go through but someone else said something about coming around full circle and that is what has happened for me. I now go out on hikes or walks just to enjoy being out and yes I still take the camera with me. If I get a photo opportunity fine and if not that is fine too. Just the other day I came home from visiting a local park and I was telling my wife about all these birds flying around me as I sat next to this stream. She asked if I got any good photographs and I said "no, not a one, but it was so cool!"
Thanks for posting this.
Regards,
Jim

This is a timely subject and I can certainly understand. In fact, even though for years my dream was to be a paid nature photographer, but it did not turn out that was. Now that I am retired from my field of the last 33 years, I am doing what I wanted to be years, ago. But only for myself! Yes it is nice to be paid for a photo and to write an occassional piece for a magazine, but mostly I am taking nature photographs for me! Some of my best photos were never taken, but remain in my mind. Thanks for starting this subject.

Great oration. Have you ever thought of submitting articles along with your images for publication? I'm sure many of us including myself have gone through the same thought process.

Peter, it looks like the bulk of what i mentioned to you in an email has already been adressed here--Brad for example talks about how 'over-thinking' can lead to what i referred to as 'throwing the baby out with the bath-water'... I think clearly your experience resonates with a lot of folks. I'll just reiterate that I believe you cannot divorce yourself from nature, even with your photos, there's always a part of you in them--you're the one who made the capture. It's one's personal 'art' and denying one's connection to the subject can be counterproductive. Embracing our vision of nature without allowing the ego to take command can be a tough line to walk, but I think it's a worthy pursuit. Thanks for the great post!

I am glad that the issues that I have struggled with resonate with others. Hopefully reading it helps someone through it a little quicker, I know the responses help me.

Stan, I am glad you wrote but wish you would have made your points as strongly as you did in your email to me. You spoke of the inherent contradiction in what I wrote and you make a very valid point.

I claim in the end that "it doesn’t matter really; I am there for me." while maintaining "in a real sense my photos have nothing to do with me". Those two statements seem mutually incompatible.

Perhaps I'm just trying to do what my kids would call a Jedi mind trick. I don't think so though. The "I'm there for me" relates only to the reason I am in that spot camera in hand. I practice photography for the entirely selfish reason of putting myself in position to enjoy my natural surroundings. Whereas while "in a real sense my photos have nothing to do with me" is a clear overstatement, the point is that I do not provide the content, I only select it.

Even if is a Jedi mind trick, thinking of it that way enhances my experience and helps me block out my ego. I had almost reached the point where I felt if my photo of, for example a red-bellied woodpecker, didn't show it in a way that I preferred over all other photos I've seen of them, then what was the point of mine?

That makes a lot more sense to me, Peter, and i see what you are saying. What can i say, im a bit slow to catch on My experience with photography was that it was originally a 'selfish' way to record/share what i was doing anyways--at the time, climbing and hiking a ton of places in the PacNW--it was only years later that i found it was a way i could reconnect to all the painting and art that i did when i was younger. So, for me, it was a win-win situation, I'd be just as happy without a camera in hand (at least i hope so!) I appreciate your response and clarification!

Before our photography can be anything else, it must first be for ourselves. I think the camera first gets us out into nature more than we would be without it. I know that is not the case for everyone, but it definately is for me. At some point, the desire to capture better images, and improve our skills comes into play. But that is really a personal issue. It does not take anything close to perfection technically to get someone's attention. I can attest to that from personal experience!!! I know I don't have the technical proficiency that many others here have. But I can't tell you how many times I have been embarrassed over the positive responses I get from people that see my work. That is not the reason I picked up a camera. A strong desire to capture images of the beautiful places, and experiences I was enjoying was my goal. the desire to improve the quality of the images came from seeing how far I had to go in order to approach the level of quality I was seeing here.

The thing I am most grateful for, is the time I have spent in nature, that my interest in photography has provided. That is purely for my own fulfillment. I look at it as my form of therapy now Whatever level of technical proficiency, or artistic quality you aspire to is also purely for you. At least I think it should be. Maybe at some point, the choice to try and make a living from photography comes into play. Then you may feel the need to produce images of a higher standard for the purposes of sales.

You said that you didn't create the subject, but you choose what to photograph, and how to present it. This is your presence in the process. When you understand what a priviledge it is to be out in nature, and see the things we get to see, you can't help but to try and capture the beauty of it in your images. I think you get it! And that is the most important thing. This is what it is all about for me. If someone viewing my images can relate to my emotional state, then I have given someone something that they may not have the opportunity to experince. But in the end, I do it for me. As Stan says, " I'd be just as happy without a camera in hand". I hope that is true for me also, but I think I'll continue taking the camera along, just in case!

Chris

Good post and good comments. My photography also started as an offshoot of my backpacking, canoeing and mountaineering trips as a way to share the experience with others. It has come a long way since then.

I find that the practice of photography actually pulls me in closer to a place, as I spend far more time 'feeling the place out' than I did before I started carrying a camera in earnest. The " how would you like to be photographed" approach is closer to my approach, I suspect. I do not get overly involved about the technical aspects as I find they distract. I tend to 'back into' an image, if that makes any sense.

I found that writing about these things can help me sort them out in my own head and I even started a blog recently to encourage this sorting and learning process as an ongoing exercise.

Thanks for posting this Peter. It is very good food for thought.

Great post. I always have at least one cigar in my vest pocket and sometimes a thermos of coffee. There is nothing to substitute just being out there. I cannot believe how often I "stumble" into a good image when I have gotten into this "mode." Thanks for the reminder!

Very-very thought provoking! I some how feel that there is only one creator, we just record, capture, document, copy or whatever you call it, depending on our skills however good or bad they are.
The purpose of my photography is not to become great photographer, but to be one with the nature and enjoy it first hand, even if only for the moment. If I succeed in transmitting even minutest part of that joy, that information or that beauty...I consider myself successful. So the photography happens to be just extension of that awesome experience.
Jagdeep Rajput

Jagdeep,

I feel much the same way. I make no pretense of any greater understanding, but to the extent I have one those private places are my temple, and it is there that I experience reverence.

Peter