Ed Schlotzhauer

An artists journey

Tag: fine art photography

Impatience
Here’s a confession: one reason I’m a photographer is that I’m too impatient to do any other type of art I like (except writing). Have you ever considered that photography is a form of impatience?
Not painting
I long ago figured out that I could never be happy painting. I can’t draw well. Most of my grandkids exceeded my drawing ability when they were about 4. Well, I have one who is only 6 weeks old, so I can do better than him. But even more than my inability to draw, I know that I would not be able to keep my interest going through rounds of sketches and design trials, and through days or weeks of work manually laying pigment on a canvas to create a finished work.
And then if I want another copy, I must either photograph it and make prints or go through the manual work of painting another one. I guess that enforced scarcity works to the advantage of a painter by keeping numbers low and prices high.
I’m just not wired that way. If I see something interesting, I want it captured now. And if you like it and want a print, I want to be able to make a copy for you quickly.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Not short attention span
Based on what I said, you might assume I have a short attention span. But that’s not true. In my career as an Engineer I would often get so lost in a project that I might disappear in it for hours without remembering to eat or go to the bathroom. Flow states were common. Even now, I can spend hours reading or writing or working on images on the computer. No, I can focus my attention fully on something I am interested in.
The problem is a type of boredom that stems from impatience. If I am not engaged, if something is not keeping my interest, I tend to avoid or abandon it. More of my life is behind me than in front of me. I can feel that, and my reaction is to walk away from things that I consider a waste of my time. Time can’t be saved, only spent well.
For instance, as I write this, it is tax time in the US. I gather up all of my data and hand it off to someone else to go through the details of figuring it and filling out the forms. It is worth it to me to pay them. Otherwise, I would go crazy beating my head against that mindless bureaucracy.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Spontaneity
I find that in my art, I love spontaneity. If I see something interesting, I want to capture it immediately. Spending hours, if necessary, working it on the computer is not a problem. I did the raw image capture when I saw it. That satisfied my basic need.
My photography is almost exclusively “in the moment”. I am a hunter-gatherer. Planning usually does not go farther than “it should be stormy tomorrow. Maybe I’ll head east to see if I can find some good shots without getting caught in a tornado.” Literally, being aware of tornadoes, hail, or serious thunderstorms is a primary consideration where I live. But that makes for some great images.
I know that some people plan their shoots in great detail. They want to know the exact day and time and location to be at to get “the shot.” This doesn’t work for me. Unless it is a commercial shoot, that much planning narrows my options too much. It takes all the spontaneity out.
I don’t care about “the shot” as much as finding something interesting that I can exercise creativity on.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Work with what’s there
Why do I work this way? The simple answer is “it works for me.” I am generally happy with the results I get, even if I sometimes come back with nothing. The thrill of the hunt is reward enough. It is a percentage game. Win a few, lose a few, the process is satisfaction. The benefit of finding a new viewpoint or something unique is enough.
Perhaps I’m an endorphin junky. If I’m out and about my subconscious may recognize something, even if it is just a potential to be worked. It alerts me to it, and this creates a burst of light/energy/warmth, whatever. It is difficult to describe. But there is a joy and excitement of discovery. Each find creates a kind of high. I would not be finding these things if I was fixed to a shot list and schedule.
Plus, there is something about my psyche that enjoys working with a real scene rather than creating a fictitious world. I may take the image, or bits and pieces of several and create something different, abstract, even surreal. but ultimately my raw material is real world elements.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
It fits me
So, I have learned and rationalized that photography fits me. I prefer to “run and gun” instead of carefully planning. I want to be inspired by what I discover and be able to capture it immediately. Then go on to the next scene that stimulates me.
It’s not so much the overall time. An image may require hours of computer work to perfect. It is the lack of barrier between what I see and what I capture that keeps me going. My creativity likes to work spontaneously and in the flow. That is one reason I could never express my art in painting.
Sure, I could try to do plein air painting or paint from photographs. But why? Plein air painting seems to me to be attempting to (slowly) capture a photograph. And if I were to paint from a photograph, I would have to wrestle with the question of why not just print the photograph?
So, over time, I concluded that photography is my art. Besides not being able to draw, I would be bored trying to express my vision so slowly and painfully. I like to move fast when I see something interesting. It is a joy to get in a flow, to follow my mood and instincts.
I have great respect for good painters. But I could not be content doing what they do. Too much impatience.
March 25, 2026
A Blank Canvas
Some people seem to hunt for the same images others have already taken. I go out with a blank canvas to fill with what I experience or visualize.
Research
I have known many people who would never go anywhere without thoroughly researching the location. They study samples of photos there. An itinerary will probably be planned, scheduling locations and the best time of day to be there and places to stand to shoot each scene.
The internet has amazing resources for doing this type of research. You can see exactly when and where the sun will rise and set. Likewise, when the moon will rise and set and the phase. You can virtually “stand” in any location and look around and see the view. And, of course, there are endless galleries of photos from most locations.
I am not criticizing this. We each do what works best for us. This does not work for me. I am not a planner in this way. I would. prefer to be surprised. Finding something interesting is more important to me than coming away with a certain pre-planned shot.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Iconic locations
And how many people plan whole vacations around traveling to prime iconic locations to photograph? I guess, if you are new to photography, there is an excitement around being able to say, “I can shoot that, too.” Some have their “bucket list” they want to fill out. Maybe it seems to build a sort of credential.
I do not resonate with this. I have little interest with going somewhere just to metaphorically put my tripod feet in the holes others have worn over the years. It is great to visit beautiful locations. I cannot help but snap some pictures. But I would seldom consider putting them in a portfolio. To me, this is filling my canvas with someone else’s picture. But then, I’m weird.
A possible exception is an iconic location I can become intimately familiar with. For instance, I live less than an hour from Rocky Mountain National Park. I have shot a lot there. I am beginning to develop a relationship with it. It’s moods and weather changes, its commonly seen and out of the way sights are familiar. I feel this lets me see it in a very different way from an occasional tourist. Still, though, most of the pictures I would choose to show are somewhat different from the classic iconic shots. By getting familiar with a location, I can discover how I see it on a deeper level.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Likes
And there is the great lure of social media likes. It is a deep psychological addiction the tech companies have hooked people on.
I can’t say it is impossible to make actual friends on social media. And I agree that there can be some benefit to posting some photos to see the reactions. I’m afraid, though, that for some of us, it becomes a game of collecting the most “likes” to validate ourselves.
Thank you, but I’ll pass. The way to maximize likes is to shoot the bland, ordinary pictures that the masses like. A pretty sunset always gets likes. I would rather create images that excite me. If I am going to go to the trouble of filling my canvas, shouldn’t I make something that pleases me?
©Ed Schlotzhauer
What is a blank canvas?
I have been using this metaphor of a blank canvas, but what does that mean? I think of my digital file as a canvas. It is a surface to paint on.
As photographers, we paint with light. I and many others have noted that one of the unique aspects of photography is that, when we click the shutter release, everything in the field of view of our lens is recorded. So, we must be very careful to decide beforehand what we want to image and what to exclude. This is one aspect of filling my canvas.
Alternatively, we can use a more painterly technique of drawing and brushing or copy/pasting or compositing to build an image “from scratch.”
Either way, a digital image is created. That is my workflow. I do not do film anymore.
Both the paths I described involve deliberate artistic decisions rather than just “Pretty – Click”. The camera and computer are tools to use to make art. We must bend the tools to our will and vision.
Some of us focus a lot on the technology. We use only the best prime lenses with the highest resolution sensors and always use a steady tripod to capture the finest detail that can be obtained. I understand.
Personally, I have fallen out of love with technology. I no longer will decide not to print an image because it was shot with a lens that did not have optimum lines of resolution. Ultimate technical perfection is no longer my goal.
So, basically, my blank canvas is my digital file. It starts as empty. I choose what to image or draw or composite onto this canvas. Hopefully, it is a well-chosen creative decision.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Who am I shooting for?
In the end, I want to create images that please me. I am the audience that matters most. The ones I really like are seldom standard iconic scenes anymore and they are not designed to maximize likes.
Rule of thirds? Don’t care. Expose to the right? Maybe, maybe not. Sharp focused subject? Not necessarily. Locked down on a tripod for maximum sharpness? Probably not, maybe exactly the opposite. Don’t photograph in the middle of the day. Ridiculous!
Those technical considerations are of little interest to me. I delight in going against normal conventions. A good image is usually one I consider creative, a fresh point of view, something I’ve never seen and that I think my viewers have not seen.
But there is a problem with that. Once I have shot it, it is not as creative anymore. I might explore the idea for a while until it has run its course, but then I must keep going to find something else new and creative. But that is part of what excites me. The goal line is always moving. There is no point where I believe I will be able to say, “I have arrived; I am the perfect artist.”
My photography is an exercise in creativity. It is a creative image that I want on my canvas. Even if it is not technically perfect. It may even be impossible to make the image technically perfect. That does not bother me anymore.
What will you choose to write on your canvas? Copies of the same standard shots or fresh, new work? We make the choice every time we pick up our camera and contemplate that blank canvas.
March 18, 2026
Your Favorite Photograph
Has someone ever asked to see your favorite photograph? I have. I was frozen. There was no way to answer that.
Your favorite
I tend to take things too literally. This is a legacy of my Engineering background. So, when I hear talk of a “favorite” image, I think of a singular, one and only favorite. One image above all the others.
That is what freezes me into inaction. I have far too many images that I like to narrow it down to a single one.
When I go through my best images collection, my “favorite” will change from day to day, even moment to moment. It depends on my mood and what I am thinking about. Am I in the mood for landscapes or street scenes; waterfalls or architecture; vibrant color or B&W, realism or abstract? I don’t believe any are inherently better than others.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
What does favorite mean?
What does “favorite” mean? This is where I get hung up. A literal definition is preferred above all others of the same kind, or closest to one’s heart. I can’t do that. Maybe this is a fault of mine, but I can’t choose a single above all photograph.
My suspicion is that when talking about favorite pictures, people take a broader view of the meaning. If we extend it to say we mean it is a choice or a pick then I can follow along. I can have a lot of choice images without having to designate one as the ultimate, number one winner.
Too many favorites
I have mentioned my lengthy selection and promotion process for images. It’s kind of like a playoff series where images must compete head-to-head to get promoted. The difference is that it is not a zero-sum game. A winner does not mean there had to be a loser.
That process has led to a situation I have identified: too many favorites. An embarrassment of riches.
Right now, I am, for the first time, working through just my top-rated images specifically to cull them. I am (trying to be) brutal. These are the images I have at one time marked as my best. None of them are being deleted, just potentially demoted to a lower level.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Competition
This quickly leads to 2 problems: I like them, and I probably need to tweak them.
I like each one of them. Obviously, they have each individually earned a spot in the top group. To eliminate one of them means either my tastes have changed, or my skill has improved, or my expectations of what I want to create have changed. Or maybe I have another very similar image that can replace it.
We are not static beings. I know my taste changes as I grow and have new experiences. This leads to some images “falling out of favor” in the overall scope of my work. I accept that. It is a good reason to remove some from the favorite category.
Another thing I observe is that I look at some images that were favorites and realize that my skill set and/or my equipment has improved, and these are no longer up to my standards.
My personal criterion is that I can randomly select any of my favorite images and show it to anyone and not be ashamed. I would be ashamed of some of the old ones. They’re out. It may hurt, but less is more.
Just a little tweak
The other part of the process that is making this take so long is that I can seldom look critically at one of my images without needing to tweak something. My tools have improved and my knowledge of how to use the tools has increased since I took a lot of these.
Therefore, I see most images needing some correction. Some are very slight but some need more extensive edits.
Let’s say each image needs from 2 minutes to 30 minutes of study and manipulation. I won’t give an exact number, but figure there are thousands of images in my top set. That is making for a very long process.
But it is rewarding. I have revisited images that I haven’t thought about for years. Sometimes I must conclude they are unworthy of being in the top group. Sometimes I remember and appreciate them anew. Each one brings back memories of the time and place and circumstances. A pleasant trip down memory lane.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Expectations
Another factor is that my expectations of what I want to create is a moving target. My interests change. My values and notions of quality changes.
These images I am culling are in my Lightroom catalog. In addition to those, I have stacks of slides and film images that go back much further. Maybe someday I will start revisiting them.
But even over the years I have been shooting digital I can see a steady progression of what and how I shoot. Way back I was fixated on technical quality. Esthetics was not the main component of my values.
Then I progressed to concentrating more on composition and design principles. My work got somewhat better, but in general, it was still lacking depth. It was good pictures of things, not about things.
Now I find that I don’t worry about making “prize winning” pictures. You know, the ones designed to win competitions or get the most “likes”. I don’t care about that anymore. I try to make images that I like and that are more unique, quirky even, with a fresh point of view. Ones that express my feelings about what I am seeing. And I am turning more abstract in my vision.
These are the ones I find myself promoting in my top collection. Images that are simply a good technical photo tend to drop out. The ones that are intensely human and obviously not AI survive.
As I write this, I am about ⅓ of the way through my top collection. I haven’t kept detailed records, but it looks like I am eliminating about 20% of the ones I have re-evaluated. It hurts sometimes, but I must remind myself they are not being thrown away, just demoted because they do not belong here. It is said that every time you intelligently remove an image from a portfolio, the portfolio get stronger.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Defined by 1 photo
So, even culled down, out of all these is there a single favorite image? No. My conclusion is that I cannot define myself by 1 image. It will be impossible for me to choose the one image I hold above all the others. The one that definitively and completely says, “this is who I am”.
The only way I could come close to doing that is if I play the game of saying to myself this is my best image – right now, in the mood I’m in, if I don’t go back and look again, but it will change tomorrow. I seldom play games and that one doesn’t interest me. I will just be content knowing that I cannot choose just one.
Favorite photograph
Even within the set that I consider my best images, there are subsets that I like more than others. Yes, I can have favorites within favorites. Some are just more impactful to me personally or grab my current sense of aesthetics more.
But those favorites of the favorites may easily be dozens or hundreds of images. I do not have a single favorite photograph.
So, if the situation comes up again where someone asks to see my favorite photograph, I hope to be more ready. Depending on the context, I might point to one of my images and say, “this is one of my favorites.”
March 11, 2026
Elevate Me
Why do you view art? Is it just to enjoy it, to see what other people are doing, to get ideas? I do those, but at a slightly deeper level, it is to elevate me.
Elevate
I admit to being somewhat jaded about art after years of focusing on it and trying to make it. It seems sometimes that my artistic appreciation is dulled, drained. I have seen so much that it is unusual to encounter anything that excites me. It is a sea of sameness.
I read an article that said that our dopamine sensitivity falls off 10% per decade after we get to be adults. Therefore, the things that excited us in the past don’t have the same impact later. I think I feel this in my life. I don’t get juiced as easily.
But then it happens. Something breaks through my deadened barriers and grabs me and shakes me. An artist has created something that speaks to me, shouts to me even.
When I thought there was nothing new to discover, I discover something new. When I thought I couldn’t get excited any more, suddenly I am – metaphorically – jumping and shouting.
This piece lifts me up; pulls me out of the depressing sameness I thought was the norm. It elevates me. I see more clearly and can think new thoughts. I become a better person. There is reason to go on.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Inspire
An event like this is inspiring. When I was beginning to think there is nothing new and creative to be done, suddenly that depression is shaken, even broken.
A new work like this can point the way to new ways of viewing my work. Not to copy the other artist, but as the introduction of new ideas into my thought process. New ideas are there to chase. New possibilities appear.
It is a joy to be given the gift of new vision to see the world with.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Challenge
Events like this are a challenge to us. Rather than depressing us because of the remarkable insight another artist had, it is an enticement to use it to catapult us to a whole new place. I may not want to do work at all like theirs, but something in their work shook me. Something helped reveal new directions. It gave me a glimpse of a distant place I want to find.
I used to believe that the best creative challenges came from within. Now I see that other artist’s creativity shapes many of those challenges. Yes, they come from within, but part of them may have come from something we see in another artist’s work that reacts with something in us to germinate a new idea.
There is an old quote I always liked but never fully understood:
Immature artists imitate. Mature artists steal.
Lionel Trilling
As mature artists, we do not imitate something we see that inspires us. Copying does not recreate their work or produce new work we can be proud of. Instead, we try to isolate what excited us, distill it down to its essence, and incorporate that flavor, that scent, into our thought process. It influences our new work.
I steal the inspiration and re-form it into something of my own. It elevates me. From this elevated position, I can see further. I can discover new things.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Artist’s intent
Where does meaning and intent come in? For me, it doesn’t matter much. I have said before that I believe I must try to bring my feelings and intent out in my images. But I have also said I believe the only thing that matters to a viewer is the feelings and meaning they derive from the image.
Christopher P. Jones is a writer on Medium who analyzes the structure and composition and symbolism painters put into great works. His articles are very interesting, and they reveal background and levels of depth I had no idea about. It is educational.
But, when I look at a famous painting or another artist’s photograph, all I can get is what I perceive, the meaning and depth I take from it. To the artist, it may be the deepest, most symbolic and meaningful work they have ever done. And that may be completely lost on me. Sorry, I’m rather dense. I’m not very interested in theoretical analysis of art.
Because of or despite their intent, I may perceive something fresh and creative in the image. Something that attaches to something in me to strike a spark that might ignite a fire. It may have nothing to do with the artist’s intent. But it is my valuable takeaway.
Artistic value is a difficult concept. But I am more an artist than a viewer. It is more important to me to develop my own creative eye than to become a more knowledgeable viewer.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
It could be mine
I love those rare times when an artist’s image sparks excitement in me. But sometimes there are golden events when my own image does that.
I am not being egotistical. Honestly, I take a lot of bad images. Occasionally there are some pretty good images, but only rarely does one take my breath away. Often, I do not recognize it at the moment. Most often when I am shooting, I am experimenting with camera or subject motion or working a scene to try to refine my point of view or caught up in the flow or shooting. Later, when processing the images, it may get a “hum, that is kind of interesting.” It is usually after doing some color correction and processing that the image comes into its own and starts to reveal itself.
Sometimes there is a magical one that jumps out and grabs me. I get a chill and my breath catches. It is a rare one. It is like finding a treasure.
What an absolute joy to find that one of my own images thrills and excites me. Something I shot elevates me. Wow. That is a double bonus.
But whether it is one of our own images or something from another artist, great images elevate us. They make us see a new point of view on something. They give us new ideas. That makes us better artists.
March 4, 2026
Loud Whispers
Most images today are designed to explode, to attack, to shout. Are these the ones you remember? I usually don’t. I think the quiet ones, the loud whispers, have more staying power.
Attention
It is repeated endlessly and taken for true that we are in an attention economy. Media vendors make money by keeping people engaged on their site. So entertainment, doom-scrolling, click bait, fake news, short videos, and many other products and psychological tricks are used to hook us and keep us watching. I read that the average person now touches their phone 2,617 times a day. We spend over three hours daily on social media alone.
A byproduct of this attention manipulation is that it changes us mentally. Many people develop a short attention span. We must be continually stimulated to keep the dopamine flowing. Basically, the companies encourage us to regress to childhood.
Do not believe that the media companies care about art. It is just a commodity. They don’t care what they sell so long as it keeps eyeballs on their app.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Photography
This short attention span affects much photography today. Images are expected to have punch, to hook us immediately. It is believed that they should immediately reveal their meaning without requiring any work by the viewer.
Implicit in this is the assumption that a viewer will look at an image for about 1 – 2 seconds and then go on, looking for the next exciting image. The next dopamine hit. Doom scrolling until we go blind.
Even in a gallery or a museum, where it would be expected that people would have a higher level of appreciation, it is normal to watch people just strolling by the lines of art on the wall. Just idly considering some of them, but dismissive of most.
Now I will be quick to say that a lot of art, including photography, can be quickly dismissed. Things that try so hard to be “creative” that they forget to be good. If it is made by or for the short attention span generation, there is little staying power.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Impact
I believe that much of the “impact” that is promoted in the attention economy is false. It’s like eating candy. There is a quick sugar rush that feels good for a minute, but it fades quickly and there is no food value that is good for you. It is actually worse for you than skipping it completely.
The dramatic, over saturated sunset is pretty, but there is little to get from it. The classic landscape image is pretty, but it is just another wide angle shot from the same viewpoint everybody stops at. Portraits tend to be either selfies or would-be fashion shots that tend toward creepy.
Most of these are easily forgettable. A few minutes later we don’t even recall anything about them.
I guess the question is was it OK to put it out there just to get a few “likes”, or did you want people to engage with your image? That is a very personal question. I can’t claim there is a universal right or wrong answer.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
What stays
I have noticed, over the years, that many of my images are “nice” and people like them, but only a few leave a lasting impression on me. It would be nice to be able to give a definitive description of what makes one have staying power, but I cannot.
Since I cannot define it, I cannot reproduce it on demand. Often, I do not recognize these images immediately. It is not uncommon for the images that excited me when I was taking them to not be ones that had this staying power. It may even be that some of these long term keepers are on the edge of being culled out during editing. Sometimes, though, something pulls at my subconscious, and I keep it until I can figure out how I feel.
It may be days or weeks in coming, but eventually I have a mini-epiphany and recognize that there is something significant there calling to me. Or perhaps I must work with the image for a while. Crop it, change it around some, maybe see it in black & white. But at some point, a new understanding may emerge. It changes magically from a picture I guess I will keep to something I really like.
That is like finding a buried treasure.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Quiet
I said I can’t define what makes one of these images, but one thing I can identify as a frequent characteristic is that they are quiet images. They don’t shout for attention. They don’t jump up and scream “look at me!”
Instead, they are often more reserved, almost shy. These are the ones that whisper instead of shout. These are the loud whispers. They quietly have something to say, and they know it. It is there to see, if the viewer takes the time to look for a while. The reward will come through investing the time and attention to appreciate it. I think that is the side of the attention economy I prefer.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Out of the mainstream
So, maybe it is true that the attention economy. has completely taken over photography. Perhaps most people expect every image to jump up and shout and bare all in 1 second.
I am old and out of touch. I still have this notion that a photograph must be well crafted and thoughtful. That it should be something you want to keep coming back to. You want to spend time with it and reflect on the subtle interest and meanings you find. These are the ones I call a loud whisper.
So, I will continue to shoot a lot, to experiment freely, and to try to think fresh about my subjects. Occasionally I will discover one of these quiet gems. I will continue to go along my own path of obscurity, but content in the joy and satisfaction my work brings me. And it does. Sometimes the whisper becomes a shout.
February 25, 2026