An artists journey

Category: Fear

  • Style Trends

    Style Trends

    Does photography follow style trends? Of course. Most everything does. Is that bad? Maybe. Maybe not. I think it depends on why you do it.

    People follow trends

    Whole industries exist to create changing trends. People follow the trends, because their influencers do and we want to maintain status by being like them.

    Try to think of something that does not follow trends. Clothes fashions do. Hair fashions do. Car styling does. “Health” trends come and go. Advice on dating or raising kids or looking for jobs changes all the time. Home decor and even houses themselves change all the time.

    Think about it: how valuable is it to the trend setting companies to have us follow trends? They make billions because we are frequently compelled to change our wardrobe or home decor or technology products. If things were static, much more money would stay in our pocket rather than being transferred to theirs. Guess what their goal is.

    Gold mannekin©Ed Schlotzhauer

    Photography does, too

    Photography is not at all immune to this. Some of what we follow is technology improvements. And I am glad of much of that. We now have mirrorless cameras, high resolution sensors, better software editing tools, improved printers, and much more.

    I am not a Luddite where it comes to improved products.

    But the work we create may also vary with drifting waves of style trends. Much of what we see, especially online, is people following a popular style or copying what a respected influencer does. At various times we have seen lots of black & white with crushed blacks reminiscent of Ansel Adams. Or brash pop art treatments in the style of Andy Warhol. Or weirdly colored simulated cross processing effects. Intentional camera movement is probably in the trend list.

    There are whole libraries and applications available to change our digital images to look like your favorite film, because a film look is popular now. The limitations and distortions are sought after to recapture aspects of some remembered “good old days” of photography.

    And remember the garish results when HDR first became popular? I’m glad that wave passed quickly. Actually, it did not pass, it’s just that we have better technology allowing us to use it, when necessary, without looking fake.

    Lately, highly processed “high tech” looks are in vogue. We have great tools now to increase sharpening and contrast far beyond what used to could be done. We have AI to remove defects or elements we don’t want. Or to add any elements we wish had been there. It. is natural to overdo it sometimes when experimenting with new capability.

    It used to be that our camera and film determined the look we would get. Now that anything can be simulated or created, it brings up the question of what photographic art really is.

    Deep, rich, crushed blacks©Ed Schlotzhauer

    Is it supposed to be “true”?

    Just today (as I was writing this) I read a rant by a photographer decrying that many people misuse clarity and texture controls and end up creating something that is not completely true to the original.

    But what does it mean to be “true”? Must a photograph be an exact copy of the original scene? If that is your goal, prepare to be disappointed. An image cannot be the original scene. It is a 2-dimensional projection through a lens onto a light sensitive sensor, processed through lots of software, and printed on a substrate with inks that absorb light rather than emitting it. Each stage introduces faults and distortions.

    At best, you could produce a print that you would say looks a lot like the original.

    But is that the real goal? Or should we shoot to produce an artistic representation of our response to a scene?

    If this is the goal, as it is for me, then who is to say it is a fault if our artistic creation departs from what the original was? These intentional departures sometimes follow popular trends.

    Terra Incognita©Ed Schlotzhauer

    Styles

    If our image is an artistic creation, then introducing trending styles is OK. I don’t necessarily think it is good, but no one should say it is bad. But “because everybody else is doing it” is not persuasive to me.

    Some people feel compelled to follow the style du jour to be popular and get “likes” on social media. If that is your goal, do what you have to do.

    If you are a wedding photographer, I can believe that what brides want is strongly influenced by what they see in the current issue of Bride’s magazine. Likewise, some commercial shooters must follow styles because that is what their customers want. Today.

    Styles, by definition, are fashion. They are transient. In my view, they should not be the thing that defines your art. In the same way that you are not your clothes or the car you drive.

    Dilapidated old store©Ed Schlotzhauer

    Follow your instincts

    Our artistic vision develops over time as we have experiences and see great work and practice and try things and find out what resonates with us. Styles are “high frequency” noise. They come and go rapidly and should not greatly influence the vision we are building. Styles should be recognized as temporary trends.

    Our artistic expression comes from something inside of us. Our particular way of seeing that is different from other people. Styles try to make everybody the same. But we should fight that normalizing force and strive to be ourselves.

    So, experiment with styles when you want. Use it as a learning experience. Or maybe just for fun. “Try on” some and see if there is anything about them you want to keep. It should be guiltless. But don’t let the current prevailing style trend define your art. Trending styles are neither good or bad. Know that if you try to build your reputation on one, it will change out from under you soon.

    And do not feel like a failure or left out if the art within you is not what you see the influencers pushing today. It is more important to be true to one’s self. Next week the style will change, but we must keep creating our art. Be confident about your artistic decisions.

  • Just Taking Pictures

    Just Taking Pictures

    I need to get back to the simple joy of taking pictures. Just having fun and exploring creatively. No pressure.

    Pressure

    Taking pictures used to be fun. Now, it seems I worry too much about whether it is a great picture, a portfolio image, does it further a project I am working on?

    That puts a lot of pressure on me.

    I seem to get caught up in feeling like the images are “important” and that, somehow, I am being judged by the quality of every one I take. When I got to the point that I could occasionally take a pretty good picture, then somehow, an attitude developed that all of them need to be excellent. That if most of them weren’t “winners”, then I must be losing my edge, backsliding. The artistic muse must be gone.

    This is silly when you think of it. After all, I would never show you most of my photos. The mediocre ones (hopefully) get culled out. But there is a natural reaction that some of us have that leads to a fear of failure. At some point we are afraid, or at least discouraged, to do more work for fear that it will not be as good as what we did in the past.

    I can understand this. It happens to me, but I am trying hard to not accept it. At the minimum, it leads to my photography becoming work, a chore instead of fun. That pressure to always exceed my best can suck the joy out of my art.

    Abstract. Could be a volcano?©Ed Schlotzhauer

    Who is it for?

    I need to keep reminding myself who the real audience is. Who is your audience? I sometimes forget.

    If you must produce a high-quality image from a shoot for a client contract, you are clear who the audience is. And you have the pressure of having to create to client demands. That is a clear pressure situation that you have willingly accepted by signing the contract.

    Or if you feel pressure to post daily shots that will get “likes” from your internet viewers, that is another clear pressure situation that you have bought into. You have pressure to shoot for your viewer’s tastes rather than your own.

    Those generally do not apply to me, though. I may occasionally shoot for someone, and I occasionally post images to the internet, like in these articles. But in almost all cases, I am the audience that matters. That is what I must keep in mind.

    Red barn, red truck©Ed Schlotzhauer

    Inhibition

    There must be a “so what” here. If I lose sight of who I am shooting for, what are the consequences?

    The consequence to me is the pressure that builds to always exceed the best of what I have done. A result of this is that I shut down. I feel inhibited from taking any pictures. I look at something that seems interesting and think “yes, but I may not be able to make an outstanding picture from that.” So, I don’t shoot. I don’t take the chance.

    I find that when I get stuck in this self-imposed pressure trap, I lose my will to take pictures. Nothing seems worthwhile. I don’t feel “inspired.” I have come to understand that much of this is really inhibition caused by fear of not living up to my past performance, combined with fear of moving away from what has worked in the past.

    If I only shoot “safe” scenes, this leads me to becoming less creative with time. Stagnating. I’m boxing myself in. Creativity inspires taking chances, doing things that probably will not make a great picture, but may answer a question or lead to something new. But this is the messy way new ideas and approaches are discovered. It is risk taking and exploration.

    Tunnel through the mountains©Ed Schlotzhauer

    Inspiration

    When you’re low and feeling uninspired, what do you do? All the artists through time have experienced this, I’m sure there must be a variety of strategies. There are 2 I have worked out that are usually effective for me.

    One, probably the big one, is to get up and do something. If I sit around feeling sorry for myself and waiting to be inspired, I will probably be there a long time doing nothing. I need to make myself do something, even if it is just throwaway stuff. There is a lot of inertia to overcome, but eventually I get moving. And things get better and I feel creativity returning.

    The most recent session of this (working on it now), I attacked the problem on my computer rather than by forcing myself to shoot more. I enjoy doing weird, abstract composites. So, I made myself sit down with my Lightroom catalog and do some. I would scroll through and pick out something that looks interesting as a base image and throw it into Photoshop. Then I would scroll some more until I find another image that I feel might combine in an interesting way with the other one. I take it into Photoshop and start working with them together.

    I might poke away at them a while and delete the result. Or it might lead to something that intrigues me. That may serve as a base to bring in other elements and textures to make it richer and more complex. This has moved quickly from something I made myself do to something I’m having fun with. Doing this energizes me and I find my new image shooting has picked up.

    The second mental kickstarter I use is to take a trip. A change of scenery works wonders to shake me out of lethargy. This strategy is usually effective, but more expensive. I don’t do it as often as I would like.

    Out the window - through a beer glass.©Ed Schlotzhauer

    Take pictures

    When I get trapped in one of these down cycles, I find the solution is to do something. Take pictures. Do something. Don’t worry about the results. Try something new. Tell yourself that you are experimenting, and the results are not expected to be great. Give yourself permission to work without pressure.

    The muse – however you visualize inspiration – seems to only be there when we are working.

    Excited

    Being an introvert, I’m not very demonstrative. Unless you know me well, it may not be apparent to you when I’m excited. But I know. When I’m caught up in a project or exploring new techniques or ideas, I’m excited. My mind is not just engaged, it is spinning, sparking, generating new ideas constantly. It is a great feeling, and it seems like I can’t do bad work while I’m riding this wave.

    But the issue is how to get back into this zone when we are parked on the bench, out of the game? I can’t give you a foolproof formula. Sorry

    What I can recommend is that action always seems to help. Force yourself to pick up your camera and go out and shoot something. Don’t worry that they are not going to be your best images. Just shoot. Throw them away if necessary. But get moving in the right direction.

    I talked about how creating composites is helping get me going. Taking a trip to a new location is usually effective. Other ideas are to study a new artist’s work (Rocky Nook has a lot of good books by artists), go to a good art museum, or visit some galleries. Even reading an inspiring book can help. Whatever works for you to stimulate your curiosity, spark ideas, motivate you to do something.

    When we are moving and working, fear and inhibitions fall away. We are no longer held back by uncertainty, and we aren’t focused on what we did in the past. We are moving forward doing exciting new work. Do your work to please your #1 audience – you.

    I’m trying to keep in mind the joy of just taking pictures. I hope you do, too.

    Get moving. Go shoot something. It doesn’t matter what it is or what pictures you get. Start something and ride the wave.

  • Risk

    Risk

    Risk is a part of anything we do. Especially if we are an artist. We constantly try new things that may not work. In creative work we often do not clearly know where we are going. That leads to a lot of failed experiments and dead ends. When we try and fail, is that bad? Is the risk worth it?

    Risk

    I suspect none of us like to think much about risk taking and failure. But we’re artists. We have to be big boys and girls. Art is risk. We will fail in many of the things we try. Is that a reason not to do it?

    Author Herman Melville once said, “It is better to fail in originality than to succeed in imitation.” I believe the greater risk in our artistic life is to fail to be creative.

    AI is constantly learning how to mimic all existing art. The only solution is to be different from what exists, including our own past work. Not different for the sake of being different, but fresh, new creativity.

    If we are repeating the same boring stuff that 99% of photographers do, what have we contributed to art or to ourselves? Chasing likes on social media is normalizing. That is, it brings us down to the average level of everyone else.

    Theodore Roosevelt said: “It is hard to fail, but it is worse never to have tried to succeed. In this life we get nothing save by effort.” If we are an artist, the risk is to not give it our full effort and not become what we can be. To let what is within us die because of fear of failure. That seems too great a fate to risk.

    This is where Paradox's come from©Ed Schlotzhauer

    Attitude

    Our attitude about failure will have a lot to do with our results. A reality for many of us is that, if we are not failing, we are not stretching ourselves and developing new skills or vision. As creatives we cannot play it safe. We must be risk takers.

    I love a quote from a blog by Benjamin Hardy. He was talking about Molly Bloom who said “The moment you realize you can try and fail — and that everything will be okay — then you are free to create.“

    This is a liberating event in our creative journey. Failure isn’t final. It is not even necessarily bad. Failure leads to growth. When you fail, no one comes and takes away your camera or your brushes. No one (who counts) even laughs at us. Realizing we can fail and go on with no consequences frees us to try without worrying much about failing.

    Sailboat, healed over in the wind.©Ed Schlotzhauer

    Learn by doing

    We don’t upgrade our skills and exercise our creativity just by thinking about it. We must take action. There is no way to decide if the result is good until we see the result. But just taking random action will usually lead to random, unwanted results. We need a way to follow a path that will take us to desired results.

    You are probably familiar with the “do it, try it, fix it” loop. It goes by different names, but the concept is the same. This is an excellent process for improving things.

    The basic idea is you try something new. Then you evaluate the results, Was it a success or an improvement? Decide what, if anything, you want to keep of this experiment to incorporate into your tool set. Then, based on the evaluation, plan what to try next. That becomes the basis of the next experiment. It is important to realize this is a cycle, meaning it continually loops and repeats. It is a proven process of directed experiments leading to growth.

    Evaluate

    At the evaluation stage many experiments will be tossed out. They did not take us in the direction we want to go. It was a failure, but that does not mean we failed. We just tried something that we decided didn’t work for us.

    This is part of a process. It is a deliberate plan to systematically push the limits. To do that, we will try a lot of things that don’t work out satisfactorily. The failures are expected, planned even. Not something to be ashamed of. We should be happy to know we tried. Now we are free to do another experiment in a different direction.

    Please understand that a consequence of this is that we must be prepared to deliberately reject much of our work. We must have a standard to evaluate against that allows us to separate acceptable from unacceptable. Don’t be afraid to call some of our effort unacceptable. And do not be discouraged.

    It is kind of like the story of Edison inventing the light bulb. He found 10,000 things that didn’t work. They weren’t failures, they were insights.

    Abstract, Charles de Gaulle Airport, Paris©Ed Schlotzhauer

    Freedom

    Freedom is at the core of the process. We are not just trying random things and mostly being disappointed with the results and insecure with our creativity. Instead, we are following a deliberate process of improving our self and our art. Knowing we can try anything with no fear of failure is extremely liberating. It is part of the self-confidence we must have as artists.

    It is easy to get discouraged and think of our self as the failure. We have probably all felt like a fraud who has no right considering themself an artist. Remind yourself that we have to change and grow creatively, and to do that requires a lot of risk taking and failed experiments. Following a process like outlined above makes it a methodical plan. It helps us keep in mind that the failure is not a personal failing but a necessary and expected outcome of the growth process. It can be exciting. We can risk more when the fails are not catastrophic.

    A mindful view of fall colors near me©Ed Schlotzhauer

    No fault

    There is a tendency in our culture to want things to be “no fault”. It seems shameful and damaging to our fragile self-esteem to be at fault for something. So, we have no fault insurance, no fault divorces, etc. It is a reluctance to take blame for something that didn’t work.

    I’m suggesting that when we take risk with our art, and the result is a failure, we are responsible for the failure. It is our art. We made the creative decisions that led to the outcome we didn’t like, or we were not skilled enough in our craft to pull it off. No one else did it. Accept that as a growth opportunity.

    I made the point that our artistic failure is not a personal failure. I strongly believe that is true. An artistic failure does not have blame or shame. We had an idea to do something creative. We took a risk. It didn’t work out the way we anticipated. That is OK. A failed experiment does not make us a failed artist or a bad person. The benefit is that it informs our future efforts. It creates a steppingstone forward. It is a healthy risk.

    If you always succeed, you’re not trying hard enough.

    Woody Allen

  • Post Exploration

    Post Exploration

    We focus a lot on the process of taking pictures. And rightly. But the world of post processing is another rich opportunity for “making” images.

    Taking pictures

    When we think about photography, we think about taking pictures. After all, that is what photography is, isn’t it? That is where we capture the data that becomes the final image. For many, the thinking stops there. Click – picture.

    Maybe crop it a little or remove a distraction. Perhaps work on the overall color. But the picture is the picture. No reason to make many changes.

    Many people, especially some “serious” photographers, feel that the image should be made whole and complete in the camera. Anything other than simple edits that make no substantive changes to the original image is suspect or forbidden. That is their opinion, and they are welcome to it, so long as they do not try to bind it on me.

    Imagined unexplored land©Ed Schlotzhauer

    Post processing

    But for other photographers, the world of post processing is much larger than that. Yes, there is cropping and distraction removal and some color tweaks, but those are just the basic first steps.

    I will go out on a limb and say that post processing is as large and important a skill as is capturing images. The world of digital imaging has thrown us into a situation where what happens after the shutter press can be as important as what happens leading up to it. And our tools have become far more powerful, enabling “darkroom” processing far beyond what any film shooter ever dreamed of. It would be foolish not to take advantage of it.

    I assume you shoot RAW images. There are times to shoot jpg, but those are rare in my world of fine art photography. But RAW images require extensive editing. They look bland right out of the camera, since they did not go through heavy-handed jpg processing that is trying to make a best guess of what we wanted.

    Just enhancing

    After that initial round of basic edits, we get more serious for the images we pull out to work up. Now we probably do some initial sharpening. Then set overall contrast, black & white points, maybe some clarity to punch it up some more.

    At this point the image is starting to take shape. Now I may spend a lot of time working on tonal gradations. Working on the details of lighting and separating element so they can be seen more clearly. Then there is working on global saturation and luminance and maybe even hue of individual colors.

    We may decide to add a vignette to help focus attention on the subject. Perhaps we will use color grading or profiles to change the overall “look” of the image. Maybe so far as going to black & white.

    There are so many more. This is just the tip of the iceberg. We can easily spend hours on one image doing these and many more. I have watched hundreds of hours of tutorial videos describing techniques for doing these things. Really getting in depth on Lightroom Classic or, especially, Photoshop is a project requiring years. And they are moving targets.

    But at this point, we have a nicely corrected image – that is still basically the original photograph. It may be exactly the scene as we remember it, or it may have a color wash, or even be in black & white, but it is the same photograph.

    Again, this is where another large group of photographers stop.

    A fanciful composited image with interesting processing. Good luck guessing what the original image is.©Ed Schlotzhauer

    Permission to play

    And that’s where I stop with most of my images. But there are other doors to open that can lead to new destinations.

    Here is a statement of belief for me: pixels are raw material. They are just pieces of data saved on your computer. They do not “mean” anything except for the meaning we ascribe to them when we view them all together as an image. This is my belief. but since it is not based on laws or regulations or fundamentals of nature, it is just my belief. Feel free to disagree and act accordingly.

    But since this is my belief, I am free to do anything I want with my data. There is nothing like PETA for protecting against the abuse of pixels.

    I give myself unlimited permission to play with my data. And I do, to degrees. The problem is that it is hard to break away from old habits and beliefs. Too often, I am trapped by my limited thinking. I see an image. I don’t always see what those pixels could become. That, more than camera resolution or tools or computer power, limits what I make.

    Permission to play does not mean I will always take advantage of my freedom. I am self-limited. My actions don’t always follow my beliefs. But I’m trying to break my mental barriers.

    Impressionistic photography©Ed Schlotzhauer

    Making new images

    I love compositing, combining 2 or more images to make something new. It is a joy when I can take 2 dissimilar images and make something different from either. Sometimes I put together 3,4, 10 images. The resulting image may only have bits and pieces of each source file. Did you know that a TIFF file has a maximum size of 4G Bytes? After that you must bump up to the PSB format. Quite a few of my experimental images do that.

    And I love taking an image and processing it with different textures or digital effects to create a very different look. So much so that sometimes when I am out shooting, I mainly shoot textures. I have a good library of them.

    And have you played with some of the interesting Photoshop filters that are built in? Quite a variety of tools for blur, rendering, warp, landscape mixer, distort, stylize, etc. I can experiment for hours in Photoshop trying new combinations of things.

    Some actually create results I like. But you never know until you try.

    Heavily processed image, not reality©Ed Schlotzhauer

    The digital world

    My point is that our “photo opportunities” do not stop when we press the shutter. Capturing a good image is very important. But there are endless possibilities for improving it or totally changing it in post processing. Sometimes we see opportunities for doing more than just making an image look better. Post processing is another creative outlet.

    Digital images are much more malleable than film. Pixels are just data. Data can be processed. There is a world of opportunity in the post processing, if we can break out of our limited view of what can and should be done to our pixels. I call it post exploration.

    If you are a fine art photographer, the ethical choice is to do your best, most creative work. Not to protect pixels.

  • That Didn’t Work

    That Didn’t Work

    You had an idea. You tried for it, but the result must be considered a failure. If that didn’t work, what do you do? Does that mean you are a bad artist?

    An idea

    You get an idea of something you want to try. Call it an inspiration if you will. More likely it is an extension of what you have done before, maybe applied to a new subject or situation.

    As an artist, most of our work begins with an idea. As a photographer, we than follow up the idea with trying to realize it as an image. Maybe several, working different positions, lenses, shutter speeds, etc. to try to optimize the resultant image.

    If you are very experienced with your craft, you might be able to visualize fairly accurately what the result will be. But no matter how experienced you are, you will get surprises. Surprises can be fun and a great creativity boost.

    Antique diesel locomotive©Ed Schlotzhauer

    Fail

    But whether you blast away 100 frames or selectively shoot 1 frame of a scene, you will sometimes look at the result and say it was a fail. How we react to such a failure is very important. Your reaction could ultimately determine the level of success you have later.

    I’m using the idea of failing, but what does that mean? The definition will be different for each of us, but in general, I hope we can agree that it means the result does not meet our expectation. It does not necessarily mean the image is terrible or unusable, or even bad, but what we planned or pre-visualized did not happen.

    At the risk of sounding like a cliché, this is a learning opportunity.Intentionally imperfect. A blurred effect capturing the motion of the scene.©Ed Schlotzhauer

    Permission to fail

    Failure seems like a terrible fault to some of us. I am one of those in many things, but not in my photography. For my art, I have given myself not only permission to “fail”, but the expectation that I will and should. I have embraced failure as a healthy part of growing as an artist.

    This was a big step for me. I discovered that the fact of failure was not the main problem. The larger problem was fear of failure.

    How much are we held back in our art by fear of failure? Do we fear being humiliated? Or that people will dismiss us as an untalented lightweight? Do we believe we are somehow bad when a shot does not meet our expectation?

    Here’s the reality: few people care about what we do. They are not sitting around thinking about us and they take little or no notice of our work. If they’re not fixated on it, why should we be?

    We are our main audience. Our work succeeds or fails based on our own perception. All that matters is whether we get to a result we are happy with. Failures along the way should not matter.

    Risk

    Author Herman Melville once said, “It is better to fail in originality than to succeed in imitation.” I believe the greater risk in our artistic life is to fail to be creative.

    AI is constantly learning how to mimic all existing art. The only solution is to be different from what exists.

    If we are repeating the same boring stuff that 99% of photographers do, what have we contributed to art or to ourselves? Chasing likes on social media is normalizing. That is, it brings us down to the average level of everyone else.

    Theodore Roosevelt said: “It is hard to fail, but it is worse never to have tried to succeed. In this life we get nothing save by effort.” If we are an artist, the risk is to not give it our full effort and not become what we can be. To let what is within us die because of fear of failure. That seems too great a fate to risk.

    Tripod leg on edge or rushing river©Ed Schlotzhauer

    Learn, modify, try again

    The sports legend Michael Jordan said “I’ve missed more than 9,000 shots in my career. I’ve lost almost 300 games. 26 times I’ve been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.“

    Unlike Michael Jordan, we don’t have millions of fans watching live as we fail. We can curate our work and select what gets presented to people to see. You won’t see my failures, unless I am trying to make a point.

    Given that, why should we consider failure a problem? A failure is an experiment. We try something, we see the result, and we like it, or we don’t. Either way we can learn something new and try again. But the reality is, we learn more from failing than from success. But only if we make the effort to figure out the cause.

    So, when we’re shooting, we have an idea or a vision of what we want to achieve. We make the image. Later, we examine it closely on our computer. Sometimes the result is far from what we envisioned. That is a time to introspect. To determine what we did or didn’t do that made the result different from what we wanted. Maybe to ask if the result is better or worse than what we visualized.

    These days, I find that less of my fails are because of exposure or composition problems. Most are concept-level issues. Ansel Adams said “There is nothing worse than a sharp image of a fuzzy concept.” Concept failures are harder to diagnose and correct, but they certainly keep me thinking more.

    But whatever the cause of our failure, our goal should be to learn, modify, and try again.

    Success is not final; failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.

    Winston Churchill

    Sketches

    I consider most of my images to be sketches. Things that are helping me work toward an idea I haven’t fully envisioned. When I shot film, these experiments were expensive, and I tried to minimize the loss. Digital frames seem almost free. No problem to take several experimental tries.

    So now we should be free to work a scene as much as seems valuable. But I seldom do it that way. My sketches are more tests to see if what I saw can become a good image. Perhaps it is a fault of mine, but I spend little effort making many slight variations of a scene.

    I don’t like doing comparison tests of 12 different views of a scene to try to figure out which is best. If I come up with 4 that are equally good, how do I decide a “best”? When I find myself in this situation, I often conclude I am not really applying much creativity to the image. I seem to be optimizing for technical concerns.

    A possible exception is shooting intentional camera motion (ICM) images. Each frame could be considered a failure from a purist technical perspective – blurry, motion, no sharp subject. These are fun because it is an abstraction technique, and each frame is unique. For these, I may do a few variations on a scene, trying different motion techniques. You never know exactly what the outcome will be. There are occasional happy surprises.

    Intentional Camera Movement©Ed Schlotzhauer

    Discoveries

    When we allow ourselves permission to fail, we sometimes discover that we have stumbled onto something entirely new. We see a glimpse of a new creative statement starting to form.

    This is a different form of courage in the face of failure. The recognition that yes, we failed in what we tried, but it opened a new insight on our world. The first emergence of this new idea is probably crude. It seems like a failure. But as we reflect on why we are drawn to it, why we do not immediately delete it, it may give new insight to change our viewpoint and try to perfect it.

    This is one of those rare and exciting moments when we get a tingling in our spine and we perk up and wonder what just happened here? That is a cue that we are about to step outside our comfort zone. It is dangerous for an artist to be too comfortable for too long.

    That is creativity. Sometimes creativity is based on recognizing that what I did didn’t work, but I now see a glimpse of something better. Being an artist is a process, not a destination. Failure can be an opportunity to advance ourselves to a better state. Analyze it, experiment, modify, try again to see if you are going in a good direction.

    Sometimes, finding “that didn’t work” could mean we are on the brink of an exciting new step in our art.