Ed Schlotzhauer

An artists journey

Category: Craft

You Still Need To Backup
Backup is one of those hygiene subjects we would rather not think about or talk about. But it is important. You need to backup intentionally and consistently.
Film days
Back in the “good ole’ days of film”, (they weren’t really the good days) we never had to worry about backup. The developed film was the permanent physical backup.
All we had to worry about was storing it properly and in a fireproof location. These days, finding a fireproof location is more of a challenge. Photographers who had some exceptionally valuable images might have duplicate film images created and stored in a vault or safety deposit box.
I have many filing cabinet drawers full of slides and negatives. Sadly, I never look at them. Partly because they are old and I have improved a lot and changed my interests some. But mainly because, being physical instead of digital, they are hard to search and locate. I can’t see me ever taking the time to scan them all.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Digital days
I expect the majority of you reading this shoot digital exclusively. I know I do. Digital has many advantages. Obviously, since it has almost completely taken over photography.
But digital. has a huge disadvantage. The image data is ephemeral. It has no physical presence. If we delete the file, it is gone. Permanently, if it is not backed up.
What would happen if your main image disk said “poof” and a little smoke leaks out? All your images are gone unless they are backed up. As if they never existed. Most of us would consider this a disaster.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Disks fail
But disks are very reliable, aren’t they? We can find published reliability numbers like 1,000,000 hours MTBF (mean time before failure). That sounds very safe.
But those are projected statistics for large numbers of disks. My particular drive could fail tomorrow. And they do. I am sitting here looking at a stack of 11 failed disk drives that I am waiting to get in the mood to take outside and smash with a sledge hammer.
SSD drives seem to be more reliable than rotating magnetic disks. Seem to be. But let me reveal a dirty secret about solid state drives: they are so unreliable that they are extensively engineered to mask their failures. Bits fail all the time. Whole sections of an SSD can go bad. The drives have sophisticated error correction algorithms built in to allow for this and keep them functioning with no apparent data loss. Kind of like RAID built in.
They haven’t been around long enough to have conclusive data, but in general, SSD’s seem to be more reliable than magnetic disks. But they fail.
Don’t get me wrong, SSD’s are an improvement, and I will switch when prices go down enough for the quantity of storage I need. My point, though, is that SSD’s still fail. They are not some magical device you can forever trust your valuable images to and be guaranteed safe.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Clouds fail
So, the obvious solution seems to be put all your data in the cloud. Right? Let somebody else handle the storage management.
There are problems. Cloud storage gets pretty expensive in the quantities most serious photographers need. And keep in mind that this is an ongoing expense.
And how fast is your internet for upload speed? I am fortunate to be served by one of the best internet providers in the nation. Theoretically, in perfect conditions, I could upload a Terabyte of data to the cloud in a little over 3 hours. IF everything is perfect and if the cloud storage could accept data that fast. Previous internet providers I had would take weeks to upload this much data, because upload speed was much slower than the download speed.
But even if you successfully get your data into the cloud, it is now at the mercy of the service you use. They can go out of business, or change business models, or raise prices. If you use Azure or the Amazon cloud your data is probably pretty safe. Maybe even Adobe. But you have no control. I like to control what is important to me.
Lightroom cloud?
Maybe the Lightroom cloud storage is the right answer for you. It is for some. If you are just starting out in photography, it may be ideal for you.
The latest data I saw said Adobe offers up to 1TByte of storage. That’s the tip of the iceberg of the 10 TBytes of image data I currently have. If they offer that much storage, it would be expensive. If I work an image in Photoshop and composite multiple images and use lots of layers, it can exceed 4GBytes for one image. That eats up terabytes fast.
And to access your images, you must have internet access. I have a fantastic internet provider, but outages still happen occasionally. Yes, Lightroom stores a highly compressed small version of images locally on your computer, but that does.not seem good enough to me.
There are some other reasons I will not use the cloud version of Lightroom, but they are not directly related to backup problems.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Seize control
Digital image data is a blessing and a curse. There are significant advantages to it, but never forget, it can easily go away.
So we must proactively manage our data. That means backup. An aggressive, thorough backup plan that you monitor. This is a time to be paranoid.
If you are on a Mac, step one is to plug in a large external disk and enable Time Machine. This is the automatic backup system built into Macs. It is so good that it may, all by itself, be a reason to switch to Macs. I’m not kidding. Make sure it is configured to also backup your image data.
I will give you a glimpse into how paranoid I am in protecting my data. Even though my main image storage is a RAID system, my data is backed up hourly to Time Machine, and daily to two external disks, one of which is a network attached RAID drive. Every week I also make a copy that I keep offsite, and about once a month I make another snapshot of my data that is kept offline and safe.
Some local backup with a layer of cloud backup is a feasible alternative now, but so far, I have chosen not to go that route.
That sounds like a lot of work, but except for the weekly and monthly offsite backups that are not normally physically connected, it is all automatic. Thank you Time Machine and Carbon Copy Cloner. The CCC plug is FYI and just to let you know the specific tool I use. I get no consideration for recommending it.©Ed Schlotzhauer
Make it automatic
I admit, I am paranoid about my digital assets. They have been created over a long time with lots of work and expense, and they are precious to me. I do not intend to loose them because of a preventable accident.
Earlier I mentioned a stack of 11 failed disk drives. That is just the current accumulation. Many more have failed over my time of being a digital photographer. But I have never lost a file because of a disk failure.
I believe a well thought out, in depth backup plan is a must for any serious photographer today. Perhaps I overdo it. But I am not willing to take the risk of doing too little.
I have tried to be clear that this is just my way of doing backup. Like all photographic workflow decisions, it is usually a personal choice. Yours may be lighter weight or more rigorous. Do what works for you. But do it.
Do not let backup be something you might remember to do once in a while, if you think of it. You won’t think of it at the right time. The clock is ticking.
September 17, 2025
Run & Gun
There are arguments for working slowly and carefully. But there are times when we must be fast and in automatic reaction mode. There is no one-size-fits-all in photography. Sometimes the best choice, or your only choice, is run & gun.
What is run & gun
I doubt there are any hard definitions of this, but by run & gun I mean shooting fast and without prior planning. It is working fluidly, rapidly, instinctively, without setups or lots of takes.
This is often constrained by external circumstances. The. idea comes to mind for me because I just got back from a vacation in Europe where I was put in exactly this situation on most of the tours I did. These were not specific photo tours. Rather, one where the guide says, “here is the Strasbourg Cathedral; go in and look around and meet back here in 15 minutes.” Gulp. No planning, no chance to work the scene, no bracketing, not even a tripod. I have never even seen this place before and do not know what to expect, other than that it is one of the tallest churches in the world.
Other situations where this is necessary are sports photography, concert photography, or candid wedding photography. All are places where we cannot control the action or pose the subjects.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Arguments for slow
It’s easy to argue the merits of shooting slow. We have time to contemplate, to consider options. To walk around and look at different angles. Maybe to wait for better light.
This is the kind of shooting Ansel Adams or John Fielder would do. When you are carrying heavy, large format cameras way out into the field and exposing expensive film plates, it imposes a discipline on you.
You would always use a tripod (necessary for slow film anyway). You would compose carefully and thoughtfully. Exposures would be calculated in detail, maybe using the Zone System to make sure all the tones are captured and placed where you can do the darkroom work you want later.
In slow shooting you may go out for a day of shooting and come back with a dozen or so exposed images. But each is very carefully considered.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Arguments for working a scene
On the other hand, in Light, Space, and Time: Essays on Camera Craft and Creativity, (I get no consideration for the reference) David duChemin argues eloquently for working a scene thoroughly. That is, to shoot your first instinct, then to move and shoot more, look at it from different angles, try to refine your idea and improve on what you did.
He says that, when teaching workshops, if a student says they are not happy with their work, he scans through their images on their camera. He is not looking for technique but for the number of frames they shot of it. His point is that if the student shot 3 images of something and then stopped, they did not explore the possibilities adequately.
I believe most photographers would improve their work if they did this. Most of us shoot digital now, so we are not limited by the cost or bulk of film. We can review our images immediately on the camera. This quick feedback can help, especially if we are learning composition and camera technique.
It is amazing how even a slight movement or re-framing can make a huge difference in the impact of an image. Having the time and self-discipline to do this can be beneficial.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Arguments for shooting less
On yet another hand, I just read an article by a friend, Dean Allen, arguing that we should shoot less. His is a minimalist argument. The burden of sifting through all those excess images we shoot to find the few good ones is time consuming. It is hard to find the needles in the haystack.
Doing this would certainly save a lot of time culling and editing. I think most photographers would rather be out making images instead of sitting at the computer. So yes, in this sense, fewer is better.
It sounds attractive to say to only shoot the good ones, but I would counter that it is very hard to tell at the time which one will be the best.
But when that doesn’t work
There are situations where one of these disciplined approaches can’t be used effectively. I mentioned being on a tour with limited time to see a spectacular location. There are others.
My nature is that I do not like to perturb a situation to set up a shot. Whether that is on a tour in a cathedral or at a sports event or a family gathering or doing street photography, I prefer to accept what I find then use my skill and experience to be able to get a good image.
This is a basic conflict with my wife. She thinks good pictures of people have them lined up in front of whatever the scene is, staring at the camera, with big smiles on their faces. I would never do this. To me the shot to work for is a candid capture that reveals someone’s personality or thoughts or feelings. One that shows them doing something natural and characteristic.
Not trying to control the situation is a healthy acceptance of reality. And an opportunity for creativity.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Skill and reflexes
Sometimes you must shoot fast and instinctively. There is no opportunity for planning or even thinking much. The run & gun approach. This is a learned skill. One that I enjoy working on.
To me this is a kind of dance between me and the subject. They are moving or doing whatever they do, and I have to be in sync with them, to anticipate the movement, to recognize the right composition and moment and be ready to react instantly.
It would be nice at times to be able to spend time to move and re-frame and shoot lots of trials, but that is usually not an option in this style of shooting. I find that I am in reaction mode. That is not bad. It is a kind of hunting, where I have a general idea of what I want, and I am patiently looking and waiting for the situation or composition to develop, then I must recognize it and act fast.
It is a rush of adrenaline and satisfaction when I press the shutter and know I have captured a good image.
One way to practice this is to go to a High School football game. Decide what the interest is to you – the action on the field, the sidelines, the cheerleaders, the fans – and to concentrate on that.
If you have kids or grandkids, they are a rich opportunity. They will be comfortable enough with you around that they will ignore you and go about their play.
Using a camera is the best practice, because you are working with the actual framing and exposure and lighting and people. And the get the real feedback to see how you did.
But sometimes in these situations, I simulate it. That is, I imagine I am using a certain focal length lens, I try to visualize the composition as the camera would see it, then think “click” when I would press the shutter. It is good practice for reacting, but you do not get the feedback of seeing actual results.
Expect lots of bad pictures until you get the timing and reflexes. Don’t be discouraged when good results do not come fast. Keep on learning and practicing. Even after a lot of practice, do not expect the same percentage of keepers you normally get.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Adapt to the situation
I do not believe there is a single right approach to photography, unless you are a commercial photographer in a narrow product niche. Different situations present different opportunities and challenges. It is good to practice approaching scenes from a variety of perspectives and with different skill sets.
Shooting in a run & gun manner is right for some times. And there is a certain wild exuberance from shooting this way. Especially if you are comfortable with it and you have practiced enough to have a good success rate. It is one of my preferred ways to work.
I love the challenge of taking things as I find them and seeing what I can make of them. In some situations, it may be the only way to shoot.
Try it. You may love it.
September 10, 2025
Switch On
What engages your creativity? What gets you up from the chair and out the door shooting. I have discovered I have a trigger to switch me on, and it is so simple I barely recognized it.
Need to shoot
I think many of us who shoot for the joy and the creativity of it tend to stay in a mindful state. When I am driving or riding somewhere it seems I am often looking at everything passing with a view to framing and composing shots. Mentally, I click off a lot that I wish I could see.
At this stage of my life journey, I feel a need to shoot. To capture what I see, and to bring some new creativity to it. It is a frustration to me to see interesting scenes and not be able to shoot them. But I am not always doing it and moving and in the flow.
Sometimes there is a kind of inertia holding me back. There are times I feel too busy, or my thoughts are on something else. This is part of life and often unavoidable, but sometimes it is just a kind of procrastination. I’m not feeling in the “mood”. At those times when I could and should be thinking photography, I sometimes must kick-start myself to begin shooting.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Permission to shoot
I have discovered that I sometimes need to do something to motivate myself. As I write this, it is 93°F out, on the way to 103°F. That saps my energy.
I need a way to increase my desire to shoot to the point it overcomes my inertia or dislike of the weather or the time involved or whatever it is that is holding me back.
One simple technique I have learned is simply to pick up my camera. Sounds silly and too easy to be of use. But it often works on me.
I haven’t done any deep psychological analysis on myself, but I believe holding the camera – or even the camera bag – gives me permission to take pictures. The weight of the physical object is real and compelling. I am familiar with it and comfortable with it. I like the way it feels in my hands. We have history of doing good work together. Something is awakened and barriers are set aside.
With a camera in hand, or even in my camera bag, I am a photographer. An artist. Photographers are expected to take pictures. I should be out shooting. It becomes the easier path.
Wherever I am, on a city street, in an airport, driving down the road, I should feel completely secure and justified taking pictures. If I am looking foolish staring at something other people do not see, that is OK. They are not artists, or at least, they’re not me.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Nothing interesting
I am mostly over worrying about what other people think. What matters is the art I can create.
A favorite story of mine is a time I was on a trail near where I live. I think I had my tripod set up to shoot a tree by a river. A woman walking by stopped to see what I was shooting and pronounced “I see nothing interesting here”.
I almost burst out laughing. For her to dismiss my vision just because she could not envision what I was seeing seemed ridiculous. That helped me to be much less concerned about other people’s opinion when I am pursuing an image. Rather than shaming me, it reinforced my independent streak.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
When I pick up my camera a switch turns on and I am now in a focused mode of seeing. What people think, fear of looking silly, or of calling attention to myself (a nightmare for an introvert) no longer matters. Of course, I will not be rude or offensive. That is not my nature. But within reason, I will do what I feel compelled to do.
Creativity
Just picking up my camera does not mean I am in a super creative zone. I may have to start shooting a while to get the energy flowing enough to fully engage my mind. But I find that just a few shutter clicks somehow releases most of the chains binding my brain and I relax and start flowing.
As my inspiration, Jay Maisel, said: If you are out there shooting, things will happen for you. If you’re not out there, you’ll only hear about it. I consider that whatever trick I use to get me motivated to start framing images and pressing the shutter release is worth it. Then things start happening.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Pick it up
So, when I am not in the “mood” for photography, just picking up my camera will usually jolt me out of my lethargy. Somehow, it signals me to switch on and get into seeing images.
To follow up on where I started earlier, I reluctantly put on my camera bag and went out in the heat. We had a nice walk and even shot a few images. It was not as bad as I expected, and I’m glad I made myself get out. To be prudent, I did shave a few miles off my normal outing and took extra water.
Do you have a trick you use to get going when you don’t feel like doing it? Picking up my camera is my signal to switch on. What about you?
August 6, 2025
The Camera as Teacher
We often are told that as photographers, we need to learn to see. Yes, but… There are probably at least 2 parts to that, learning to be more mindful and learning to see as the camera does. In this second case, the camera will show us what it can do. We need to understand the camera as teacher.
Seeing
If we don’t see a scene and recognize its potential, then we will not photograph it. This type of seeing is based on perception and attention, not the quality of our eyesight. I advocate this type of mindfulness in many of my writings.
This kind of seeing can be learned and practiced. A camera is not even required. David duChemin had an intriguing statement in Light, Space, and Time: “We see through the lens of our thoughts.”
I recommend that we become so obsessed with our art that we see almost everything as a potential image and be plotting how to capture it best. Obviously, there are some times and scenes we would not want to do that, but it can be our default behavior. It is good training. When I am driving or walking around, I am usually playing a “what’s here and how would I capture it” game in my mind.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Seeing as the camera does
Seeing potential shots around us does not assure we will execute them well. There is a huge difference between how we see the world and how our camera records it.
As we become serious about our art, we must become serious about learning our tools and medium. These are our means of expression. A pre-visualization of the greatest scene we have ever imagined is not much use if we cannot realize the shot.
The camera has its own strengths and weaknesses that characterize what it can and cannot do. Any medium does. This is not a limitation so much as a creative opportunity.
Our eyes
Our eyes are marvelous devices. And when I say “eye” I consider the whole path from the lens into our brain. Our visual system.
I will not try to. analyze this, only point out a few ways our visual system is completely different from a camera.
Our eyes and our camera both have a lens and a “sensor”. The eye’s sensor is the retina. This is about the extent of the parallels.
Our camera has a flat, 2-dimensional silicon sensor that captures the scene all at once, in parallel. That is, the entire sensor is exposed to the light coming through the lens while the shutter is open, and this makes one image capture. The pixels are all equally sensitive to light.
Our eyes, though, are not uniformly sensitive. There is a region of the retina that has the most resolving power (the fovea). So, unconsciously to us, our eyes are always scanning our field of view. This process is called saccade. Our 2 eyes jump and focus together momentarily on a point. Then we move on to another point. We repeat this several times a second.
Through this process, our marvelous brain works with our eyes to paint this information together into a smooth, seamless visual sensation in full 3D. We effectively have real time HDR, panoramic vision, and image stitching – in 3D.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Meaning
Even more exciting is that our brain also constantly tries to make sense of what we see. Scientists postulate that we utilize a bottom-up then top-down analysis process to understand scenes and to develop meaning. And we do this in. milliseconds.
We tend to see what we pay attention to. If we are looking for something or if we are concerned about something, we see it more readily. The brain constantly attempts to give us the meaning we need in what we see. The process seems also to be directed by our knowledge and expectations.
Our cameras do not search for meaning. At least, not yet. Eye tracking is not meaning. People detection is a focus aid, not meaning.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
The medium of photography
All that helps to let us see that the camera does not see like we do. So if we want to use the camera as a tool for our art, we must learn what it does. Then we can use it for what it can do and stop wishing for what we would like it to do.
We point our camera at a scene and press the shutter, but the results are not what we expect. Was this a failure on our part? Perhaps it is better viewed as a learning opportunity.
If we used a very fast shutter speed, movement in the scene was frozen. This is different from what our eyes perceive.
Maybe we used a very long shutter speed and discovered that all the motion is blurred. Again, our eyes do not perceive this.
Or we shot it with a wide aperture of, say f/4, only to find that much of the image is out of focus. But we are used to our eyes “seeing” everything in focus.
If you hand hold your camera you may be disappointed to find that many of your frames are not as sharp as you intended. After all, our eyes seldom perceive things as unsharp, but in the camera there is a balance of exposure settings to juggle to get a crisp image exposed properly.
We pointed the camera at a brightly lit daylight scene and found that some highlights were overexposed, and some shadows were underexposed. Our eyes usually see everything correctly exposed. The automatic HDR we employ can lead us to forget that the camera can’t do that.
Through experiments like these, and many more, we eventually learn how the camera will capture a scene under almost any condition. It takes some experience, and a lot of thrown away images. The camera gives us feedback by faithfully recording the scene according to how we adjusted it. We may not always be happy with the result. Failure is a great teacher.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Limitations help define art
But eventually it is no longer mysterious. We learn to control the tools we have and make them work for us. Our camera becomes a means to realize our vision.
Along the way, we discover something marvelous. These limitations we had to learn to work around are opportunities for artistic expression.
For instance, we have a whole new perspective on time. The camera can slice time down to thousandths of a second to stop motion. Or it can keep its shutter open for seconds or more to show the effect of motion over time. Our eyes and brain cannot do this, so now we can open whole new views on the world.
We can intentionally underexpose a foreground to create a dramatic silhouette. Or we can intentionally overexpose the scene to produce a dreamy washout. Basically, we can alter the exposure values to any degree we wish to create the effect we like. They do not always have to be “correct”. What we see with our eyes is almost always correct.
We can superimpose multiple layers or remove distracting elements. Want to feature the form of something? Black & white is excellent for that. With the right tools we can peer into almost total darkness or shoot a picture of the surface of the sun. We need our camera and software to do these things. Our eyes can’t.
A good tool is a force multiplier. It allows us to do things we could not do unaided.
As we listen and let the camera teach us what it can do, we discover new artistic possibilities. Maybe we want to use them. Maybe not. That is up to us and how these things fit in our vision. But the toolbox becomes larger and better stocked as we learn more.
So, when you look at an image and think “Wow, what just happened here?”, maybe that is an opportunity to discover a new feature of the world of photography. One that you might be able to exploit to your advantage. The camera can become our teacher.
July 30, 2025
Confidence
I believe one of the things we develop as we mature as photographers is confidence. Not arrogance, but certainty in who we are and what we want to do.
Introvert
I’m an introvert. I suspect many of you are, too. Introversion seems to be strong in artists. After all, what we do is not really about social events or winning contests or getting to praise ourselves. If you seek those things, you are probably an extrovert and you do art for entirely different reasons than I do.
As an introvert, you wouldn’t think at first that confidence is one of the traits I would claim. But confidence comes from competence. We know we can do what we need to do. We know what we like and when we find it, we are confident we can deal with it well.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Arrogance
This is not arrogance. Arrogance gets into hubris and self-importance. Confidence is the simple assurance that I can do it. Now, the “it” may be different for different people. For me, it is that I know that when I see a scene I want, I can photograph it in a way that will make an image I will be proud of. That does not mean I know how to make that image well known and sought after in galleries. That is a whole different skill set.
But our confidence is arrogance if we believe we are too good to learn how to improve. We should always listen to criticism. And be our own worst critic. Learning and practicing and trying to improve are part of our life-long growth.
Confidence also lets me stay away from things I know I would not like or would be bad at. For example, if, for some strange reason, you came and asked me to shoot a wedding, I would turn you down. Even if the money is great, I know from experience that I would hate it. I do not enjoy the pressure of a bride’s expectations and performing to someone else’s shot list. And I really do not enjoy trying to pose people and make them seem like they’re having fun.
But if you want me for a second shooter to get candid shots, we might do a deal. I love shooting spontaneous moments, and I’m often pleased with the results. Studying people and anticipating a good moment is fun for me.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Not technical skill
The confidence I am talking about is not mainly in the technical side of photography. I have done photography for many years, and I am introspective enough to learn from my mistakes. Technical skill should be a given for a serious photographer.
You won’t find me “chimping” a lot, checking the back of the camera to see if I got the shot. I may check to verify I nailed the focus and placed moving elements in the right position or got the right blur if it is a slow shutter speed. But the technology of making a properly exposed image is rather straightforward.
I urge you to practice to the point where you are confident in your ability to get what you visualize. It makes me wonder when I hear photographers asking a workshop leader or another photographer what exposure they used. That is basic craftsmanship that we must put in the reps to learn.
Besides, our cameras do a wonderful job of helping us out. With great auto focus, including eye tracking, with powerful computers analyzing the overall exposure, even giving us real-time histograms, with constantly improving sensors with great dynamic range, it gets easier all the time. I remember when shooting film, there was always the fear of not exposing correctly. Now, with digital systems, our technical confidence should be high.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Vision
Our vision shapes our work, and it is unique to each of us. Confidence bolsters our creativity. We see connections and possibilities. Scenes are recognized intuitively as aligning with our vision. Our confidence encourages our creativity to express new insights, because we know we can do that new thing we have never tried.
We are self-assured to go for it, to stretch for that artistic vision just out of reach.
And even if we could not quite reach far enough this time, we know we did the right thing by trying and next time we will be even better equipped to succeed. Our confidence is built by failure, because each failure brings us closer to our goal.
We take in information, blend it in our brains, and a random spark ignites some sort of alchemy. Whole new things emerge. We’re almost spectators in the process. But confidence tells us what is happening, that we have seen it before, and we will go with it to see where it leads us. Confidently.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Independence
Despite its potential for good, more often social media is a force for conformity. When we are unsure of ourselves and rely on likes or comments for feedback on our worth, we are channeled to do work like everything else we see there.
The “same as everybody else” images get likes. But the fresh, possibly genre-bending new things are voted down. Until a well-known influencer picks it up and starts promoting it. Then, suddenly, everyone is doing it.
Our confidence in our own vision and ability should help us break out of this stifling cycle. If you’re out shooting with 10 other photographers and you see something they ignore, will you shoot it? I hope so. That is confidence in yourself.
Confidence helps give us independence. We do not have to follow what someone else thinks. We do not have to do work that is mostly like what an “authority” thinks is good.
It is a wonderful freedom to set our own standards and select our own subjects and treatments. This allows us to make the art we can bring to the world, not someone else’s.
Color outside the lines
So confidently color outside the lines. Or inside, if that is what you prefer. Or don’t do that paint-by-numbers sheet at all. Go find your own blank frame to fill in.
Outside, inside, saturated or black & white, tack sharp or blurred, rule of thirds or not, shoot at the golden hour or at noon. Find what you are called to do right now and confidently do it.
No one can tell you what you must like. No one can tell you what picture you must make. That should come solely from within you. Have confidence in yur vision and ability.
July 16, 2025