Ed Schlotzhauer

An artists journey

Tag: creativity

  • The Subject Isn’t the Subject

    The Subject Isn’t the Subject

    Huh? Wrap your self around that for a minute. When we shoot images, we almost always have a distinct subject. What sense does it make to say the subject isn’t the subject?

    Inspired by a quote

    This article was inspired by an article by Ian Plant in Nature Photography Network, Feb 8, 2023. In part, he said:

    But the single most difficult, most counterintuitive aspect of photography, the one thing that most photographers have a tough time wrapping their heads around, is this: your subject is not your subject. Instead, your subject is just part of the overall visual design. The subject might arguably be the primary element of the design, perhaps the most important part, but it is only a part, nonetheless. To make truly exceptional photographs, you need to include more than just your subject; you also need to include other visual elements that work together with your subject, getting the viewer engaged with the story you are telling with your image.

    This requires some careful thought. Many of us tend to be fixated on finding the “right” subject and filling the frame with it. Ian is suggesting that is a limiting view.

    What else is there besides the subject?

    But if you have a good subject, and if you light it and have adequate depth of field, and you expose it right, doesn’t that make the picture? He says probably not, and I tend to agree with him.

    A successful picture is a complex balance of many, often competing, dimensions. Yes, a subject is usually important, but there is the overall visual design, the composition, the feeling, the processing, even the context.

    Presenting a badly designed image of a great subject usually doesn’t work well. Maybe in a photojournalism context, if the subject is truly unique it would be considered a strong image. But as a normal visual image, no.

    It’s that balance thing. All the parts have to be strong.

    It all works together

    A well composed image of nothing particular probably doesn’t work. Neither does a not well composed picture with a good subject. We’ve probably all experienced both.

    Another statement from Ian Plant in that article is:

    Once you learn to stop thinking of your subject as your subject, you instead start seeing your subject as an abstract compositional element, which is a necessary step for making compelling photos. You start to see your subject in terms of its shape, color, and luminosity value. Seeing shapes and learning how to arrange them effectively within the picture frame is of critical importance to successful composition.

    So the subject is part of what you build a compelling image around. Everything else you have learned about composition have to be thought through. You know, the considerations of framing and leading lines and balance and contrast and emphasis and patterns and … it goes on. You can find a million videos on the internet with someone ready to give you the secrets of composition.

    Viewer perception

    Why doesn’t an interesting subject carry a picture by itself? For you, it might. You were there. The image invokes memories of the experience, or the subject is important to you. Not so for the viewer.

    To the user, it is a picture. You have to give him a reason to keep looking at it. People are so inundated with imagery that they are going to move on in about 1/2 second unless you can grab them.

    So, let’s say there is a picture you like of a heron. It was your first trip to Sanibel Island in Florida and you shot lots of bird pictures. It is significant to you. But put yourself in the place of your viewer. They see lots of heron pictures. What does this one have to offer to make them pause on it?

    Is it a significant moment with the bird poised to catch a fish? Is the bird in an interesting pose? Does the lighting enhance the feeling? Have you brought something of the environment where the bird lives that is of interest? Does this tell an interesting story about the bird? A good image is more than just an interesting subject.

    Your mileage may vary

    Seems funny how most of my articles contain a disclaimer like “your mileage may vary”. Art is intensely subjective. There are no hard rules. There are only patterns that have been identified over time that seems to strongly influence people’s perceptions.

    Ian is describing landscape photography. “Rules” may well be different for portraiture or photojournalism or other things. The fine art I do is a lot like landscapes. Sometimes it is straight landscapes. So his thoughts struck me as significant. As always, you do your own art according to what makes sense for you. Never let any so called authority tell you you can’t.

    But listen to opinions of people who have a track record of doing good work. Don’t necessarily follow them, but listen, try it on, see if it fits before rejecting their advice.

    Today’s image

    This is a quick shot of a street scene in Paris. It is not a carefully planned set up shot. I was out for dinner with family when this grabbed me.

    Quick or not, it passed the test of “I’ll think of a reason later“. The more I worked with this the more it went up in my estimation.

    Why? It is a pretty standard tourist shot of Paris streets. Look at the things that help make it more. The curve of the street and sidewalk draws us into the scene, as does the diagonal line of light and color., as do the people walking into the scene on the right. The bicycles give movement and make it more alive. The light and color on the building draw us to the side of the street that has most of the interest. As you look along the lighted street, the people in the cafes each seem to have their own story and interest. They all seem to be enjoying the evening out and that is pleasant and inviting. The receding perspective of the buildings on the left also direct and guide us along the street and through the scene.

    Conclusion

    To me, there is a lot of interest to explore and reasons to keep moving around the image looking at things. A simple shot of a street at night blossomed into an interesting picture. It moved beyond a street scene and became a study of living in Paris.

    Most all of that was instinctual, not planned. A (metaphorical) bell went off alerting me there was something here. I got in position and framed the shot quickly. I really didn’t want to hold up my group, and I didn’t.

    It’s a fairly standard and common subject. Design improved it to something more special. Instinct helped me craft the interest. What do you think? Is it interesting? Am I kidding myself?

  • I’ll Think of a Reason Later

    I’ll Think of a Reason Later

    I get tired of hearing all the pronouncements from leading photographers about how all our shots should be carefully planned and pre-visualized. While this is good advice sometimes, it is not always true. At least, not for me. I have come to see some of my best work as happening when “I’ll think of a reason later”.

    Source

    I got the title from an old country & western song by Lee Ann Womack, lyrics by Tony Martin and Tim Nichols. Great lyrics, but the song has nothing to do with photography or any art. But when I heard the title, it seemed to perfectly fit what I often experience. So I decided to “repurpose” it.

    You know how you sometimes hear something that sparks other ideas or seems to crystalize some ill-formed thoughts that have been gnawing at you? This was that for me. I love the image it brings to my imagination.

    Planning

    It is part of the accepted religion of many photographers that you never shoot a picture without a well thought out plan. Even to a firm visualization of what the final product should be. Being a matter of faith, it is unquestioned and can’t be reasoned. But I will question it. There is an old quote that says “sacred cows make the best burgers”.

    Is there a time for careful planning? Yes. Of course. Otherwise the whole controversy would be foolish.

    When is planning important? First, on any commercial shoot, where a certain result must be obtained, on schedule and on budget. You will not work in the industry if you can’t deliver repeatable and acceptable results to your client. Sure, you must also have a recognized style to flavor your work, but that is secondary to the results the client wants.

    Second, if you are doing some type of conceptual photography, where you have to synthesize the result from materials you shoot specially for it. It all has to be coordinated so the right materials are available for constructing the final image. The parts must be consistent in lighting, focal length, position, color, etc. Most of all, they have to be complete. You don’t want to start bringing your product together and find that a key piece is missing. This process takes good planning and visualization.

    A third possible one is a once in a lifetime trip to an exotic location. It would be reasonable to scout the location, plan for lighting, weather conditions, etc. I say maybe, because I probably wouldn’t do it. I might want to have some idea of what to expect, but I would be more energized by abandoning preconceived notions and reacting to what I find.

    Spontaneity

    What’s missing in this very disciplined notion of planning? To me, it is spontaneity, happy accident, feelings, reactions. These are the things I thrive on. These things make my work more alive and vibrant.

    The things I find, unanticipated, can captivate me. When something excites me and energizes me, I find I am generally happier with the results. The engagement is memorable and meaningful. I am drawn to the subject or the scene. The feelings I have seem to come through in my images. Dare I say it, there is love there.

    Can a planned, rehearsed shot engage me? Yes, sometimes I like to really get deep into whatever I do. But that is accidental. Usually I find in those situations that my engagement has to be secondary to the planned event. For me, I don’t want it to be secondary.

    I enjoy the discipline of shooting for a project. But even when I have a certain theme in mind, I do not have a fixed plan for what I will shoot. I may hypothesize what some of the images in the project might look like, but that is only a guide to spark my imagination.

    I would much rather find joy in something no one else has noticed. Something that, at just that moment, is interesting, even exciting. Tomorrow it may look like junk, but right now it is something else. This is more interesting to me than getting yet another beautiful shot of an iconic scene.

    I’ll think of a reason later

    So, “I’ll think of a reason later” means to me that I will follow my instincts, my interest at the moment. Later, when I am working on the image on my computer, I will see if I can think of the reason it called to me. Usualy there are some good reasons.

    I will be lead by my heart. Planning can be useful, but I will not be a slave to it. I have no problem abandoning a plan to shoot something more interesting.I am a fine art photographer, not a commercial shooter. This means I will follow my instincts, shoot what I like and what I am drawn to at the moment.

    I will be the first to admit that this does not always lead to the best possible results. Sometimes I follow my instincts down a rat hole to a dead end. That’s OK. Better than OK. It is wonderful. It is better to me to try and fail and sometimes achieve something special than to rise to nothing more than mediocrity.

    So I am amazed sometimes working on these spontaneous images on my computer, to see things I was not conscious of at the time I shot it. I see shapes and forms, color harmony, framing, patterns, and lines that work to make an interesting image. These were mostly subconscious at the time I was shooting.

    I seem to be able to use all my years of training instinctively. Was I pre-visualizing my images? Probably, but it wasn’t conscious. I was not aware of it in the moment I was shooting. The measure for me is: was I excited at the time? This is I’ll Think of a Reason Later.

    What works for you

    I’m reacting here to intense evangelism I see from some so called authorities. The reality is, there is no “one way”. At best, they can tell you what works successfully for them. Sometimes they just want to evangelize you to their point of view.

    An artist’s working style and subject matter is intensely personal. What works for one will completely trip up and block another. Do what works for you without thinking you have to follow a plan some famous photographer told you.

    I don’t mean to ignore everybody. Listen, try their ideas out. Experiment. But ultimately reject what doesn’t work for you.

    Today’s image

    This image was taken going down the Seine River in Paris. I glanced up and instantly recognized a scene of interest to me and snapped it. It was not pre-visualized, and I was not consciously searching for a situation like this.

    Sometimes happy accidents happen. I plan on it. That is, I find if I am receptive and looking around with interest, they happen. Frequently.

  • Window or Mirror

    Window or Mirror

    It has been observed that photography can be either a window or mirror. The idea has some merit. But like most real world things, it depends.

    Szarkowski

    The idea originated with John Szarkowski, at the time the head of the Department of Photography at The Museum of Modern Art in New York City. It was expressed in an exhibit named “Mirrors and Windows, American Photography since 1960” at the Museum of Modern Art in 1978.

    Mr. Szarkowski was a huge influence on photography for many years. I don’t agree with many of his ideas, but I believe there is something to consider in the ideas behind this exhibit.

    The press release for the show states that “In metaphorical terms, the
    photograph is seen either as a mirror–a romantic expression of the photographer’s sensibility as it projects itself on the things and sights of this world; or as a window–through which the exterior world is explored in all its presence and reality.”

    Let’s try to unpack that.

    A window on the world

    At the beginning of photography, it was seen as a way to quickly capture real scenes. The “writing with light” aspect was a big thing. A landscape or a portrait could be captured much more quickly than by previous artistic media. What a breakthrough! To make a portrait in a few seconds instead of having to sit for days while a painter works! And it was “real”! Indisputable. Unaltered. Exactly what the person or place looked like.

    This notion that a photograph is true to reality carries on strongly today. I see photographers who refuse to alter anything in the frame for fear of being dishonest. And most viewers have a natural belief that what they see in a print is real. Unless an image obviously looks like a fantasy illustration, it must be fact.

    A great many photographers follow this tradition. I started there, too. The idea that an image represented exactly what was there at the time. No illusion or tricks or modification. Many great photographers like Ansel Adams and Gary Winogrand could be placed in this group.

    This could be described as the “window on the world” view. What I choose to frame in the image is bringing the viewer an exact representation of reality. It is an outward looking viewpoint. The photographer is silently in the background. It is not obvious what he was thinking or feeling. There is little clear message beyond “look at this”. And there is always the implication that you could go there and see the same scene.

    A mirror reflecting the artist

    Somewhere in the mid twentieth century (around 1960 according to Szarkowski), many photographer’s intent started to shift. This would describe some great artists like Paul Caponigro and Jerry Uelsmann. It was no longer sufficient to just bring reality. It was important to express my beliefs, to make a statement, to convey my feelings. And it was no longer important that the image depict the scene literally.

    Now the goal became to express the scene as I perceive it. That may require extreme processing or compositing or absolutely anything as long as my intent is brought through. The final image may bear little or no resemblance to the original. That is OK, though, because it is an expression, not a capture of reality.

    There was one idea in the exhibit notes that resonates strongly with me. The image that a scene projects on the artist who then internalizes it and interprets it to the viewer. This seems to me to capture a large range of what is done in art now.

    A natural evolution?

    I believe this movement from window to mirror was fairly natural and predictable. By the 1950’s or 1960’s people had become used to seeing images of the world. Major publications like Life and National Geographic flooded us with images of the world, both landscapes and people. Pictures were becoming commonplace.

    To take landscapes, for instance, there is only room for a limited number of shots of the major sights of the world. The market was saturated. So artists started to differentiate their work by allowing their own personality to show through. The notion of a personal style became important.

    The part of this that seems valid to me is that, while there are millions of photographers out there shooting everything imaginable, only I have my personal point of view and style. Therefore, my images are unique. Even if they are of the same scene many others shoot. That seems to me to be the only chance of artists to carve a niche in the crowded market.

    Both?

    Even Szarkowski was quick to point out that this was not intended to be a clear division of artists. It is an axis, with strong window view points on one end and strong mirror view points at the other. Most people will fall somewhere in between. And they may move back and forth on the axis with time. Although I think the movement is typically from window toward mirror. At least that was my path.

    But even with that said, I do jump around. It depends on the context and what I am feeling at the time. So, for instance, when I go to a new location that excites me, I may start out taking “window” shots. To capture the locale, the scenes I am loving. Many of these are consciously for my own memories.

    If I have the opportunity to spend time in the location, I move past the “window” shots and start feeling a personal view that begins to be expressed. This is now drifting toward the “mirror” end of the axis. But in the same day of shooting I will probably do both. In familiar territory where I spend a lot of time, there is a greater tendency to concentrate on mirror views, since the conventional views are well gone over.

    The metaphor is useful to help us reflect on how we are seeing subjects at any time.

    Neither?

    This idea of window vs. mirror views is just Szarkowski’s concept. That doesn’t make it right or some universal truth. I must admit, though, the model has merit. It is a valuable metaphor.

    Photography started out as a window on the world. Just the fascination of being to quickly capture as “real” scene in all it’s complexity was one of the things that propelled it into popularity. And I think many new photographers still start out intending to shoot realistic scenes of nature or architecture or people. It is a great way to hone our technique.

    And I believe that many who stay serious about the art move toward the mirror end of the axis. It is no longer enough to just present a scene and say “here is what it looked like”. We feel a need to express how we felt about it, or how we perceived it differently than other people.

  • Moving Past Perfection

    Moving Past Perfection

    Photography is a rather technical art form and most photographers get caught up in the gear and techniques. This can be appropriate for some work, but not always. I have stopped worrying about the last line/mm of resolution and absolutely perfect focusing and steadiness. It can be that imperfections can make some images better. I am moving past perfection as a goal.

    Perfection

    Sure, I love technical perfection. I think at some level most photographers do. It is a characteristic of what we can capture. We don’t want to just take a picture of a bird. We want to resolve every detail of every feather. The texture in an image should be so present that the viewer can easily imagine what it feels like. Every part of the subject must be in crisp focus and highly detailed.

    Technical perfection like this is a form of craftsmanship. It shows our viewer that we know how to use our tools and that we can check the craft boxes to prove our work is worthy.

    But this craftsmanship is a table stake, to use a business term. A table stake is the minimum viable offer that will be considered. For example, if you are buying a new car, you would not consider one that does not have a backup camera. It used to be a luxury but it has become an expected necessity. In the same way, digital photography has improved our product so much that there is little room for imperfection. Technical perfection, where is is required, is a necessity to be considered a salable print.

    Unless it is deliberate imperfection. More on that later.

    Don’t let it become the reason for the image

    An overused quote (at least, I seem to overuse it, because I believe it is very insightful) is Ansel Adam’s comment that “There’s nothing worse than a sharp image of a fuzzy concept.”

    I take that to mean that a good image will not be a great image solely because of its technical perfection. Instead, the technical details must serve the mood and intent of the image. Sometimes that means the technical details must be front and center, because they provide the framework that supports the resulting image. But in other cases they may actually subtract from the artist’s intent.

    I keep talking about sharpness, but the same applies to any other technical details. Composition does not make an image. There has to be more there. The absolute peak time and weather conditions at a certain location may help you make a very good image, but by themselves will not guarantee it.

    Who defines perfection?

    But what is “perfection”? That is very difficult. Must every image be 50MPixels or more at 3000 line pairs/mm resolution? Does every picture have to be perfectly aligned with “rule of thirds” lines and points? Does the color balance of the print have to exactly replicate the color of the original scene? How about images that do not have a definite foreground/middle ground/background? And how about the ones where the histogram is just wrong, say pushed too far to the left or right?

    Do these things define perfection? Can we make a great image that violates some or all of these “rules”? If you are thinking about some other articles I have written, you will know that the answer, for me, is there are no rules. There is no authority with the right to define what characteristics my image must have.

    If I have defined for myself that I am doing things in an Ansel Adams style, then that puts me in a box and defines certain expectations of look and sharpness. Or if I have defined that I am doing portrait photography in the style of Richard Avedon, that sets expectations of subject matter and style and print sizes.

    But notice that these are self imposed limitations. I reserve the right to define for myself the nature of perfection for my images. It may or may not include technical perfection.

    How can an “imperfect” image be good?

    If I set the definition of perfection for my images, then what does imperfect mean? It will only be imperfect if I fail to achieve the result I want.

    Think of some of the great shots of photojournalism or street photography. Some of them are a little our of focus. They might be over or under exposed. They might be grainy. But they captured a moment, an emotion, a comment on the human condition that completely overwhelmed all technical considerations. They are great despite their imperfections. Maybe because of them.

    I love (and was infuriated by) the types of comments I used to hear in camera club competitions. A judge might say “the composition would be improved if the photographer had taken 2 steps left”. I appreciate your feed back, but if I had moved left even 1 foot further I would have been over the edge of a cliff. Thank you, I will live with the composition I could get. It works, despite your sincere attempt to improve it.

    Past perfection

    So what do I mean by moving past perfection? For me it is the realization that perfection is not the highest goal. An image can be excellent even if there are technical flaws. Other things can and often are more important. The recording a “perfect” moment that exactly captures the nature and personality and essence of the subject can make a great image, even if there are imperfections.

    Actually, I am finding a lot of my current work is intentionally “imperfect”. I often use camera motion or subject motion as a design element. Some entire projects do not have a single sharp pixel in them. That is what I want, so I am pleased with it.

    A different take on craftsmanship is being able to use your medium to achieve your goals. Would you rather follow your own goals and create work that pleases you or struggle to achieve someone else’s ideal of perfection?

    Judge by your expectations

    No one except you can judge the perfection of your work. The definition of perfection is yours and yours only. They might say they would like it better if it was sharper or more/less colorful, or more/less saturated, of brighter/darker, or composed differently, or if the mid tone contrast was enhanced/reduced. And they may be “right”, in the sense that, after you think about it you decide yes, if I were shooting it again I would change it somewhat.

    But it is you changing your expectations that causes the difference in evaluation. No one else is in a position of judging your work unless you allow them to.

    Today’s image

    This is a horribly imperfect image. And it is just what I wanted. 🙂 It was shot out of a fast train in France. I wanted to represent the sense of speed and motion and changing terrain whipping by. There is not a single sharp pixel in the frame. The focus may not be right, I can’t tell. But this was one of the best of many, many tries, and to me, it captures what I was perceiving.

  • Packaged Experience

    Packaged Experience

    Do you create your own photo experiences and adventures or do you rely on packaged experiences? I hope to encourage you to have the confidence to create your own most of the time.

    Packaged experience

    What is a packaged experience? It is any situation where you purchase a ready made happening from a vendor. Someone who offers you a ready to go vacation or adventure you can just step into and passively enjoy.

    A classic example of a packaged experience is a Disney World vacation. Space Mountain and Epcot may be fun and maybe somewhat magical seeming for the kids, but not much for an artist. Another example is a typical vacation cruise. New scenery, good food, but it seldom qualifies as an adventure or a unique experience.

    In both cases, everything is wrapped up in a neat package, all the sharp edges are protected, and a manufactured packaged experience is provided to you. These are exactly the reasons I recommend you avoid them.

    It’s not really an adventure

    An adventure is “an unusual and exciting, typically hazardous, experience or activity”. Packaged experiences are seldom unusual, since you are buying the same product sold to a million other people before and after you. A simulated rocket ride or a roller coaster may seem exciting for a few minutes, because they shake you around and it seems dangerous. But the reality is they are carefully controlled and not at all dangerous, unless you have a serious heart condition. They are a simulation of adventure. Once you reach an age where you realize the Pirates of the Caribbean are not going to stab you, no matter what you do, it should cease to hold much excitement. Unless you step into a Westworld situation, but that is unlikely.

    The packaged experience is in no way unique or dangerous. It’s effects are short lived. There is no long term benefit or learning from it. And even worse from an artistic point of view, it gives you little chance for creativity or exploration of new ideas.

    Maybe the worst part, from my point of view, is that in a packaged experience you did not have to put any of yourself in it. You are a passive spectator.

    Roll your own

    I guess it can seem intimidating if you’re not used to being responsible for your own adventures. And if you are taking the family maybe you want to be extra careful for the kids. But even for them – especially for them – wouldn’t it be wonderful to give them a legacy of being able to amuse and entertain themselves in strange places?

    What does it take? Just a good attitude and the willingness to try it. No special training is required. You have to be open to accepting things as they come and learning to like them. It is almost all your attitude that determines what benefits you will receive.

    Let me give an example of a pattern of things that formed some of my belief in this. Way back, when timeshares were a good thing and not yet ruined by greedy developers, we bought one. Kind of on the spur of the moment. No real planning or investigation. Well, the real utility for us was that we always traded for other locations in some part of the world. So we had a week tied to some location we had never been to. Initially we would get somewhere, explore the area a day or 2, then ask ourselves what we are going to do now? But we were stuck there. Sometimes these places were way out in the middle of nowhere.

    We were forced to amuse ourselves. We would start to explore the vicinity more slowly and carefully. It amazed us what kind of interesting (and photogenic) things we discovered. Looking back on it, I can see what should have been obvious then. Almost every place has interesting things to find, quirky and interesting people, local things they pride themselves on, unique history, local food specialties to try, and just things you have never seen.

    Trust your ability

    We’re just not used to slowing down and looking at what is right in front of us. Instead, we’re looking for the tourist attractions with bright neon signs. The places listed on the tour brochures as welcoming busses of tourists (and having a big gift shop).

    The time share experience taught me to settle in and look around to see what I can find. I can’t remember how many time share trades we did, I would guess at least 20. In all of those, even when we were initially disappointed with an area, there was not one where we went away at the end of a week saying we will never come back there. I remember the very first one we went to was in Palm Desert CA – in August – it was 120F every day. And we loved it. I found fascinating places and sights I had never imagined. We would definitely like to go back, but maybe at a somewhat cooler time.

    I labeled this section trust your ability, but really, little ability is required. The biggest factor is attitude. Keep open and receptive to what is there. This is a learned skill more than any innate ability. I always had a bent toward traveling this way, but the time share experience taught me to recognize and develop it. Now I trust that this is the best way for me to travel.

    Don’t go overboard

    To keep it balanced, let me tell you about a friend I have who is a wilderness photographer. He goes on solo treks in the Rockies all the time, all seasons and weather. He has probably climbed all the peaks around here over 10,000 ft. Many in the winter. Wildlife encounters are not too rare. He builds and stays in snow caves. Blizzards and storms do not dissuade him. I think he is a little crazy. But that is his thing. He gets unique pictures of places and times few other people have seen.

    However, this is not what I am suggesting. It is not at all necessary to go to that kind of extreme to create unique adventures. Just go somewhere new and be open to what is there.

    Try it

    I encourage you to give it a try. It may take several outings before it becomes comfortable. That’s OK. Being uncomfortable is not a bad thing. Sometimes that just means you are learning something new and exercising a new skill.

    To get started, take some short trip, maybe one night. Head out someplace you haven’t been before, but not more than a few hours drive. Stay overnight – I recommend a nice local motel, not a big chain. It will be a little more adventurous and without the sterile industrial feel. Besides, small communities need your money. Then home. During the entire outing, give yourself a mission to stop and see and take pictures of anything even remotely interesting. An overlook, some nice trees, a classic old rusty car, a silly local tourist trap – whatever piques your interest. Let yourself go. Tell yourself you’re not in a hurry and you have permission to stop whenever you like. One of the purposes is to learn to find interests on your own.

    Photo Tours

    Many people I know host photo tours, so I want to address those. Different tours have a variety of goals. For this, let me divide them into 2 groups: tours that take you to famous sites and promise you to make the same well known pictures, vs tours that provide stimulation, discussion, and training while also taking you to interesting locations you have never been. I would call the first kind a packaged experience and advise you to avoid it. The second type, however, would be an enjoyable growth and learning experience. The sights and actual images you get are secondary to the adventure and new experiences. That is the kind of experience I would appreciate.

    Do it

    I know this isn’t for everbody. Some of you are such hard core Type A personalities that you can’t go to the hardware store with out written goals and a definite plan. So the idea of heading off anywhere without a well researched plan would be horrifying.

    But for the majority of us, I encourage you to give it a try. And persist long enough to get over the discomfort and have a fair test to see if you like it. When you learn to see like this, every outing becomes an adventure. Walks in your town become new and filled with sights you never noticed. Trips where you actually get away are more exciting, because you are constantly discovering new things that are not on the tourist brochures. Things that are special to you, that become “yours”. It can revolutionize your life.

    Today’s image

    An interesting road sign found on a tiny back road in Devon, England. We were staying at a time share miles out in the middle of nothing. Wandering around, we found many terrific discoveries. It was a lovely area that is a special place for us still. No tourist map or guide book would have taken you here.