Ed Schlotzhauer

An artists journey

Category: Mindfulness

Too Many Photographs?
Do you shoot too many photographs? Can we shoot too many? I think this is a question we can only answer individually. A lot of it depends on why we are shooting.
Easy to do
We are blessed with amazing digital technology that allows us to frame and compose and take photos rapidly. And some of our cameras can vacuum up 20 or more images a second if we want to. Memory cards are so large now that we can keep stuffing images into them for days and days.
This is one of the things I love about photography compared to other arts. The way I shoot is usually spontaneous. See it – take it. Maybe think about it some and try some alternate compositions. Maybe.
Working like this fits my personality. I have shot for so many years that much of the thought process of composition, exposure, etc. is subconscious.
But a downside of this is that it is easy to shoot a lot of frames. Sometimes more than I ever intended.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Travel
One of those times when we take many more images than usual is when we travel. Everything seems new and different and special. We are compelled to shoot. And we do.
On a recent 3 week trip to France I shot over 4000 images. And I think I am rather disciplined. I know people who take many thousands more images than me on a trip.
This is not a problem, unless it becomes one for us. It is fun and exciting. A benefit of traveling as a photographer is to take new and interesting images. We reward ourselves by putting our self in a “target rich” environment with our photography equipment.
We seem to give ourselves permission to take more pictures when traveling. I don’t know why. We should feel total permission all the time.
Projects
Another thing that seems to generate a lot of images is a project. Assigning our self a theme or topic to focus on for a time can be energizing. Directing our attention can stimulate new energy and creativity.
But it takes a lot of great candidate images to put together a story line and a few excellent selects for the final portfolio. When we focus on a project we suddenly see opportunities in places we never dreamed. That can lead to a lot of shots.
There aren’t any metrics that matter for something like this. But for something to discuss, I figure that to get to a final set of 20 images for a project I need maybe 100-200 strong images that do a great job of representing the theme. To get to those strong selects may require hundreds of attempts. And this is for 1 short term project.
I have some long term projects that I have accumulated a thousand or more candidate images for. And counting.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Arguments against
It seems to me that the arguments against shooting a lot of images come down to 2 things: cost and time.
It is said that shooting digital images is free. This is not true. If you care about treating your images as an important asset, they have to be managed and curated. This is an overhead expense we have to consider.
Cost
Disk space is getting pretty cheap, but that is offset by the quantity we require. I have an obscene amount of disk space. My main image storage is a 20TByte RAID disk. It is roughly half full. In addition, I am a fanatic about backup. A Time Machine backup runs every hour incrementally backing up to an external hard disk. In addition, I have another large network RAID disk for backup plus yet another external drive. These get complete backups of my images and Lightroom catalog every night.
And once a week I run a backup that I keep offsite for more safety.
Rotating magnetic drives wear out and have to be replaced. I have a stack of bad ones waiting for me to get into a mood to smash with a sledge hammer. I almost got there this week.
This setup is definitely not cheap and has to be managed.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Time
But that is “just” money. There is another hidden cost that sneaks up on us.
It takes a tremendous amount of time to load, examine, cull, sort, tag, and file all these images. And then the promising ones require a lot of editing. This can add up to a major time investment.
Without a disciplined approach to managing our images, we basically end up with a “shoe box” full of pictures. A very large shoe box where is is almost impossible to locate an image we have in mind. How do we search for candidates for a project if we have 10’s of thousands of random files on the computer but no organization system?
I spend more time selecting and filing and editing than I do shooting. And I shoot almost every day.
I consider this a major unaccounted cost of shooting. The cost is in time. Time that we cannot apply to more creative parts of our art.
Learning/growing
Have I convinced you to shoot less? I hope not. That is not my goal.
I believe the benefits of shooting a lot outweigh the costs. I just believe in being upfront about the costs so we can make an informed decision.
For one thing, improving requires a lot of practice to hone and refine our skills. Our vision will only develop over time as we come to understand what we like and are drawn to.
Cartier-Bresson said your first 10,000 photos are the worst. I think that is true, but it does not mean your next 10,000 photos will be great. Just better. It takes a lot of practice.
Photography is a combination of art and craft. Both of those improve with practice. but only if we are honestly evaluating our work. Be your own worst critic.
Linus Pauling said “The best way to have a good idea is to have a lot of ideas and throw away the bad ones.” I think this applies to photography as well. Are all of your shots keepers? I hope not. If they are, you are not out on the edge pushing yourself to try new things.
Shoot a lot, experiment, do foolish things that probably will not work. Who knows? That is one way discoveries are made. And it can be a lot of fun.
Why
But most fundamentally, why are you shooting? Is it to make money? Is it to get likes on social media?
Know what your goals are. I cannot criticize your goals. That is your personal choice.
I can say I have come to understand that in my life, my goal in making pictures is the joy of creating something that gives me pleasure. The satisfaction of being creative and creating something I consider beautiful or interesting. Selling prints is welcome and a pleasant validation, but not my driving motivation.
I am my main audience. If other people like my work, that is nice and it makes me feel good. But if they hate it, I will still create for myself. If I like my images, I am still being successful, even if everybody else dislikes them.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
No
So no, I’m not shooting too many photographs. They are for me. You will see few of them, so you do not care how many I shoot.
I shoot when I travel. I shoot for projects. Just walking around my hometown gives me all the reason I need to shoot something interesting. Something that no one else was likely to see in the same way.
My art is an important creative outlet in my life. It keeps me young (relatively). Art makes me think and keep a mindful attitude in the world around me. It feeds my curiosity.
This is worth it to me despite the cost and time involved in keeping up with it. Whether I shoot many or few images does not matter. What matters to me is the art I am able to create and the satisfaction I get from it.
I sincerely hope you are able to get as much joy from your work.
April 2, 2025
What You See Is What You Get
This is a well worn cliché with many meanings. I would like to attach a new one to it. What you see is what you get is also a description of our photography process.
History
You can predict that I like to get into the background of things. The phrase seems to have originated in the mid 20th century. It was popularized by Flip Wilson in the 1960’s show “Rowan and Martin’s Laugh In”. Anyone remember that? I have to confess that I do.
I will talk about meanings of the phrase, but one historical meaning was also special to me. “What you see is what you get” (abbreviated WYSIWYG) became a theme for personal computers back in the 1980’s. Before that, computers were terrible at dealing with fonts and layouts. Along came the Apple Macintosh and things changed radically. Thank you Steve jobs! But that is a topic for another time.
Conventional meanings
The normal usage of the phrase implies things are exactly as they appear, simple, no hidden meaning or content, clear.
For example:
“On a side note, with Jake, what you see is what you get; he’s always upfront.”
“In this political climate, it’s refreshing to see a candidate for whom what you see is what you get.”
“The website builder offers a what you see is what you get editor, making it easier for non-technical users to create professional-looking sites.”
We all know what we mean when we say the phrase, at least if you speak colloquial English.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
In our photography
I am proposing a new facet for this old phrase. As photographers, we have to see something to photograph it. So, what we see, is what we get.
That sounds blindingly obvious, but think about it a moment. In today’s world, the ability to notice things is getting to be a rare and precious talent. We live in culture of distraction. Every tech device in our lives is fighting for our attention.
But you are a photographer. I assume it is different for you. You have developed the skill of noticing things. To do that, you have to look and be aware. In order to even do that, you have to have the discipline to disconnect from most of the distraction that is keeping other people in addiction.
It seems like it is the goal of people today to have the least contact with the outside world they can. Almost like they want to live in a Matrix-like simulation.
Distraction
Next time you walk around in your city pay attention to what the people around you are doing. How many are looking around, seeming to take in what they are seeing? Compared to how many are glued to their phones or isolated with headphones. If they are looking around, is it with their phone camera in front of them to record everything they see so they can post it on social media? Do they have to get a selfie in front of that pretty sight, rather than actually looking at it?
The goal of most people seems to be to isolate themselves from the world around them. A 24/7 always on stream of TikTok, YouTube, Facebook, music, or movies provides an exciting alternative to the seemingly boring, mundane life and surroundings people have in their daily lives.
If people are on mass transit, they are plugged in and doing their best to block out the world around them. If they have to walk a few feet from their car, they are already checking email or Facebook. My state even felt the need to make it illegal to as much as pick up a cell phone when we are driving. It was that big of a problem.
And then there is the self imposed distraction of always being in a hurry. We rush and try to multi-task. Many people now do not even take all of their vacation, because we are too busy and afraid of falling behind. But that puts blinders on us. In our frantic hurry, we do not see much of what is around us.
I am in no place to give any kind of judgment about people’s desire to block out or deal with the world. Everyone gets to choose their path. That doesn’t make all choices equally beneficial. If we are artists, that puts us in a different context.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Mindfulness
A theme I can’t help coming back to frequently is mindfulness. Not in any kind of Zen practice, with painful poses and mantra chants. I don’t bend that way anymore.
Like most great ideas, mindfulness is very simple and extremely complicated.
From the viewpoint of photography, It is simple, because at its core , it is just about being aware of where you are, what is around you, possibilities of interesting colors and patterns and compositions and movement and subjects.
Just being aware. Training yourself to be in the habit of looking. Turning down the volume of distractions and looking around with an open mind. Being willing to think about things around you. Being willing to slow down some.
It is complicated, because it is exactly the opposite of what most of the world is trying to get you to do. Instead of closing into your little cocoon you have to open up to experiencing outside stimulus. This means consciously fighting against distraction that are trying to capture you.
Crazies
I love a quote from Lee Ann White I found recently. “If you make photographs when no one else does, you get photographs no one else does.” Simple and obvious. I think it was part of what inspired me to describe this idea of what you see is what you get.
I’m not suggesting taking the idea of being where no one else is to extremes. My friend Dean is an example of doing that. He is full on crazy (IMHO). For example, he goes solo trekking in wilderness areas of the Colorado mountains for days at a time in the worst winter conditions. And seems to enjoy it. And gets unique shots to prove it. That’s extreme even by my standards.
As a matter of fact, I know a lot of fairly crazy photographers. But that is not a requirement for doing good work.
This mindfulness I am recommending does not require existential danger or major travel ventures. It just requires us to be aware. To look around and see more than most of the people around you are seeing.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Give it a try
Look at everything you see as a picture. What is the interest here? How would I frame and compose it? What should I do with the lighting? What depth of field should I use? Is there a better viewpoint?
We can be going through that thought process without even getting out our camera. I hope, though, that it compels you to make the picture. I want you to get so excited about what you are seeing that you have to give it a try.
Have you ever stopped on the way to work because something caught your eye in a new way? Even after driving the route every day for years, today you saw something different. I have.
Just 3 days ago I was driving my normal route that I have done for thousands of times and I had to pull off in a cemetery. In the many years I have been by it nearly every day I have stopped less than a dozen times to actually go in and see it. That day was one. It was a bitterly cold day with a beautiful layer of hoar frost covering the trees. It compelled me to turn in. I’m glad I did.
What you see is what you get
If we do not see it, we will not photograph it. If we are not mindful and paying attention we will not see it in the first place. Just making the effort to look is a necessary first step. Mindfulness is a habit, a thought process. It is something we can learn through practice.
Even then we will not get the picture unless we give ourselves permission to stop and take the picture. Without taking the action we will never have it or the joy of the memory. Be one of the few who is paying attention.
I’ll wave at you when I see you pulled off on the side of the road shooting pictures of something i can’t even see. Looking a little crazy. And happy.
See it. Do it.
You see what you think, you see what you feel, you are what you see.
If with a camera you can make others see it – that is photography.
Ernst Haas
The featured image
I thought it would be good to describe the image at the top of this article. It is exactly a “what you see is what you get” as I describe here. My wife and I were staying in a hotel downtown Denver for some reason. Probably a weekend away.
This was a scene looking right out our balcony. It is not composited or edited other than normal color and sharpness. The reflections were exactly this. I was fascinated and still do not understand how such diverse scenes could be captured on the windows. And I loved the distortions. I’ll take it. I’m glad I looked out and noticed it.
March 19, 2025
Acceptance
Some people are detailed planners for a shoot. Some go out with an attitude of acceptance, ready to work with what they find. Which is best?
Planning can achieve great results
Some people love planning and are good at it. I will totally admit that there are occasions where it is necessary and appropriate.
Chris Weston (sorry, this is a subscription site; I asked, but they could not provide a way for me to give you access to this lesson for free) tells of a time on assignment when he had a very special shot in mind. Lions hunting at night under the stars. By planning it out in detail, even sketching the final shot, he knew what lens to use, how many flashes to use and where, where to set up, and what direction to aim the camera to get the milky way positioned as he wanted. It worked and he got his desired shot. But even then it took 6 days. Not because it took many tries to get it, but because he had to wait for the new moon so the stars would be optimum.
It was a unique and interesting shot. I applaud his persistence and hard work. Yes, and even his planning. But it is not the way i work. I don’t do National Geographic or book assignments where a certain result is needed. I accept the scene I’m given and try to make it the best I can.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Not negative
Acceptance may be a negative word to some people. It could imply a type of fatalism. A form of low standards and values, where you are willing to settle for anything. Like, you are not worthy. Or you are not the kind of person who should expect to receive good things. Or maybe it’s not worth trying for something better. Poor me. Eeyore.
Don’t go there. I encourage you to take a different meaning. View acceptance as a kind of peace and contentment. In the context of photography, I mean it to be a mindful encounter with our subject or scene. One where we are willing and able to look at it honestly and evaluate it for what it is. Once you accept it, you can more fully see its story. You might discover something unexpected. And you are free to reinterpret it according to the story you want to tell with it. But it is important to get our biases out of the way first.
Seeing it for what it is releases us from assumptions and expectations that could hold us back. We see the flaws, but also the possibilities.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Acceptance gets more results
I hear people complaining about not getting the great shot they had planned because conditions were not what they anticipated and planned for. That is sad. I empathize with them, because it has happened to me.
I sometimes still go out with expectations in mind. That is a trap, but it is natural and I’m not immune. For example, it being winter here as I write this, I went out shooting today with images in mind of nice ice shapes along the river. Well, it snowed a couple of days ago and most of the ice is covered up. And it is warmer today and some of the ice has melted. Not what I had in mind.
Having a fixed expectation in mind is like a filter. Our mind obediently screens out everything else that is not what we are looking for. So we are disappointed because we did not see any good picture possibilities.
But there’s a different reaction we can take to a situation like this. We could say to our self “Bummer, the conditions I wanted are not there. But let’s see what is there and what I can do with it.” I believe if we take a mindful attitude we can discover new points of view, even on an iconic scene.
Accept what you see and make your images to the highest level of quality you know how to do. Compose each frame as if it was the most important image you have ever shot. It might be.
And peace
A hidden benefit of having an accepting attitude is that it can bring us peace and joy. Rather than getting frustrated and walking away we can launch into a productive session exploring what we discover. We turn disappointment into joy and contentment. Most likely, we come away with unexpected images we like. Some may even make it into our portfolio.
Happiness springs from a clear-minded engagement with the present moment
Gary Buzzard
Changing our attitude and turning a disappointment into a joy is a good thing. Even if the pictures aren’t great, isn’t the good feeling worth it?
This is a benefit I don’t hear talked about for mindfulness. When we are mindful, we are looking for the opportunity, the good, the fresh. That is beneficial to our life and attitude.
And we can get some interesting pictures.
So is detailed planning or spontaneity best? That’s up to you. It depends on your personality and your needs. But whichever you choose, I recommend keeping a mindful attitude of acceptance. You will enjoy yourself more and discover some new images you did not have in mind.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Today’s image
This is an example of lemons to lemonade. We were on top of Mount Washington. I guess it was fairly typical weather for there. Completely socked in by clouds. So windy we could barely stand up. Not good photography weather.
We were going to walk the last few feet up to the top, but conditions were so bad that I decided to not even to take my camera. Then I saw this, ran back to the car – still close luckily – got my camera and was only able to get this one shot.
I don’t know the story. I don’t understand why it is happening. And still, years later, I wonder about it. If you know of a reason to have the dog hung on his back, please let me know. But it is one of those images i remember.
Side note: after that, I took the camera to the top. The clouds broke for moments and I got some shots I liked. Don’t ever leave your camera behind.
February 26, 2025
If You Were There
One “rule” I hear about expressiveness is “is this creative, or is it the same picture anyone would take if they were there?” I struggle with this. Should I care what picture you would take if you were there?
Obvious
I think I understand the intent of this phrase. Most pictures are fairly obvious. At least, to the photographer.
You come out at tunnel view in Yosemite, stop, and shoot the scene you see. You are doing the same thing and getting basically the same picture thousands of other people do every day.
Obvious and uncreative. Yes, that is judgmental, but it is very difficult to get creative with such an iconic scene.
As we grow in our artistic journey, we should try to avoid doing the simple and obvious thing. We should find something fresh and creative to add to the image. But at a famous icon location, good luck. It has been shot in every light and every weather.
You might catch an eagle flying by in the foreground carrying a large fish, just as a storm breaks allowing a majestic sunbeam to light up the scene. That would stand out. Some. But wouldn’t anyone else there shoot it, too?
I don’t see you
But here’s one of the things: I didn’t see you there when I was shooting most of the images I like best. Maybe you chose not to be out in the sub-zero cold, or not in a remote location where few people go. I didn’t see you embarrassing yourself too, shooting photos out the window of any of my recent flights. You weren’t around when I was in the junkyard looking for interesting rusty old trucks.
How broadly do I interpret the “if you were there” question? Do I question what a dozen other photographers would have done if they were magically transported to where I am now? I think that the fact that they are not here is significant.
Perhaps it means that what I choose to see and give significance is part of my unique style. What I am drawn to by my own particular mindfulness.
A fact is that there are seldom any other photographers around me when I am shooting. I guess few people care about the things that call to me.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
On a recent trip to France we did some short tour groups part of the time. Sure, I would look at what the guide is talking about, maybe even shoot a couple of pictures to remember it. But I found myself wandering off on side trips. The light is great over here. Look at the scene down this side street. That window is interesting. Look at this ancient stone work. Occasionally I would lose the group completely and have to go try to find them. Luckily for me my wife would sometimes come looking for me. I would hate to be a guide with me in the group.
My point is, no one else was tagging along on these side trips. It was just places and things I was being drawn to. No one else. If people had followed me, they likely would have shot some of the same things I did. But they didn’t seem to be called to do that.
I don’t know what you would do
Another, even bigger factor, is that I cannot predict what you would shoot, even if you were there. It has become obvious to me that I am drawn to some things most other people would ignore. And vise versa.
If you were flipping through my portfolios you would likely be thinking to yourself “that’s weird; I wonder why he shot that”. Even if I was shooting at a location you were familiar with, you probably would say “I didn’t see that, or if I did, it did not register with me as being a picture.”
The point being that a significant part of our personal style is our vision – what we are drawn to. What we are mindful of. Some things seem to jump out to me. Other things jump out to you.
This is one of the reasons I don’t trust the test of “if you were there, would you shoot the same picture?” We have different interests and values. If you were standing right beside me, you may well chose to not shoot at all. Rather, you would probably get engaged by something off to the side that I ignored.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Expressiveness
We are told that we have to add our own expression, our own point of view and feelings to distinguish our images. While I believe this, I also don’t believe it is something to worry too much about.
If we are an artist, we have a burning need to express our view. Just do it.
Fall in love with every frame. You are taking the picture because you love it, right? If that is genuine, it will come through. Never try to fake it. You should not have to.
If you are an artist, you make images that express your feelings and beliefs, or at least, what interests you in a scene. If you are a businessperson, you take pictures that you calculate will make the most money. Some of us are a mix of both. Only you can set your own goals.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Do my own thing
So I plan to bumble along on my own path, not worrying about what other photographers may or may not do. One reason is that there seldom are any around. Another is that I believe I have a different viewpoint and value set than them.
I’ll be the guy you see stopped along the road shooting a picture of who knows what. I’ll be the geek shooting out the window of the airplane, even at night. You may drive by and see me wandering around out in a snowstorm.
Anything that interests me is fair game. It is the dead of winter as I write this. Today I shot up through patterns of snow on a grid what was part of a sign above a sidewalk. I shot ice patterns forming along a river. Some majestic old Cottonwood trees silhouetted against storm clouds drew me in. I did not see a single other photographer. Not even someone using a cell phone camera.
If you were walking with me, would you have seen these things? Even if you did, would they interest you enough to shoot them? In the cold?
Maybe. Maybe not. I’m not going to bother worrying about what interests you. I have trouble keeping up with what interests me.
I hope you do, too.
February 19, 2025
Sometimes You Can’t Describe It
I find that my most interesting work is difficult or impossible to explain. I can’t describe what it means to me, much less what it should mean to you.
Concrete
It seems like people often want a concrete description or explanation of our work. Being generous, I would say they are really seeking to understand and want to know what the artist was thinking and feeling. Being less generous, I might say they are being lazy. It is easier to be told the “answer” than to try to work out an explanation for themselves.
It might be a gallery director needing an Artist Statement for the piece. Or it might be as simple as a friend asking “what is it?” Either one can occasionally put us in a difficult position.
I know the gallery director needs the statement so they can talk to customers about the piece. That is right and good. I guess it is better for me to give them something rather than have them hallucinate a story. Although I would love to hear their thoughts. Artist statements tend to be a load of bovine excrement.
Even more challenging is the simple “what is it?” question. Of course, I could tell them exactly what it actually is. But I often feel that this takes a lot away from the experience. The picture may be saying a lot more than what it is literally “of”.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
I don’t know
But behind all this is the problem that I don’t actually know what it is. I do not have words to represent concretely what I think the image is showing. And even if I had a good enough grasp of vocabulary, my thoughts are fuzzy and confused. It’s hard to describe something when you don’t understand what you think about it.
A lot of instructors tell us that every image should be pre-visualized. That is, that we know why we are taking it and we anticipate exactly how it will come out. And that works for me for a lot of images. I nearly always know (almost) exactly how an image will look on screen on my computer. Except for those happy surprises, but that is another topic.
But to me, strictly pre-planning and pre-visualizing everything takes some of the joy and creativity out of it. It becomes more documentation rather than art. I honestly do not know why I take some pictures.
Instinct
A lot of the shots I end up liking best are purely instinctive. In normal shooting, I have all kinds of subroutines running in my head, analyzing composition and framing and exposure and focus and lighting and all the other considerations in making a decent picture. But when I am shooting instinctively, they are mostly subconscious. I am not spending much conscious thought on design and technique in the moment. Things just seem to take on a life of their own.
Sometimes this can happen in a flow state, which is a joy. But not necessarily. Sometimes it is like there is a light flashing, signaling from my subconscious. Telling me “hey dummy, look! There is a great shot there!”
When I am smart enough to pay attention to that signal, I don’t spend much time on analysis. I don’t stop and describe what it is and what I am feeling. Maybe I should. But I feel like I should just be scrambling to take advantage of the gift I have been given.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Can’t hurt to try
Some great photographers do try to document their thoughts when they shoot. They tend to keep notes and even analyze their feelings and thoughts at the moment. A great example is Tony Hewitt, an amazing photographer in Australia. He not only writes down his thoughts, he sometimes even writes poems expressing what he felt while shooting!
I don’t write poems and I very seldom can force myself to take the time to analyze my feelings. I would like to. I always carry a notebook. Usually all I note is where I am, if I am in an unfamiliar location. Later, examining the images on my computer, I have to try to reconstruct my feelings.
So I encourage you to do what I say, not what I do. Try to record some of your thoughts in the field, while it is fresh. It might help to understand them better.
Get used to disappointment
When someone asks the dreaded “what does it mean” question, what do we do? Maybe we bluff and make up some nonsense about representing the existential struggle between good and evil. Maybe we be brutally literal and say it is a picture of a weathered car door. I just liked the shapes.
I would like to say, like Wesley said to Inigo in their sword fight (Princess Bride) “Get used to disappointment.” I don’t know what it means, so how can I try to tell you? Do the work yourself. Come up with your own story. It is just a valid as mine.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Language doesn’t work
Each type of art media has they own unique strengths and weaknesses. You can’t always represent equivalent ideas with sculpture and painting.
Words and images are 2 different art forms. They cannot always say the equivalent things. I believe an image can tap into feelings, yearnings, deep beliefs, dreams, and memories that cannot adequately be written down in words. These things exist as things that pass through our minds as thoughts and feelings without being expressed in words.
Perhaps I am not doing my work justice by not spending the effort to try to unpack the “meaning” of my images. That would take a lot of time, and i know from experience that when I return to the description some time in the future, I would say no, I see something else now.
Our feelings when looking at art are based on our experience, knowledge, emotional state and perhaps health at the moment. These are moving targets.
So I do not consider it a fault when I cannot describe exactly what an image means. I could only tell you what it means to me, today. You should have the privilege of deciding for yourself what it means to you. If anything. Maybe nothing.
it could be that an image “means” nothing. It only has the value or meaning we ascribe to it personally. Too deep for now. That is a discussion for another day.
Meanwhile, let yourself be led to make images that are meaningful and significant to you. Even if you can’t describe what it precisely is you can take joy in what you feel looking at it. Not all of the world can be expressed in words.
February 5, 2025