Ed Schlotzhauer

An artists journey

Tag: psychology

Do You Like It?
Do you like your art? Are you shooting what someone else wants or for yourself? Do you hang it on your own wall and proudly show people? I believe that answering the question “do you like it” is very important.
A marketplace
Some people view the world as a marketplace. The only thing that matters is what sells. To sell, it must meet the current definition of popularity and be “trending”. That implies our personal likes do not matter compared to what is selling.
I realize there are reasons an artist may feel like this. Perhaps you have committed to photography as your livelihood. You will, of necessity, have to follow the trends and give the market what it wants. Unless you are in a position of setting the trends, but very few of us are.
The second reason is based on your personality type. If you are extroverted, you probably have a strong tendency to get your rewards externally. You want the validation of other people, and that comes from likes and awards and sales. These are external validations of our work. Inward satisfaction counts for much less.
I have a friend like that. Great guy. He has been a close friend for many years. But he cannot be convinced that anything he creates is worth more than what someone will pay for it. Or more than the lowest price he can find advertised anywhere. Because of this, he completely discounts his artistic work, because he does not think he could sell it for much, therefore it is not worth much.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Intensely personal
My art is intensely personal. Except in very rare cases where I am doing work for other people, my subjects, my treatment, my style and presentation are all selected by me and for my pleasure.
My art reflects what I am seeing and feeling. The themes running through my life. It is influenced by my artistic taste and personal values. Printing an image and hanging it for others to see is an intimate act. It is giving others a glimpse of who I am, what I feel and see. Speaking as an introvert, that is very personal and terrifying.
What if people do not like it? That can hurt. It used to hurt more than it does now. At best, now, I may dialog with them to try to understand what their reaction is and why they don’t like it. At worst, I may change the subject and try not to dislike them despite their terrible judgment ☺.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
What if you don’t like it?
But what if you don’t like your work? I have seen it happen. People get bored with their work. They feel burned out. They may lose interest in the subjects they shoot. The creative spark and joy are gone. They may give up photography completely or only shoot selfies.
Or perhaps you feel trapped. You are getting likes and good feedback from social media, but your real interest has moved on and you fear that if you show the work you like now, it will lose your audience. Success can be a trap if we are not confident enough to go our own way.
Or maybe what you see when you review your images is far short of what you felt or imagined when you shot it. You just don’t know how to improve.
So, what if you don’t like your work? It is easy to get discouraged and even give up photography.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
I encourage you to clarify your goals. That should help sort out the objectives.
Unless you are a commercial photographer shooting for clients, no one other than you should be able to dictate your subjects or your vision of how to shoot. Does your camera club have a very narrow criteria for what is acceptable? Drop them. I did. Years ago. It was liberating.
Are you afraid of losing your social media followers? But answer this, how much money are you making from them? I’m serious. You like the dopamine hit of likes, but what are they worth in tangible terms? Trust your creative instinct more than the internet. Take a risk and show the work that pleases you. If your followers leave, that’s OK. Find new ones that appreciate the art you want to do.
If people look at your images and say, “that’s weird” or even, “I don’t like it”, so what? They are welcome to like or buy whatever makes them happy. But our purpose for creating images should be to make us happy.
He may be unpopular these days, but I think Bill Cosby was correct when he said, “I don’t know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everybody.”
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Do you love it?
My point is that our art is our art. Unless we are working for hire, we ultimately do not have to please anyone other than ourselves. We should love our art. It should be a source of pride and satisfaction. An expression of our creativity.
Whatever subject and presentation you choose should be the thing that makes you the happiest. Go through your portfolio and honestly evaluate its impact on you. If you do not love what you see, change.
I can’t criticize your choice. But I hope you go deeper than just pretty pictures that get likes on Facebook. This is your creative outlet. It should feed your soul. It lets your viewers – and you – have a peek at what is deep inside you.
I know an artist who seems to be a happy, bubbly lady, but who does art that is dark and brooding and mysterious. Does that mean she has some deep mental problems? No. It just means that is what comes from her creative spirit and makes her happy. The same way that reading crime novels does not make you a potential killer.
Be passionate about your art. Fall in love with it. Be proud of it, whatever it is. Make prints and display them for people to see. Never be apologetic. Unless they are not well executed. Then work to improve. But well executed or not, like your work.
It is uniquely you. I sincerely hope you love your art as much as I love mine.
August 27, 2025
Switch On
What engages your creativity? What gets you up from the chair and out the door shooting. I have discovered I have a trigger to switch me on, and it is so simple I barely recognized it.
Need to shoot
I think many of us who shoot for the joy and the creativity of it tend to stay in a mindful state. When I am driving or riding somewhere it seems I am often looking at everything passing with a view to framing and composing shots. Mentally, I click off a lot that I wish I could see.
At this stage of my life journey, I feel a need to shoot. To capture what I see, and to bring some new creativity to it. It is a frustration to me to see interesting scenes and not be able to shoot them. But I am not always doing it and moving and in the flow.
Sometimes there is a kind of inertia holding me back. There are times I feel too busy, or my thoughts are on something else. This is part of life and often unavoidable, but sometimes it is just a kind of procrastination. I’m not feeling in the “mood”. At those times when I could and should be thinking photography, I sometimes must kick-start myself to begin shooting.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Permission to shoot
I have discovered that I sometimes need to do something to motivate myself. As I write this, it is 93°F out, on the way to 103°F. That saps my energy.
I need a way to increase my desire to shoot to the point it overcomes my inertia or dislike of the weather or the time involved or whatever it is that is holding me back.
One simple technique I have learned is simply to pick up my camera. Sounds silly and too easy to be of use. But it often works on me.
I haven’t done any deep psychological analysis on myself, but I believe holding the camera – or even the camera bag – gives me permission to take pictures. The weight of the physical object is real and compelling. I am familiar with it and comfortable with it. I like the way it feels in my hands. We have history of doing good work together. Something is awakened and barriers are set aside.
With a camera in hand, or even in my camera bag, I am a photographer. An artist. Photographers are expected to take pictures. I should be out shooting. It becomes the easier path.
Wherever I am, on a city street, in an airport, driving down the road, I should feel completely secure and justified taking pictures. If I am looking foolish staring at something other people do not see, that is OK. They are not artists, or at least, they’re not me.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Nothing interesting
I am mostly over worrying about what other people think. What matters is the art I can create.
A favorite story of mine is a time I was on a trail near where I live. I think I had my tripod set up to shoot a tree by a river. A woman walking by stopped to see what I was shooting and pronounced “I see nothing interesting here”.
I almost burst out laughing. For her to dismiss my vision just because she could not envision what I was seeing seemed ridiculous. That helped me to be much less concerned about other people’s opinion when I am pursuing an image. Rather than shaming me, it reinforced my independent streak.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
When I pick up my camera a switch turns on and I am now in a focused mode of seeing. What people think, fear of looking silly, or of calling attention to myself (a nightmare for an introvert) no longer matters. Of course, I will not be rude or offensive. That is not my nature. But within reason, I will do what I feel compelled to do.
Creativity
Just picking up my camera does not mean I am in a super creative zone. I may have to start shooting a while to get the energy flowing enough to fully engage my mind. But I find that just a few shutter clicks somehow releases most of the chains binding my brain and I relax and start flowing.
As my inspiration, Jay Maisel, said: If you are out there shooting, things will happen for you. If you’re not out there, you’ll only hear about it. I consider that whatever trick I use to get me motivated to start framing images and pressing the shutter release is worth it. Then things start happening.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Pick it up
So, when I am not in the “mood” for photography, just picking up my camera will usually jolt me out of my lethargy. Somehow, it signals me to switch on and get into seeing images.
To follow up on where I started earlier, I reluctantly put on my camera bag and went out in the heat. We had a nice walk and even shot a few images. It was not as bad as I expected, and I’m glad I made myself get out. To be prudent, I did shave a few miles off my normal outing and took extra water.
Do you have a trick you use to get going when you don’t feel like doing it? Picking up my camera is my signal to switch on. What about you?
August 6, 2025
Permission to Be an Artist
There is only one thing stopping us from being an artist. We need to give ourselves permission to call ourself an artist. No one else has the authority to do it.
Who regulates “art”?
Who regulates art? Maybe that seems like a silly question, but many of us are hesitant to call ourselves an artist because we have not been officially designated one by some standards board. We haven’t received our certificate.
I don’t know if it is good or bad, but that standards board does not exist. The certificate does not exist, and if it did, it would be meaningless.
Many people and organizations want us to think they are the keepers of the purity of the arts. But they only have authority as far as they can convince other people they have it.
The gatekeepers, whether they are large galleries, or internet influencers, or art schools, or even your local camera club, have no authority to control what is art and who gets to do it.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Who is keeping you from being an artist?
I believe many of us are afraid to consider ourselves an artist for fear that someone will come and say no, we are not qualified. We are afraid we would be publicly humiliated and denounced as not good enough. We did not pass the qualifications. By calling ourselves an artist, we might fear we are elevating ourself to a higher plateau.
Well, we are. But that is a good thing.
This is art, not brain surgery. We do not have to go to school for 12 years then do years of apprenticeship before going before a review board to grant us a license. I’m glad they train doctors like that, but it is not a good model for artists.
The best definition I can remember of art is that anything done as art, is art. So, if you intended that image to be art rather than just a selfie or record shot, then it is art. No one can say it is not.
That no way says that if you intended it to be art then it is great art. Its quality depends on many factors, including your skill and maturity. We learn and improve all our life.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Photographer or artist?
So, when someone asks you what you do, what is your answer? Are you an artist, or a photographer, or do you respond with something vague like, “oh, I like to take pictures”? How you answer and view yourself is your business. But what is keeping you from considering yourself an artist?
I recognize that if we announce ourselves as an artist, we are claiming greater mastery. We present our work and ourselves in a different light. In a different way. Those of us who are introverts get nervous about that. We do not seek attention,
The reality, as I see it, is that it is not about ego or skill level. If we believe we are doing art, we should confidently assert to the world around us that we are artists.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Prove it
Some people are born salesmen. They try to talk the talk without learning how to walk the walk. I do not think that is the case for you who read this. You understand that you must prove what you can do, who you are as an artist. And that is what we do with every image we show the world. It is just as important, if not more important, to prove it to ourselves.
How do we do that?
John Paul Caponigro said “Singular images prove your craft. A body of work proves your artistry.” I think there is wisdom in that.
When you go through your catalog critically, do you find images you would show anyone, anywhere without fear of ridicule? If you find a few, great. You are learning the craft and starting to produce interesting work.
Have you, or can you, put together one or more projects around a theme? A good project would have 10-20 excellent images showing cohesiveness and consistency. This demonstrates your ability to create a body of work.
A single great image may be luck. A good body of work proves you can repeat it. That you are can create regularly and to a consistently high level of quality.
This is certainly not the only way to prove your mastery, but it is a good way. Give it a try and you might surprise yourself.
If you have proved to yourself that you are an artist, do not be afraid to take the label for yourself. Say it proudly. You have given yourself permission. You are the only one who matters.
July 23, 2025
Confidence
I believe one of the things we develop as we mature as photographers is confidence. Not arrogance, but certainty in who we are and what we want to do.
Introvert
I’m an introvert. I suspect many of you are, too. Introversion seems to be strong in artists. After all, what we do is not really about social events or winning contests or getting to praise ourselves. If you seek those things, you are probably an extrovert and you do art for entirely different reasons than I do.
As an introvert, you wouldn’t think at first that confidence is one of the traits I would claim. But confidence comes from competence. We know we can do what we need to do. We know what we like and when we find it, we are confident we can deal with it well.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Arrogance
This is not arrogance. Arrogance gets into hubris and self-importance. Confidence is the simple assurance that I can do it. Now, the “it” may be different for different people. For me, it is that I know that when I see a scene I want, I can photograph it in a way that will make an image I will be proud of. That does not mean I know how to make that image well known and sought after in galleries. That is a whole different skill set.
But our confidence is arrogance if we believe we are too good to learn how to improve. We should always listen to criticism. And be our own worst critic. Learning and practicing and trying to improve are part of our life-long growth.
Confidence also lets me stay away from things I know I would not like or would be bad at. For example, if, for some strange reason, you came and asked me to shoot a wedding, I would turn you down. Even if the money is great, I know from experience that I would hate it. I do not enjoy the pressure of a bride’s expectations and performing to someone else’s shot list. And I really do not enjoy trying to pose people and make them seem like they’re having fun.
But if you want me for a second shooter to get candid shots, we might do a deal. I love shooting spontaneous moments, and I’m often pleased with the results. Studying people and anticipating a good moment is fun for me.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Not technical skill
The confidence I am talking about is not mainly in the technical side of photography. I have done photography for many years, and I am introspective enough to learn from my mistakes. Technical skill should be a given for a serious photographer.
You won’t find me “chimping” a lot, checking the back of the camera to see if I got the shot. I may check to verify I nailed the focus and placed moving elements in the right position or got the right blur if it is a slow shutter speed. But the technology of making a properly exposed image is rather straightforward.
I urge you to practice to the point where you are confident in your ability to get what you visualize. It makes me wonder when I hear photographers asking a workshop leader or another photographer what exposure they used. That is basic craftsmanship that we must put in the reps to learn.
Besides, our cameras do a wonderful job of helping us out. With great auto focus, including eye tracking, with powerful computers analyzing the overall exposure, even giving us real-time histograms, with constantly improving sensors with great dynamic range, it gets easier all the time. I remember when shooting film, there was always the fear of not exposing correctly. Now, with digital systems, our technical confidence should be high.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Vision
Our vision shapes our work, and it is unique to each of us. Confidence bolsters our creativity. We see connections and possibilities. Scenes are recognized intuitively as aligning with our vision. Our confidence encourages our creativity to express new insights, because we know we can do that new thing we have never tried.
We are self-assured to go for it, to stretch for that artistic vision just out of reach.
And even if we could not quite reach far enough this time, we know we did the right thing by trying and next time we will be even better equipped to succeed. Our confidence is built by failure, because each failure brings us closer to our goal.
We take in information, blend it in our brains, and a random spark ignites some sort of alchemy. Whole new things emerge. We’re almost spectators in the process. But confidence tells us what is happening, that we have seen it before, and we will go with it to see where it leads us. Confidently.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Independence
Despite its potential for good, more often social media is a force for conformity. When we are unsure of ourselves and rely on likes or comments for feedback on our worth, we are channeled to do work like everything else we see there.
The “same as everybody else” images get likes. But the fresh, possibly genre-bending new things are voted down. Until a well-known influencer picks it up and starts promoting it. Then, suddenly, everyone is doing it.
Our confidence in our own vision and ability should help us break out of this stifling cycle. If you’re out shooting with 10 other photographers and you see something they ignore, will you shoot it? I hope so. That is confidence in yourself.
Confidence helps give us independence. We do not have to follow what someone else thinks. We do not have to do work that is mostly like what an “authority” thinks is good.
It is a wonderful freedom to set our own standards and select our own subjects and treatments. This allows us to make the art we can bring to the world, not someone else’s.
Color outside the lines
So confidently color outside the lines. Or inside, if that is what you prefer. Or don’t do that paint-by-numbers sheet at all. Go find your own blank frame to fill in.
Outside, inside, saturated or black & white, tack sharp or blurred, rule of thirds or not, shoot at the golden hour or at noon. Find what you are called to do right now and confidently do it.
No one can tell you what you must like. No one can tell you what picture you must make. That should come solely from within you. Have confidence in yur vision and ability.
July 16, 2025
Shoot It Now
Shoot it now. If you see it and like it, shoot it. It may not be the same later. This moment is the most control you have.
Conditions change
The world about us is in constant motion and change. The light, the weather, what people are doing, how things are arranged, even our attitude. Things are different all the time. We must give ourselves permission to take advantage of what we find when it is there and right.
It is too easy to say: “that’s nice. I will plan to come back and shoot that scene when I have time.” But we’re not in control of events. When it is convenient for us, everything else may be wrong. My experience is, it likely will be so different that we will lose interest in it.
Or have you found conditions to change quickly, but you were able to take advantage of it? Maybe you were at a location you like, trying to make a good landscape. Except conditions were not helpful. Perhaps it was cloudy and rainy, and the mood was not what you hoped for. But you stayed there seeing what you could do, and, for a moment, the clouds broke. A golden sunbeam poured through and spotlighted the subject you wanted. It was magic.
The whole look and feel of the scene changed in a blink. And then it was gone in seconds. You had to shoot it right then, in those few seconds when conditions were optimum.
When we find a subject we like in conditions we like, we better shoot it right then. It may never be the same.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Nothing is permanent
When something has been there for a long time, it is easy to take the attitude that it will be there forever, so we can shoot it at our leisure or when conditions are spectacular.
Maybe. But maybe not. We do not control circumstances and other people’s decisions.
This image at the top of this article of the car on a roof is an example. I shot it at various angles and conditions for years. It was always there as an exercise to work on. Until one day it was gone. I didn’t pass by the location for a couple of days and next time, the car was no longer there. I can never shoot it again. All the future shots I had envisioned for finding certain weather or light are useless now. I have to be content with the ones I have, that I took the time and effort to shoot when I had the chance.
In the same way, that interesting railroad track fragment in the next picture was evocative to me and a metaphor for several ideas. But it does not exist anymore. It was removed
Another example, at the other extreme, last week we had a heavy rain – rare here. I walked a new trail the next day and there were a couple of places where dirt had washed across the path, making interesting patterns. That is something that interests me, so I shot a couple of frames and went on, intending to come back and work it some more after I thought about it. I only walked down, maybe, a half mile and came back, and a city worker was sweeping the path. Gone.
Shoot it now.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Now is the moment
A good picture is a dance of many conditions. If everything comes together ideally, we have a much better opportunity to get an image we want.
Likewise, when we have a mindful attitude and are open to seeing things, we often encounter things we did not deliberately go looking for. And when the conditions and our observation come together at the right time and place, we discover magic.
But those magical moments are transitory. Light changes, people move, trees are cut down, even building are torn down. Floods change things. Forest fires alter the landscape. Have you ever gone back to a spot you really liked after a couple of years and found it a condo development now?
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Gone forever
It’s like in a conversation where you had something important to say, but as you were waiting for the right opportunity, the direction changes and it would no longer be relevant. The opportunity was there, but you didn’t take it and now it is gone forever.
One of my heroes, Jay Maisel, said “Always shoot it now. It won’t be the same when you go back.” I have found this to be true too often.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
To be honest, I am a mindful explorer. I follow some of Jay’s other advice to “go out empty”. That is, I usually do not have specific shots in mind. Instead, I am mindful of interesting things I encounter as I wander. This may not be your style. I understand. Photography, like all art, is intensely personal.
But for me these days, I try to shoot it now. If possible and it’s not too disruptive, I stop to shoot it when I see something I feel is worthwhile. Apologizing for being late feels better than missing the shot. I have a lot of regrets of shots I didn’t stop to take when I had the chance.
That realization of the possible fleeting nature of our subjects drives me to act outside my comfort zone. My “what if” is engaged all the time.
July 9, 2025