Ed Schlotzhauer

An artists journey

Category: Photography

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
The Magic of Silhouettes
We’re all familiar with silhouettes. Do you ever think about why they are interesting? I believe there is a kind of magic of silhouettes.
What silhouettes are
“A silhouette is the image of a person, animal, object or scene represented as a solid shape of a single colour, usually black, with its edges matching the outline of the subject. The interior of a silhouette is featureless, and the silhouette is usually presented on a light background, usually white, or none at all.”
You are familiar with them. You see them often. A featureless black form in a picture. Have you ever thought how something that shows no detail can be interesting?
We know from experience that they happen when a foreground object has a bright light behind it. A simple explanation and they are easy to generate, but that by itself does not explain their impact.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Origin
I love history and finding out how things came to be. I assumed silhouettes have been an artistic technique for centuries. Not exactly. It mainly dates from the 18th century. Cutting portraits out of black paper became a popular and inexpensive art form. It was especially popular for miniatures, small images on lockets and things like that.
You can argue the technique was used by Greeks and others as far back as 7 to 8 centuries BC on some of their pottery. Perhaps it is possible to include some even older cave art. But as far as I could find, there was no name given to it back then and the technique seems to have fallen mostly out of practice until the 18th century.
Here is a piece of nerd interest that will be of absolutely no use to you, but is an intriguing part of our history. The word “silhouette” is not an artistic or technical term. In 1759 Étienne de Silhouette was the French Finance Minister during the Seven Years War. The country’s finances were hard pressed and he had to institute a lot of unpopular austerity measures. So much so that people began to use the term “silhouette” to refer to things done cheaply.
This was the same time period (18th century) when paper cutouts were becoming popular for portraits and the name transferred and stuck. Silhouettes were an inexpensive art form. It fascinates me that no one remembers Étienne de Silhouette, but we use his name all the time without realizing it.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Why are they interesting
But that still leave open the question of why they are interesting. Just being black does not make it interesting. Being featureless would seem to make them less interesting, not more. Why do they catch our interest?
They are somewhat different from what we normally see, but that should not in itself be enough to make them special. There are a lot of “gimmick” techniques that photographers and other artists use to try to catch our interest. Generally these fads do not have staying power and fade out as quickly as they appear.
I believe there is something fundamentally important and intriguing about silhouettes that catches our attention and has lasting power. There seems to be something about them that captures the essence of a subject.
Less is more
Less really is more sometimes. This is particularly true in photography, where our super megapixel sensors capture lots of information and detail. We can confuse our viewers with too much detail. I generally love lots of detail, but the subjective experience we want to present is more important than technical details.
A silhouette is an exercise in simplicity. We remove all information about a subject except its outer form. The way our marvelous brain works, this is usually sufficient for us to recognize the object.
But even though we recognize it, it is presented in a completely different form. With no interior detail we only have its outline. We are left to guess what is in the big, black, featureless area in the middle of it.
And we do. We fill in the blanks. Based on our experience, we “know” what is in that shape. But still, the mystery remains and we perceive it different. We see it in a new way.
It is an exercise in simplicity and minimalization. Absolutely nothing except the information about its shape.
Similar to black & white
In some respects silhouettes are related to black & white photographs. They often are presented in black & white. I believe there is a reason for this beyond just the big black area.
The beauty of black & white is that it removes all color from the image. Color is the most powerful visual sense. We tend to see it first. It can overpower everything else.
But when the color is removed, we more fully perceive the shapes and tonal relationships that are there. The image is transformed into a different art form, giving us an altered way to see it.
Silhouettes are like that, but with an emphasis on just the shape of the isolated black forms. The shapes become the subject of the image. There is generally no tonal range in the silhouetted object, just form.
So, although silhouettes are often made as black & white images, that is not required. It is often preferable to leave the color information in the rest of the image to emphasize the difference of the silhouetted objects and to draw more attention to them.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
The featured image
The image featured at the top of this article illustrates some of these points. This was taken in a field on a tiny, nameless back road in northeast Oklahoma. I doubt if I could find it again.
I chose to make both the foreground and mid ground black. Everything that is black is featureless black silhouettes. But there is no problem at all knowing what they are. Adding interior detail would not have improved the image. I could argue that it would have weakened it. It is the exterior shapes we see.
And this is a case where I felt that preserving the color of the background helps set the context and emphasize the shapes of the foreground. I believe the color adds to the mood.
March 5, 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
It’s Just a Camera
That piece of technology we use to make images, it’s just a camera. Not magic or sentient or automatic. It still needs someone to take the picture.
Brushes
I really like my camera. It is a good tool to use to make images I like. When I’m in the field, my camera is the vehicle for my creative expression.
Have you ever had someone look at one of your pictures and say “Wow, you must have a great camera”? Or see you taking pictures and say “You must be a professional, since you have a big camera.” I have. Many times. Now, I basically just smile and go on.
But if you see a painting hanging in a gallery, who looks for the artist and tells them “Man, those must be some great brushes you have.” Or, seeing a nice wood carving, tell the sculptor “you must have some really sharp chisels”.
The public has a tendency to attribute a good photograph to the camera more than to the photographer. Being a piece of technology, somehow there is the implication that the camera somehow made the picture.
As artists, we should not encourage this attitude.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
A box
At it’s most basic, a camera is a box that keeps out light. The name comes from “camera obscura”, which was a dark space, often a room, with a small opening to let in light. This caused an inverted and reversed image to be projected on the back wall. It is believed this technique has been used since 500 BC.
The first “modern” cameras were wooden boxes that had a lens on one end and a holder for coated glass plates on the other. This is how many great historical photographs were exposed.
They have certainly become much more sophisticated now, with auto focus, camera shake compensation, exposure measurement, ability to automatically set exposure parameters, etc. Too much to list. The user manual for my Nikon Z7 II is 823 pages. Astounding, but it still doesn’t take the pictures. At it’s most basic, it is still a closed box to keep light off the sensor until time to record the image.
I appreciate many of the features in modern cameras. They make my art easier and extend the range I can operate in. It is great to have our little “dark spaces” getting smaller all the time. Even to becoming little flat things we can put in our pocket (phone).
I fear there will come a point where we will face some major decisions.
It’s still a tool
Right now our cameras and phones have amazing capabilities. Some of them are just basic technological advances. Some are deemed “AI”. Many of the best features are appearing first in our phones.
The ability to “sweep” our phone across a scene and have it automatically stitch together a panorama is very useful. Face detection is common now and can be useful for some types of work. An interesting feature I have seen is where, when taking a group shot, some cameras actually take many images and pick out and merge together the “best” look for everyone. At least, ones when they are smiling and their eyes are open.
Features like these make shooting pictures less technical and less stressful. Anyone can get “professional” level results. That is probably a good thing. It is an aid.©Ed Schlotzhauer
A coming “revolution”
There are still some of us who want to make the artistic decisions ourselves. Even if it is difficult and requires lots of training. Even if we make mistakes and bad choices. Those don’t matter. It is our art, our decisions, our responsibility. The technology is likely to get a lot more intrusive.
Probably right now most major camera manufacturers and all phone makers have teams of smart people trying to go all in with AI. People who actually believe in it and confidently think AI actually is or will become intelligent. Some who actually think AI can do art.
I can imagine one of the user stories they are working from: “(Camera speaking) Attach the 24-70 lens. It is best for this shot. Move me 34.7 inches left and lower me 9.3 inches. I detect a glare. Attach the lens hood. Place the subject at the Rule of Thirds point I am illuminating in the viewfinder. I will shoot it now and remove the non-subject person traversing the frame. I am also correcting the 3° tilt to the right and the overall color. Done. “
To me, this is a dystopian scene. I do not want to relinquish my artistic vision to anything, especially a machine. I am very willing to use smart tools to assist my work. In-camera features like eye identification and focus tracking can be very handy. On the computer, making it easier to make selections or to remove distractions is useful. But I do not plan to give control over to the camera to make it’s own decisions
Plasticity.
In The Interior Landscape, Guy Tal states
For any medium to be useful to an artist, it must allow a generous degree of plasticity. It must lend itself readily to subjective expression of concepts and feelings originating in the artist’s mind and not just those inherent in or commonly associated with the subject.
Mr. Tal was not referring to AI here, but I believe it applies. An AI controlled camera could probably expose images that would be regarded by most consumers as pleasing. The pictures would be a faithful and well exposed depiction of the subject. Most users would be happy. Unfortunately, the AI could not know the subjective expressions that are in my mind. It cannot know my vision and intent.
Again in The Interior Landscape, Guy Tal states
There are well-established compositional templates knows to impress viewers, requiring only mechanical skills but no expressive intent. Art raises the bar. Art requires from the artist a degree of emotional investment and an elevated subjective experience, as well as the skill to express visual concepts beyond “here’s something pretty,” “look where I’ve been,” or”see how lucky I was”.
I resonate with this concept of plasticity. It gives structure to my desire to create images that are not simply representations of what is there. I want to use the camera and other parts of the technology of photography simply as tools to help me capture what I visualize and feel.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Make art
You might get the impression that I am not a fan of AI. Well, I definitely am not a true believer. It could be a useful tool for some things. One of the big problems is that most people do not understand its limitations, so they believe it is something it is not.
By it’s nature, AI cannot be creative. It is a compendium of what it has been trained on. The output of AI is a statistical prediction of a response given an input. So, at best, it is an average of what it has been given. It cannot think or feel or have inspiration.
I am a human. I do think, get depressed, find inspiration, feel love, and see things in my own quirky way. If those are faults compared to AI, then I readily admit to being deeply flawed. But from those flaws, and all the other strange bits of my makeup, I can create art. Because my art comes from my unique human understanding and viewpoint.
I like my camera. It is a great tool. I have actually read most of the user manual in order to know what features it has and to pick which I choose to use. The reality is that I probably only use, I would guess, less than 20% of its capabilities. That’s OK. It’s a tool, not the center of my attention.
I know that designs have gotten so good that camera manufacturers are up against boundaries of physics. It is easier to add value through new “intelligent” tricks than to expand resolution or dynamic range or reduce noise. AI is a hype magnet and a path of least resistance. I get it.
Who/What is in charge?
But if the next camera I select is bloated with AI features and the price is double because of that, I will pass. I can even envision them wanting me to pay a monthly subscription to use the features in my new camera. If these things happen, my next camera is likely to be an older, used camera with less features but better raw performance and easier manual operation. Yeah, I’m an old curmudgeon. I get to be. I’m the artist in charge.
The camera does not make images. The artist does. It will continue that way for me as long as I have something to say about it. And I do. 🙂
So modern cameras are wonderful tools. I would love to have a new one. But are you an artist or just someone who takes pictures? If you are an artist, do not forget that the camera is basically just a dark box that holds the lens and sensor in the right positions. It is an instrument allowing us to create art. The artistic intelligence is in you. Do not surrender your artistic vision to a machine.
Photography is based on technology more than most other arts. That does not mean the technology makes the art.
“The equipment of Alfred Stieglitz or Edward Weston represents less in cost and variety than many an amateur ‘can barely get along with.’ Their magnificent photographs were made with intelligence and sympathy – not with merely the machines.”
Ansel Adams
February 12, 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