Ed Schlotzhauer

An artists journey

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Mindless
I have said before that my shooting style is intuitive. Let me put a slightly different spin on it and say that, in a way, it is mindless.
Mushin
The idea comes from the Zen concept called mu shin. Literally it describes nothingness of the mind. You free your mind of all thoughts and assumptions and let your subconscious react.
The philosophy is a basis of a lot of Japanese art and martial art. Takuan Soho, an accomplished swordsman, and a Zen Buddhist monk, suggests that during a fight, a swordsman should not focus on himself or the opponent, but he should allow his subconscious to take over. An analogy is riding a bike. Once you learn it sufficiently, you do it unconsciously.
I believe there is a parallel concept for photography.
Note, I am not a Zen Buddhist. I am a Christian. I do not follow Zen as a religious or spiritual practice. But there is quite a bit of worldly wisdom wrapped up in their philosophy.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Practiced
An objection stated against mushin is that if you go into a fight without training and expect your mind to control you, you’re going to get beaten up. That seems like a “duh”. Of course that is true.
Implicit in the description of mushin is that it is based on lots of training and practice. Practice, repetition, exercise, over and over until it is automatic. Only then can your responses become automatic and mindless.
Do you remember learning to ride a bike? You crashed a lot at first. But after a few times you “get” it. Suddenly you can’t even remember why you were falling back then. With more practice it really does become an unconscious skill. As a matter of fact, if you are riding and you conscious try to think about riding the bike, you might get unsteady. The conscious mind is interfering with the unconscious skill.
I believe this is the essence of what is being described by mushin. It is a type of meditation, but not like we usually think of meditation. We are letting our mind control our body. It is a type of trust in the skill you have developed and a flow state. We are willing to let go of most conscious thought.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Photography
I have heard many photographers describe this in various ways. I experience it myself a lot of the time. Just being out, wandering, camera in hand, letting creativity flow, trusting my skill and experience to make the shot without giving it much conscious attention. This is joy to me.
Here are a few statements by other photographers that I think are saying similar things.
Quotes
“I enjoy the quiet moments when my mind is completely focused, when I am absorbed, when I am connected with my subject, immersed in my surroundings, fully in the moment. I guess it’s a form of meditation.” – Suzanne Nelson, Better Photography Magazine
“Mindfulness: if you suddenly realize it and say to yourself, ‘Wow! This is an amazing experience!’ — poof, you’re out of it. When you’re in it, you’re just BEING, but when you begin thinking about it, it’s gone.” Gary Buzzard, Medium. (Gary is a Zen practitioner)
“Sometimes our unconscious minds work better than our conscious minds.” Harold Davis
“A creative starts at the bottom of a circle, gains experience, and moves through an education of their craft. It’s when you move beyond that and start going back down the circle, forgetting everything that you’ve learned, that you come back to a place where you’re trusting your instincts and your unconscious voice.” Chris Brown
“I just focus on what’s in front of me and follow my intuition and let it evolve on its own.” Julieanne Kost
“Get to the point where you’re just there, and you’re actually letting it just flow thru you.” Ian Spalter
“Don’t overthink things in front of you. If it moves you, shoot it; if it’s fun, shoot it; if you’ve never seen it before, shoot it.” Jay Maisel
“Try to go out empty and let your images fill you up.” Jay Maisel
“Photography by wandering around: exploring without specific goals or expectations in mind, taking a slow pace, seeking to see beyond the most obvious features of a landscape, and enjoying the process regardless of the results.” Sarah Marino
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Trust it
There is a lot of good accumulated wisdom in those quotes. I was encouraged that it was easy to find so many people I respect basically saying to follow our instincts. They all seem to be describing a mushin state.
This is not thoughtless and it’s not being trapped in ruts of automatic behavior. We learn to let go and don’t try to force the outcome. Mindlessness is not ignorance. Quite the contrary, it is built on extensive training and practice to the point where our subconscious is so educated that it can take over and direct our actions without needing direct attention by our conscious mind. Like riding a bike.
In photography, this is a kind of equivalent of a flow state, where we are so engaged in the moment that there is nothing else. And in photography, I believe that allowing ourselves to operate in this instinctive manner is a direct connection to our inherent vision and style. What we do subconsciously should be a more honest expression of what we see and feel than if we are overthinking making the image.
Let the process play out. See where it goes. Trust our instincts. Believe that the skills we have built will form the image. Let our subconscious run. And enjoy the ride.
Our photography is not defined by some obscure Japanese Zen term like mushin. But it is comforting to see smart people in different disciplines coming to similar conclusions about important things.
June 3, 2026
Outside the Frame
I have written about using the frame to our advantage. But it is important to also be aware of what is happening outside the frame.
The frame
The frame is one of the most powerful drivers in photography. We need to learn to use it, to compose within it, and, as I said, to dance with it.
An image can only be what is in the frame. That is all our viewers can see.
But I don’t want to leave the impression that nothing else is important. As artists and people, we also must be aware of what is happening outside the frame. We often can use it to our advantage. The image is finalized within the frame, but it often depends on a larger area.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Context
Every image has context. We may isolate an image to reduce the specific context and make it more universal. But context is there, and it is important.
The scene we photographed was part of a context. The context gave locale and meaning to the scene. We must be aware of that and decide how to use it.
Sometimes we use part of a scene to represent something more universal. A shot of half dome in Yosemite is a shot of half dome. It is so unique and recognizable that that is all it will be. But a picture of a mountain cascade can represent the idea of mountain cascades almost anywhere in the world. Depends on your intent.
Do you want to represent this specific scene or are you making a statement about things like this in general? Part of that is managing the context.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Action path
Sometimes action is happening out of the frame that is significant to the composition we are trying to make. If we are shooting sports, we could set up the desired shot with the background or lighting we want and wait for the runner (or bicyclist or race car or football player or whatever) to move into the position we anticipate. For this to succeed, we must be very aware of the action that is happening. And we must be familiar enough with the activity to expect to be able to predict the path of the action.
I have heard many street photographers talk about setting up the shot they want then wait until someone moves into the perfect position. That takes anticipation and awareness of the movement of others around us. And an understanding of the paths people are likely to take within a scene.
And patience.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Danger
Let’s not overlook that there are potential dangers outside the frame that we need to be aware of.
Say I am concentrating on setting up a landscape scene. I am completely focused on the viewfinder as I perfect the composition and decide on exposure. But if a mountain lion is stalking me, I need to know about that. The reality is that it is unlikely, but it is part of the awareness I need to maintain.
A more realistic example is a street photographer. Is the location safe? Am I annoying people and starting to attract unwanted and potentially dangerous attention?
Or take a sports photographer. They must stay aware of the action happening on the field or the track. There is a normal flow to sports action that allows us to anticipate situations. But there are those rare and exciting moments where something unexpected breaks and we must be ready. Maybe a pass interception in a football game, maybe a runner missing a hurdle and falling, maybe race cars crashing. The breaking action could lead to the signature picture of the event, or it could be dangerous to the photographer. Or both.
This is generally called situational awareness. It is important for keeping us safe and it is useful for making better pictures.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Interacting outside the frame
I said that a viewer can only see what is withing the frame. That’s literally true, but not the end of the story. Some creative photographers have subjects deliberately looking out of the frame. As viewers, we know from experience that they are interested in or interacting with something unseen. That can bring a heightened engagement. It arouses our curiosity about what is going on.
Our subject could be staring intently at something out of the frame. A quarterback could be passing the ball to an unseen receiver. An archer could be at full draw, ready to release the arrow. But at what?
These are examples of action outside the frame influencing what is going on within the frame. It makes the viewer guess what is happening.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Better images
Many images happen in a context. Understanding the context and working with it instead of against it often leads to better pictures. We create the image within the frame, but events or context outside the frame can strongly influence what we do.
Action happens and moves into our frame. Often that is what we desire. We must anticipate and plan for that action and be aware of it happening.
We must also maintain situational awareness of what. is happening outside the frame. This helps to keep us safe. If we get run over by a truck, we will probably stop making creative new pictures.
These ideas only discuss the physical situation when we are shooting. Many, many other things outside the frame influence us. Our attitude, how we feel, our knowledge, our curiosity, and our life experiences all impact us.
It is hard to overstate the importance of the frame, but the frame is not the universe of everything significant to a photographer. There is a world outside the frame that impacts the world inside the frame. We must balance them.
May 27, 2026
Culling
I recently finished a major part of a large project to cull my “best” images. It was much harder than I thought. Culling is hard.
Why
More than once I asked myself “why?”. I thought this would take me 2-3 weeks. It ended up taking 4 months.
Why in the world would I take on something like this voluntarily? I felt it was necessary to be honest with myself.
I use a multi-layer “grading” system to promote my best work up the ladder. It has been in place for several years and it seemed time to do a reality check to see if I believed my system. It is too easy to rate a picture higher just because I like it without it being truly worthwhile.
And to be honest, there were a couple of concerns I wanted to check on. These are hard to express or admit, but I wanted to see if my recent work was as good as my earlier work and if my work, overall, was up to the standard I want for myself.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
How
My methodology was just to plow through it from beginning to end. I did not attempt to organize images by subject or style or anything. It is just a huge, roughly chronological list of my top-rated pictures.
My criterion is that any image in this top group meets my standards. I should be able to randomly select any one and I will be glad to hang it on my wall or enter it to a show. Of course, I don’t like each one equally. I have favorites. But any of this top group should be a very good representation of my work.
All the images are in a collection in my Lightroom Classic catalog. In general, the goal is to examine each image and keep or demote it. These are ones that have made it to the top of my list. In no case did I delete any pictures, except for a couple of cases of duplicates. Rejecting an image from my top category means demoting it a level, not removing it.
If things were actually that easy, it would have gone faster. The reality is that it is hard for me to keep from “improving” some of them. So I occasionally take side trips into editing. I enjoy that, but it is a time sink.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
What did I learn
I went back through nearly 20 years of images in my Lightroom catalog. I have used Lightroom since its beta release. It’s first production release was in 2007. That is quite a trip down memory lane.
I have not had time to do an intense analysis, buy here are some observations.
20 years ago I was more active, willing to do more vigorous physical activity in any weather. I have slowed down (or gotten smarter). I still get out in a lot of weather, but fewer long back country treks.
Way back, I seem to have been a little more willing to shoot anything that was mildly interesting. Now I am older and more cynical and judgmental. I have lost some of the child-like wonder of the world. I am less likely to shoot if I don’t feel it will be a good picture. This is something I need to work on.
Many of my oldest pictures are travel related. I still shoot a lot when traveling, and I like it, but I have improved my mindfulness and attention in everyday shooting near home. This is good.
My old pictures tend toward technical perfection and formal compositions. I have moved quite a way beyond that. For one thing, I’ve developed more taste for movement, both intentional camera movement and subject blurring. “Perfection” has a whole different meaning for me now. Abstraction is more common.
I’ve always had a “good eye” and the ability to isolate interesting events and creative compositions. It has gotten more refined with time. That is encouraging.
Many of the themes I used to shoot are still well represented in my newer work. I haven’t run off in wildly new directions. One thing I do note is that I seldom photograph people anymore. This is a shame, because I like a lot of what I did in the past. But times seem to have shifted, and I don’t want the potential hassles that can come with it anymore.
It is probably fair to say my older work showed more youthful enthusiasm while my newer work is more mature and investigative. I’m sure there are deeper insights that will come with more thought.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
What’s next
If I was really going to do this rigorously, I guess I would create sub-collections of these by topic: all landscapes, all architecture, all travel, etc. That way I could more closely compare the changes that have happened in the treatment of similar subjects over time. I probably won’t.
E.B. White said that “analyzing humor is like dissecting a frog. Few people are interested and the frog dies of it.” I think it would be like that for me if I did such a detailed analysis.
I’m not really that interested in the fine points of how I have changed. I will just note that it happened. The reality is that I wanted to sneak up on that question I was afraid to consider too openly: is my current work as good as my old work? With some reservations, I will say that the new is good.
What I do observe and mentioned before is that I have lost some of the child-like wonder and innocence that used to be there. I need to do more stupid, crazy, improbably things just to see what happens. Even if I’m pretty sure it won’t be a keeper. Just to see it.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Was it worth it
It is harder to definitively say it was worth it. This took a lot of time. But yes, critically reviewing what I considered my best work over the last 20 years was worth it. Just renewing the memories was worth it.
I tried to be brutal in my screening, but I am surprised that I only “demoted” about 20% of my collection. The changes in the quality of my sensors and lenses over time is obvious. A surprise is that did not necessarily affect my perception of the quality of the images. When a jpg image taken with an old 6 MPix sensor and only a fair lens can hold its own next to one taken with a great lens on a 47 MPix sensor shooting RAW, that says it is something other than just technical perfection.
Expressing this indefinable quality still eludes me. I got some insight on the effect, but I cannot clearly put it in words. But I guess some insight is more than I had before.
I called this exercise culling. It turned out to be much more. I encourage you to do something like this as a self-check.
A parting observation
I just went through my entire collection of “good” images. I had to edit quite a few of them while I was at it. They just needed it. I couldn’t pass over them without it.
While going back through the collection to review them for this article, I had to edit some of them again. Even though I had just been through them.
This brings up something I have learned about myself over the years: an image is an opinion that changes with time. Even over the course of a few weeks I can change my opinion. This is one reason prints are important. They freeze an opinion at a point in time.
May 20, 2026
Organizing Chaos
Sometimes it seems like that’s what photography is: an exercise in organizing chaos. Somehow, though, I love it.
Visual chaos
In a recent newsletter, RW Boyer was lamenting his inability to think like a landscape photographer where he lives: “Landscape photography is frustrating; there are a thousand things out of one’s control on any given day, in any given scene. … Joking aside, any sort of landscape photography is difficult in my region. The Chesapeake’s geography is flat. Wide scenics rarely work. There’s no immediately apparent foreground, middle, and background. There’s no distant elevations to guide one to obvious compositions. The charm and the feel are fleeting. In a word, the flat topography breeds chaos.”
Alas, the world outside is a chaotic place visually. Things just aren’t naturally arranged to make it convenient for us poor outdoor photographers. Plants are in the way. Trees aren’t in the right place for the best design. Rivers bend the wrong way. Clouds are too much or not enough or arranged wrong. The sun is on the wrong side. Weather doesn’t cooperate. Sigh.
I say that facetiously, of course. That chaos and the difficulty of making something pleasing out of a cluttered scene is one of the unique and challenging parts of photography. If it was too easy it would be difficult to create outstanding images.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Bringing order
I love this challenge. The inner designer in me rises to it. It is a very satisfying mental exercise to try to mold a chaotic scene into a clean and appealing image. This is one of the defining characteristics of photography. Painters start with a blank canvas and selectively add only the elements they want for their scene. But photographers must start with an existing, disordered scene and simplify it.
We have many techniques to apply to do this. Lens selection will widen or narrow our field of view. We can change our point of view to include significant parts or exclude distracting elements. Selective focus can emphasize the areas of attention. Exposure can be used to darken or blow out parts of the frame where you don’t want any detail. Long exposure can change moving elements into a different graphical design. These and other techniques give us great control over the arrangements of the parts.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Design
But above all, it is a design challenge. The tendency is to think of design as a careful, disciplined process that we do ahead of time. But that is not usually true of photography for me.
When we are there in the field, looking through our viewfinder, we see chaos and we must decide what to do with it. That is the type of photographic design I am referring to.
We must decide what is key to the scene and how to emphasize that and minimize distractions. Is it the S curve of a river or the graphical arrangement of branches? Is it the forms or the leading lines that draw the eye a certain way? Most scenes can be arranged to bring an interesting view. Some more than others, but most can be improved.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Work it
Following on from a previous post, we need to very consciously work to refine our design after we set it up. This is a weakness of mine that I plan to improve. When I walk up to a scene, I tend to do a tremendous amount of subconscious evaluation to select a composition. My natural tendency is to set up and shoot what I visualized as I came on the scene and stop there without taking it further.
But I know that many designs can be enhanced by exploring variations. I will try to discipline myself to do this more diligently. Move – left, right, up, down, near, far– look for improvements in the composition with slight shifts. Look closely at the entire frame to make sure there are no distracting elements that could be eliminated by in-camera techniques. Walk more to see if a more dramatic change of viewpoint could help.
Most of all, I need to make sure I look and think. What I have is good, but can I make it better?
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Framing
I wrote about the idea I called “Dancing with the Frame“. This is my take on my intuitive composition practice. This is closer to what I actually do in practice.
I know composition fairly well after many years of study and practice and failure. It is not a conscious process for me. I realize that this seems in conflict with the disciplined refinement approach I outlined above, but that is part of the ambiguity I deal with.
Viewing a potential photograph through my viewfinder invokes a dynamic design activity. I move, zoom, focus, and change the exposure in an almost automatic hunt. It is not that I can’t express my design thoughts, but that I don’t have time to.
I am moving to minimize clutter, increase the dynamism of the composition, clarify and simplify, or improve the lighting. When “it” happens, I recognize it and press the shutter. Perhaps I keep going to see if I can improve it or create a derivative composition that also works. I might keep going as long as things keep happening or I am discovering new insights.
The dynamic power of the frame is a strong force. When I see things come into a good composition, I act on it. The trigger is often intuitive. It happens before I can express it verbally.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Don’t over analyze
A caution, though. Don’t over analyze the situation. Design and creation should be an act of joy. When you are learning new techniques, it is normal to have to slow down and concentrate a lot on what you are doing. But try to get to the point where it flows naturally. To where you move with it and follow your instincts. Trust your instincts.
Another caution is that composition is important, but it is not what the picture is about. I have many images that are formally good compositions, but are relegated to lower ranks in my filing system. Ultimately, the picture must be interesting, too.
Shooting in the outdoors should be energizing. We should feel excited about what we are seeing and capturing. Outdoor photography exists in a world of chaos. We must learn to deal with it, use it, and still come up with excellent images. It is about organizing chaos. We can’t control it, really, but we must make images that look like we did.
Creativity is exciting and invigorating. Most of us aren’t going to get rich at this. We should at least have fun and feel satisfied. Making something interesting out of what seems like chaos is rewarding.
This is a journey of discovery. Enjoy the journey and have fun!
May 13, 2026
Accept the Gift
I believe that many of our most interesting photo opportunities are gifts presented to us. We must accept the gift.
A gift
I save a lot of quotes. Some are to trigger writing topics and others are collected wisdom I refer to on occasion. Or both.
I was recently impacted by the repeated message of several quotes I encountered in series. They were from different people and different sources, but together they had a message for me.
Here are 4 in no particular order:
The best compositions are the ones you don’t look for.
Alister Benn
Photography by wandering around: exploring without specific goals or expectations in mind, taking a slow pace, seeking to see beyond the most obvious features of a landscape, and enjoying the process regardless of the results.
Sarah Marino
Without expectations, I am open to serendipity, and that allows the world to present itself.
Don Giannatti
Creativity isn’t merely a gift; it’s a craft that requires cultivation and flourishes when we allow our brain to notice what it previously categorized as mundane and filtered from our consciousness.
Chrissy Donadi
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Could not plan it
A common element in these is the acknowledgment that my best work comes more from recognition than planning. My experience is that “I’m going to this place to make this particular picture” is not nearly as effective as “Wow, I’ve never noticed the way that looks in this light.” Discovery trumps planning for me.
Maybe I have a skewed definition of planning. I often “plan” shoots in a sense. If there are storms boiling up, I want to get to a place where I can get a good view of them (without getting my car pounded by large hail). When there is a good snowfall I will sometimes try to decide where the fresh snow might look nice. If I am flying somewhere I will try to get a window seat. There may be nothing to photograph, but I can’t if I’m not by a window.
This is the extent of the planning I do for a photo shoot. I try to put myself in a place that might have interest. Then I rely on my curiosity and vision to guide me to discover compelling images.
I need to restate what I have said many times: I am a fine art photographer. I do not shoot for clients. The results I create are first and foremost to please me. That is my only criteria.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Be ready
A key behind this style of working is the need to be ready. We must be mindful of ourselves and our surroundings. Of little things we ordinarily pass by and grand scenes that call to be a picture. Of the way the light is interacting with things, of textures, of coincidences that bring things together.
Being able to react to things like this is only possible if we are thoughtful. Our minds must be engaged and not distracted. Email, social media, probably even our favorite playlists take us away from being thoughtful. They make us inwardly focused instead of being receptive to the visual world around us.
When you are walking, can you turn off the distractions and keep your attention focused on the world around you? When you are driving, can you stay conscious of what is passing by rather than being internally focused? It is too easy to be concentrating more on your to-do list or what that rude driver ahead of you did or what’s on the radio.
Our world tries to demand all of our attention. But our attention is too valuable to let them. have it. We should control where and when we use it.
If we want to be receptive to discovering the unplanned pictures that are all around us, we must control our attention and direct it to that purpose.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Know what to do
Then when one of these happy circumstances presents itself, we must know what to do. That is usually not the time to be trying to remember how to use our equipment. Unless you are just getting started on your photography journey, it is not the time to be thinking much about aperture or shutter speed settings or trying to remember the rules you have heard about composition.
Maybe a first step that should not even need to be stated is that without a camera you are not going to take any pictures. Carry your camera. I have discovered that when I pick up my camera it is a statement of intent, a signal to myself. I now go into a mindset of thinking about pictures.
And remember that your camera is just a tool. We must learn our tools well, until using them is second nature. I don’t want to set the bar too high. Never be discouraged to go out shooting just because you are not expert enough with your camera yet. You might miss some shots or be discouraged by the results. That’s OK. It is about learning and experience. They take time. Henri Cartier-Bresson said that our first 10,000 pictures are our worst.
A goal we strive for is for our tools to become an extension of our mind. To the point where we almost forget they are there. Our hands and eye and mind work together automatically to create the image. Our thought is on the composition, not much on the mechanics of using the camera.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Use it
To circle back to the opening quotes, a lot of the best photography is about wandering and being open and receptive. It’s often about the ability to see interest in the mundane things you used to ignore. or the way the light is playing on a subject
And always be ready to accept the gift of serendipity. Great things are often the result of good fortune, of happy coincidences. Being in a good location at a good time helps, but serendipity is more important.
Be grateful. Say thank you and take the picture. Enjoy the process.
But that good fortune will go by unnoticed if we are not paying attention, if we are not receptive. That missed opportunity may never repeat.
I hope that motivates us to disconnect from the noise sources that are demanding our attention and instead be open to the world around us.
May 6, 2026