Ed Schlotzhauer

An artists journey

Tag: fear

That Didn’t Work
You had an idea. You tried for it, but the result must be considered a failure. If that didn’t work, what do you do? Does that mean you are a bad artist?
An idea
You get an idea of something you want to try. Call it an inspiration if you will. More likely it is an extension of what you have done before, maybe applied to a new subject or situation.
As an artist, most of our work begins with an idea. As a photographer, we than follow up the idea with trying to realize it as an image. Maybe several, working different positions, lenses, shutter speeds, etc. to try to optimize the resultant image.
If you are very experienced with your craft, you might be able to visualize fairly accurately what the result will be. But no matter how experienced you are, you will get surprises. Surprised can be fun and a great creativity boost.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Fail
But whether you blast away 100 frames or selectively shoot 1 frame of a scene, you will sometimes look at the result and say it was a fail. How we react to such a failure is very important. Your reaction could ultimately determine the level of success you have later.
I’m using the idea of failing, but what does that mean? The definition will be different for each of us, but in general, I hope we can agree that it means the result does not meet our expectation. It does not necessarily mean the image is terrible or unusable, or even bad, but what we planned or pre-visualized did not happen.
At the risk of sounding like a cliché, this is a learning opportunity.©Ed Schlotzhauer
Permission to fail
Failure seems like a terrible fault to some of us. I am one of those in many things, but not in my photography. For my art, I have given myself not only permission to “fail”, but the expectation that I will and should. I have embraced failure as a healthy part of growing as an artist.
This was a big step for me. I discovered that the fact of failure was not the main problem. The larger problem was fear of failure.
How much are we held back in our art by fear of failure? Do we fear being humiliated? Or that people will dismiss us as an untalented lightweight? Do we believe we are somehow bad when a shot does not meet our expectation?
Here’s the reality: few people care about what we do. They are not sitting around thinking about us and they take little or no notice of our work. If they’re not fixated on it, why should we be?
We are our main audience. Our work succeeds or fails based on our own perception. All that matters is whether we get to a result we are happy with. Failures along the way should not matter.
Risk
Author Herman Melville once said, “It is better to fail in originality than to succeed in imitation.” I believe the greater risk in our autistic life is to fail to be creative.
AI is constantly learning how to mimic all existing art. The only solution is to be different from what exists.
If we are repeating the same boring stuff that 99% of photographers do, what have we contributed to art or to ourselves? Chasing likes on social media is normalizing. That is, it brings us down to the average level of everyone else.
Theodore Roosevelt said: “It is hard to fail, but it is worse never to have tried to succeed. In this life we get nothing save by effort.” If we are an artist, the risk is to not give it our full effort and not become what we can be. To let what is within us die because of fear of failure. That seems too great a fate to risk.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Learn, modify, try again
The sports legend Michael Jordan said “I’ve missed more than 9,000 shots in my career. I’ve lost almost 300 games. 26 times I’ve been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.“
Unlike Michael Jordan, we don’t have millions of fans watching live as we fail. We have the opportunity to curate our work and select what gets presented to people to see. You won’t see my failures, unless I am trying to make a point.
Given that, why should we consider failure a problem? A failure is an experiment. We try something, we see the result, and we like it, or we don’t. Either way we can learn something new and try again. But the reality is, we learn more from failing than from success. But only if we make the effort to figure out the cause.
So, when we’re shooting, we have an idea or a vision of what we want to achieve. We make the image. Later, we examine it closely on our computer. Sometimes the result is far from what we envisioned. That is a time to introspect. To determine what we did or didn’t do that made the result different from what we wanted. Maybe to ask if the result is better or worse than what we visualized.
These days, I find that less of my fails are because of exposure or composition problems. Most are concept-level issues. Ansel Adams said “There is nothing worse than a sharp image of a fuzzy concept.” Concept failures are harder to diagnose and correct, but they certainly keep me thinking more.
But whatever the cause of our failure, our goal should be to learn, modify, and try again.
Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.
Winston Churchill
Sketches
I consider most of my images to be sketches. Things that are helping me work toward an idea I haven’t fully envisioned. When I shot film, these experiments were expensive, and I tried to minimize the loss. Digital frames seem almost free. No problem to take several experimental tries.
So now we should be free to work a scene as much as seems valuable. But I seldom do it that way. My sketches are more tests to see if what I saw can become a good image. Perhaps it is a fault of mine, but I spend little effort making many slight variations of a scene.
I don’t like doing comparison tests of 12 different views of a scene to try to figure out which is best. If I come up with 4 that are equally good, how do I decide a “best”? When I find myself in this situation, I often conclude I am not really applying much creativity to the image. I seem to be optimizing for technical concerns.
A possible exception is shooting intentional camera motion (ICM) images. Each frame could be considered a failure from a purist technical perspective – blurry, motion, no sharp subject. These are fun because it is an abstraction technique, and each frame is unique. For these, I may do a few variations on a scene, trying different motion techniques. You never know exactly what the outcome will be. There are occasional happy surprises.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Discoveries
When we allow ourselves permission to fail, we sometimes discover that we have stumbled onto something entirely new. We see a glimpse of a new creative statement starting to form.
This is a different form of courage in the face of failure. The recognition that yes, we failed in what we tried, but it opened a new insight on our world. The first emergence of this new idea is probably crude. It seems like a failure. But as we reflect on why we are drawn to it, why we do not immediately delete it, it may give new insight to change our viewpoint and try to perfect it.
This is one of those rare and exciting moments when we get a tingling in our spine and we perk up and wonder what just happened here? That is a cue that we are about to step outside our comfort zone. It is dangerous for an artist to be too comfortable for too long.
That is creativity. Sometimes creativity is based on recognizing that what I did didn’t work, but I now see a glimpse of something better. Being an artist is a process, not a destination. Failure can be an opportunity to advance ourselves to a better state. Analyze it, experiment, modify, try again to see if you are going in a good direction.
Sometimes, finding “that didn’t work” could mean we are on the brink of an exciting new step in our art.
August 20, 2025
Choose Your Style
Many photographers wonder if they have a style, especially if they are fairly new to the game. Do you ever look at the wonderful work other photographers are publishing and think it would best to choose your style to be like them? Don’t.
What is considered a style?
There is no hard and fast rule that defines what a “style” is. To some, it is the type of subjects you shoot. That is, they see little or no difference between style and genre. Here is another list, longer almost to the point of being absurd, but still talking mostly about what the subject is.
Others refer to photographic style as the effects you use to make your final picture. Our phones have an abundance of them. You can find many sets of “styles” available to purchase for use in LIghtroom Classic or Photoshop. They are mostly shortcuts for making your picture look a lot like another artist’s work.
More advanced authors extend the concept to include not only what you shoot, but how you shoot it..This is starting to get to the point.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
My view
When you look at some famous photographer’s work, can you make a good guess who made the image? That is because they have an established and recognizable style.
In my view, style is not as much about what you shoot as it is about what the final image looks like. This final image is not only a function of what the subject is and how you “treat” it to get the look you want, but how you were thinking about it, and the lens you choose and how you frame and compose and expose it. In other words, your own viewpoint on it.
You have a point of view, the way you see the world around you that is different from anyone else. This determines your style. It comes naturally.
That is why, when you see a print of a grand landscape with superb detail and the blue sky printed almost to black, there is a good chance that is Ansel Adams. When you see another black & white image, but blurred in a long time exposure and overall very dark, it may well be a Cole Thompson. Those things are not certain, but they have a defined style.
Can you copy one?
One of the ways we learn is to copy. It is instructive, and can be fun, to try on the style of famous artists to see if it “fits” us. We may find bits and pieces that we adopt.
But most of the time we will decide soon that that was instructive, but I’m done with it. Maybe we’ll go off to copy someone else for a while.
Ask yourself why you are copying someone else’s style. Is it because you admire their work and want to explore it in more depth? Are you really searching and trying to figure out what your style is? Is it because one is “popular” and you think it will help you to sell more?
I can’t question your motives, but I can predict that you will eventually give up trying to copy a style and settle down to doing your own work. It is hard to just copy. You are faking it. Besides, in a new situation, how would you copy someone if you haven’t seen any similar work they have done?
©Ed Schlotzhauer
How do you develop yours?
In most cases, you don’t. What you do is shoot a lot. Cartier-Bresson said your first 10,000 photos are the worst. I think one of the things he was telling us is that we have to experiment a lot to find out who we are.
Yes, we can copy other people’s styles to see if we can learn anything from them. If we are lucky, we might have good mentor to give us honest feedback. But ultimately, it is up to each of us to figure out who we are as artists.
I believe a style is something we look back on and discover. It is not something we plan to get to someday.
Look in your image catalog
How do we know if we have a style and understand what it is? A good start is examining your image catalog. I am using Lightroom terminology, but it applies to whatever sorting and filing system you use.
I assume you have a system for grading your images. You know which you consider your best. Have you put together portfolios? Small collections of your very best work organized by subject or project or location, for instance. If not, pick out, say, your 50 best images. Be brutal. This is important and you do not have to show them to anyone else.
Now go through them carefully and examine them from the point of view of what they can tell you about your artistic likes and beliefs. Are most of them landscapes? Are they predominantly square cropped or black & white or low key? Can you see that your favorite pictures are typically shot with a certain lens?
What about the subject matter? Are your favorites more likely to be a rusty truck than a portrait? Do you favor highly detailed or very simple? Sharp or intentional camera movement (ICM)? Travel locations or mostly close to home?
There are too many questions to enumerate. The idea is to look at this body of work and figure out who you are as an artist. This is you. This is your style. It certainly does not mean this is all you can do. It is just what you naturally gravitate to.
Now you can stop trying to be someone else and concentrate on developing yourself.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Be who you are
This is a very enlightening exercise. You will probably come away thinking “wow, I have a style!” It can be very hard for us to think about and accept our style. That is just something that other people have. People who are real artists.
But yes, you do have a style. It is unique to you, so there is no need to try to copy someone else’s. Your point of view and values will come through in your images, if you are being honest with yourself.
Here is a recent personal example. I was watching a video by a photographer talking about his style. It wasn’t very interesting to me and I was about to turn it off when he said something that caught me. He said he understands his style to be very simple. He is a portrait photographer and he uses simple lighting, plain backgrounds, and basic head shot poses.
That lit up something in me. I hadn’t considered something like simplicity a dimension of style.
I did the exercise I recommended above and saw clearly for the first time that I like complexity, detail, extremes of color and contrast and action. That is a common thread through many of my favorite images.
What does it mean? Nothing in itself. It is just some insight on my work. But I understand myself a little better now. I will be less surprised when I see I am being drawn to these.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Choose your style
I started with the notion of whether or not we should choose our style. I hope I have established that you don’t really choose your style. Your style chooses you. You can imitate someone else’s style for a while for the education and experience, but ultimately we find ourselves drawn back to what comes naturally to us.
Don’t fight it. Don’t worry about it. Relax. Be yourself.
But to be yourself, you have to continually learn and practice and improve. It is a lifelong quest.
March 12, 2025
Staying Creative
Since you are reading this, you probably call yourself a “creative”. That is great. But creativity seems to be cyclic. Staying creative is a continuous process. Some would say a struggle.
Cycles
Creativity is not a constant level. We experience creative peaks where exciting new work seems to burst from us. But we also have low points. In those troughs we don’t feel like we can generate any creative ideas. It is depressing and scary.
The encouraging reality is that this is normal. We do not and cannot operate at a peak of creative output all the time. We empty the tank. The reserve has to be refilled. It can’t be predicted or planned, but at some point it seems to dry up. But keep in mind that we really do not know what creativity is.
We know it is cyclic. And we know it will come back at some point. But when we are in that valley it can seem like a time of doom and gloom. Will it ever come back? Have I used up all the creativity I had and now I will never have any again?
You have thought these things. Admit it. I’m not the only one with these fears.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Forcing creativity
So what do we do? At some point we often resort to forcing it. We are determined to regain our creative highs, so we try to make our self create.
How does that work for you? Probably as poorly as it does for me. Sure, we can do some good work, even very good work. But we can’t kid ourselves that it is up to the level of our best.
Whatever it is in us that generates creativity operates on its own schedule. It is not sympathetic with our wishes. We can be welcoming and encouraging to it, but it does not operate at our command.
Do something
Now I will seem to contradict what I just said, but I do not believe it is a conflict. We will get through a creative valley easier and probably faster if we work through it. I used the idea of “emptying the tank” of our creativity. I believe practicing our craft and following our curiosity are very good behaviors to help refill it.
You may not be inspired with amazing new creative ideas, but go out and see what you can find. Explore. Do not expect to do your best portfolio work. Taking that pressure off will help you relax and lean into it. But doing something is better than sitting around moping.
It is a wonderful time to learn new skills, take some courses or watch some videos. Pick out some new technique you have been curious about and learn it. Practicing it now without all those creative bursts getting in the way is a good time to learn. It is a great time to explore some of those dark, scary corners of Photoshop that have intimidated you for a long time.
Like most of life, doing something is better than doing nothing. Don’t sit feeling sorry for yourself, thinking you are useless and have no more creativity. Fill. your time with learning, exploring, practicing, experimenting, even catching up with cataloging your images. And always follow your curiosity.
The word “create” is a verb. Be active. Go make things. Make dinner, make a drawing, make a fire, make some noise, but make. If all your attempts at being creative consist of passively consuming, no matter how brilliant what you consume is, you’ll always be a consumer, not a creator.
Scott Berkun, in The Myths of Innovation
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Relax
When creativity seems to slip away, when the muse no longer is with us, relax. It does not mean it is gone forever. Like waves, there are highs and lows. It will come back.
Even when we are not feeling inspired, we can keep on working and learning. Do not be passive and waste your time. Be preparing for the rush of creativity when it comes.
We are not a failure when it seems we cannot create astounding new things on command. We are recharging. Accept it. Go do your work anyway.
Have you done creative work you are proud of? Then you should be able to do it again when you are ready. Creativity is not a limited resource that is used up. When you are feeling it, pour it out on everything you do.
Let it flow
Being in a flow state is a great feeling. But it is not exclusive to feeling creative. Anytime you are immersed in applying your skill to a difficult and challenging problem you can be in flow.
Flow and creativity, then, are not synonymous. We can do great work even when we are not riding the crest of creativity. Don’t stop working.
Curiosity is the thing that pulls us along through life and through our art. It does not come and go like creativity. In that way, it is more powerful than creativity.
The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity. – Dorothy Parker
I like that idea that there is no cure for curiosity. I don’t want to be cured of it.
We can develop our curiosity by asking questions and wondering about things. Give yourself permission to follow your questions. Find the answers. Try things. See what happens. This healthy attitude will carry us through the ups and downs. Creativity may come and go, but our curiosity goes on and gets stronger.
So, even if you feel that your creativity has evaporated, trust that it will return again, just like it has in the past. While you are waiting, keep photographing, learn, practice, experiment, and especially, feed your curiosity. You might find that the extra kick of creativity is actually just an incremental boost to the power of your curiosity.
The artist is nothing without the gift, but the gift is nothing without work. – Emile Zola
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Staying creative
So, as far as staying creative. You won’t always be at your peak. Sometimes you may feel way down in the valley. Don’t panic. It will come back. In the meantime, there are things you can do to improve yourself as an artist and a person and to entice the creativity back. Work on your curiosity. Explore new ideas and techniques. When you feel the creativity flowing again, you will be even more ready to use it.
But no matter what, keep working.
Today’s image
Sunset downtown. I turned my view down to the parking lot instead of out at the glowing buildings. Is this creative? Or is it just following my curiosity? I don’t know. I will leave that for greater minds to decide. Either way, I was letting it flow.
January 29, 2025
The Hardest Part
I have figured out what I consider the hardest part of photography. Excluding Marketing. It is selecting a portfolio.
Pick a few
It’s a common situation. Perhaps I am entering a selection for a gallery competition. Maybe a client has requested a few choices for a job. It could be just needing to pick some images for this blog post. Whatever the reason, I am faced with the problem of selecting a small set of images for a certain use.
Oh sure, I have the images that would work. It’s not like I”m not happy with my choices. The problem is selecting only a few.
I’m calling what I am doing here making a portfolio. That is not precisely correct. Formally, a portfolio is a collection of images designed for presentation to an audience. Often one-on-one. However, the process is substantially the same for that and the situations I described. So I will not distinguish them.
Embarrassment of riches
Please don’t take it as bragging, but I have lots of images that I like. I have been at it a long time. Lots as in many thousands. That’s just the ones I promote to my top level selection category. A lot of others in my catalog would be useful for certain applications.
Yes, I have a disciplined filing system. Everything is culled through multiple levels of selection. I find it is hard to pick the ones I like best from a shoot, so my process is oriented around rejecting the ones that are not as good. I don’t know why, but it is easier for me to say “I don’t like that one as well” than to say “I like that one best.” That is repeated through multiple levels. I apply more stringent criteria at each level.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Most of my images are filed geographically and I have an extensive keyword system for tagging all sorts of information. And I use it.
All this should make it easy to find just what I want. You would think, but no. It is easier in that I am only wading through thousands, not hundreds of thousands of images to pick. But that’s not even the most difficult part.
No guidance
We are awash in training material to help us become better photographers. Some if it is actually good. There are thousands of hours of videos on camera operation and composition and visual design. Many more on techniques in the field and techniques for post processing. And gear guides are limitless. As are books to supplement the videos. All of this can help boost our knowledge and improve our technique.
But when it comes to pulling together a portfolio, the advice is: it’s hard, keep editing, get it down to a few great images.
Thanks, but that is not really helpful. Well, it is helpful to find out that I should expect it to be hard and I have to do it myself. But where is the video that shows me to pick this image instead of that one?
Should a choose a tight theme with carefully coordinated image selections, as for a project? Or would it be best to present a range of subjects and styles to show the breadth of my work? Would it help to research the curator of the exhibit to try to guess what they would like? Why would this image work better than that one?
I feel kind of left hanging out there.
I’m on my own
That’s the point and the conclusion. We are on our own. We have to be grown ups and make responsible decisions. That is no fun. It is downright hard. That’s why, to me, this is the hardest part.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
So a typical scenario is that I have to select, say, 4 images for a gallery. Open theme. I’m on my own. No guidance. It is very easy to go through my catalog and pull 50 images that I would like to submit. Another pass or two might get it down to 30 images. Then it gets harder and harder as I push on. I love every one of these images. Eliminating one seems like I am abandoning it. I know that’s not the case, but the feeling is there.
It is sometimes easier if I set it aside for a few days to let the emotions settle down. Then I do my best imitation of being coldly realistic to screen out some more. But what seems to happen is that I get down to, say, 8 images. I can only have 4. That final cut is extremely painful.
i envy people who have a colleague or mentor they can work with to advise the process. I don’t. The decisions have to be made by me with no help. I have an awesome wife, but she isn’t an artist and cannot help with this.
Well, I get there. It is painful. I come away with sadness because I had to eliminate some of my favorites in the final mix. That disappears with time, though. After a few days I can look at the final set and be proud of them.
Overthinking it
A reality is that I tend to overthink it. What I know is that the images I pull are all very good. And I know, and have demonstrated to myself often, that, with a set of excellent images, every time you eliminate one, you make the overall set stronger. That is, if you make intelligent choices. I try to remind myself of great advice I got one time that you will be judged by the worst image you show.
So why do I agonize over it so much? It’s not like I throw a great image away if I remove it from the set.
I think there are two problems. First is that I love these images and feel bad about taking one out, because I’m emotionally attached to it. I can live with that. But the second and bigger problem is, how do I know I have made the best choice?
Self doubt
That is the core of the problem. There is no guidance. I am on my own. There are much bigger and more important choices in life that are like this. Who to marry, what career to pursue, where to live, what investments to make, etc. We must use our judgment to make the decision. It hurts. We want someone to look over our shoulder and tell us we did the right thing. Unfortunately, being an adult doesn’t work like that.
Picking some images for a use is way down in importance from those big life events. Why is it so painful then? I think it is the same fear of failure and the consequences. But I try to be realistic.
So I try to convince myself that the final set I choose will be excellent. Even though I feel like I am in the spotlight and I am being examined to see if I am worthy, I know that if I do the best I can, that will be good enough. And if not, well, nobody dies.
I tell myself that, but it doesn’t feel like it when I am in the pain of the process.
All parts of the photographic process are interesting and challenging. All are subjective, But there seems to be a lot of help to be had in all phases of it up until the final image selection.
Resources
There actually are a couple of resources I have found to help give some education in this. Unfortunately they are not freely available. Peter Eastway, editor of Better Photography magazine, has written an excellent ebook on creating a portfolio. As it says, it is specifically oriented to putting together a portfolio or exhibit. But it still gives a lot of good insights.
Creating a Portfolio might be available at www.betterphotographyeducation.com without a subscription. If not, it is an excellent publication and you will enjoy it. 🙂
Another option that I have found out is not paywalled is a three part series of newsletters in the Paper Arts Collective newsletter. This is a hidden gem of a publication. The series I’m referring to was titled Evolution of a Small Project, and it traced the decisions and selection process he went through to put together an exhibit. If you do prints then you should check out Paper Arts Collective.
But I come back to my original problem. It is hard, no one can really help you, you have to make hard choices yourself based on your judgment and artistic vision. And you have to have confidence in your decisions. To me, it is the hardest part.
November 13, 2024
It Looks Like a Painting
This comment used to make me angry. But I have now rationalized that most people mean it as a compliment. If it looks like a painting then it must be art.
Is painting the standard?
For most people, painting means art. It is what they were taught. Photographs are those low value things they do on their phone. They’re mostly for memories and bragging rights on social media.
I believe most people view painting as “high art”. Like they might view classical music. After all, both are remote and fairly difficult to understand. Removed from their daily lives. High art is something they have been taught that they should value, but they seldom partake of it.
And paintings are viewed as difficult, labor intensive works requiring lots of training and “suffering”. That instills them with high value in many people’s estimation. It is not unusual for painters to encourage an aura of this being something so great and high that we cannot understand it. We viewers are lucky the artist will share a glimpse of such truth with us.
And on a practical note, a painting is one of a kind. The artist paints one original. This increases the value of the work in some markets.
Some people, looking at one of my images, describe it as “painterly”. To them, this is a compliment. Even photo reviewers occasionally use the term. Internally, I usually cringe, unless it was actually my goal to look like a painting.
So for my peace of mind I have decided to accept “it looks like a painting” as a sincere compliment. It may be alien to my goals and values as a photographer, but is probably the best way a lot of people know of to say “it is art”.
What does a painting look like?
I will consider that a “painting” is some type of color medium applied to a substrate like paper or canvas by hand. I will stretch the definition to include pouring or throwing paint. Typical color mediums are oil, acrylic, watercolor, or pastel.
The “by hand” seems to be important. Until print reproductions are made, all paintings are originals. Many people consider a “mechanically created” print inferior to a painting because it was too easy to make.
Brushes are most often used to apply the color. Although they come in a wide range of sizes, and it is possible to create very detailed paintings, generally paintings are a somewhat coarse expression of a scene. That expression is considered part of the artistry.
This is what people think of as a painting. It is an Albert Bierstadt painting titled “Rocky Mountain Landscape”. As someone who lives in the Rockies, I can attest this is purely fictional:
From the White House Collection. Image from Google Art Project
An artist typically paints a scene they can observe (or make up). This means the scene is fairly static. Unless, of course, they take a picture of it and paint from a photographic print. Is that allowed? Does that make the painting something else? 🙂
So paintings are generally relatively large, static scenes, less detailed than a photograph, and created by hand.
Do I want my image to look like a painting?
Do I want my image to look like a painting? Great question. Sometimes yes. Usually no.
This is a fairly typical image I do that screams PHOTORGRAPH. It could be painted, but then that would be a painter trying to make his work look like a photograph. 🙂
© Ed Schlotzhauer
Why would I want an image to look like a painting? I do occasionally enjoy creating abstract images. Sometimes they work best done as a dreamy, blurry, hand drawn look. I love that photography can achieve a wide variety of effects. I enjoy pushing the boundary and creating an unexpected look.
But in these cases, I have chosen to create the image with this look. My goal was not to “make it look like a painting”. Sometimes an image tells me what it wants to look like. Sometimes what it wants to look like is what most people consider “painterly”. If that is what is right for the image, then OK.
Don’t feel inferior
I think photography is an amazing art form. Its versatility is unsurpassed. Being technology based allows it to operate somewhat outside the limits of the artist’s mind. We can explore time and scale and space and even non-visual realms in ways that other artistic mediums can only copy.
With photography, we can make one print and stop or we can make 1000 prints. We can re-scale a file to make a print very small to fit into a locket or up to wall-sized for a gallery or to decorate a large room. Or even billboards or the sides of buildings.
Never let the intelligentsia convince you you are somehow inferior to painters or other “real” arts. They are just trying to protect their self interests. Photography is as real as any art. Be proud of your art.
So when someone tells you your image looks like a painting, be gracious. Don’t launch into a lecture about why they are wrong and how they do not understand. This would be rude and even insulting. Accept it as a compliment. They are using terms they know to tell you they like your work and consider it good art. Be happy. But also be confident that it does not have to look like a painting to be great art.
Today’s featured image
The image at the top would be considered “painterly” by many people. Did I want it to look like a painting? No. I was exploring possibilities of long shutter speeds with flowing water and reflections in a river. I knew from experience that I could often get abstract results I like. This is an example.
I like it. It is abstract, and it flows and has a lot of subtle details of interest. Does it look like a painting? That is for you to decide. If you think that, great. But it is not a label I try for when I am creating. I would not market my work as “looks like a painting”.
October 16, 2024