I am almost embarrassed to admit that I have some Luddite in me. Who knew?

I fancy myself as someone who is quite enamored with technology. I may not understand all of the new stuff, but I’ve always been intrigued and open to learning about new advancements. Sort of an early adopter. Or so I thought. In the short time that I have been taking pictures, the pace of change in photographic technology has been astounding. I first picked up an SLR film camera about 5 years ago. I immersed myself with learning everything I could about the camera. I also did quite a bit of reading about the technology of making photographic film. For a couple years, there was nothing more exciting than picking up a fresh load of film. There were only two downsides to film—the cost of film and development.

A very good friend of mine, Dotch, started to encourage me to transition from film to digital several years ago–as I was buying more and more film bodies. I found just about every reason, excuse, and justification for not making the leap from film. I trotted out the tried-and-true purist speech about the authenticity, warmth and “soul” only found on film. I felt digital photography was cold. I even found articles that broke down the cost neutrality between film and digital. For a while, there was some validity to what I was saying, but as megapixels increased, the clarity of digital exploded. Save for Black & White, right? Ugh! Add to that, I was seemingly going away from, not toward, the trend to digital. I took a darkroom class, and reveled in spending hours in a dimly lit room.

I finally broke down in 2007, and I purchased a digital SLR before taking a vacation in Europe. Perhaps no surprise, almost all of my excuses and objections to digital photography were silenced. Where once I was incredibly conservative with my shutter, it felt liberating to capture as many images as could fit on my memory card. The reluctance to take more than 48-72 frames in a day disappeared almost immediately. I found myself shooting nearly 300 images a day. Figuring out what to do with all those images is where I found my nose pressed against the window into change, not quite ready to enter.

Post-processing was, and remains, a bit of a touchy subject for me. I can’t really speak in the past tense here, because most of the feelings I have about working in Photoshop, Aperture, Nikon Capture NX 2, etc, are very much in the present. I’ve reconciled that a film SLR and a digital SLR are, essentially, the same. Where I get tripped up is what happens after the image hits the sensor. I have slowly come to appreciate the power of post-processing programs, but still feel like a lot of the work people do with images on the computer is cheating. Let me be careful not use too broad of a brush here. I find some of the manipulations made to images amazing. But, let me be clear. I view the product of that manipulation as art more than I do a photo. (It could be argued that art and photography are one in the same, but hopefully you get my point.) Once a person starts to make significant changes to the original colors and introduces foreign objects into an image, it’s becomes, for all intents and purposes, a painting, lithograph or mixed-media presentation. Even though I am a mere babe in the world of photography, the purist part of me still feels like the challenge for any photographer is to get the shot right—in the camera, not on the computer.

Fast forward from 2004 to 2009. I shoot, almost exclusively, with digital now, and I am forced to handle my images with a post-processing program. For the last couple of years, I have been working with Google’s Picasa program. It provides pretty much everything I need. Some sharpening, shading, fill light, ability to warm or cool an image. There are number of other features, “gimmicky” stuff that I find fun, but don’t bother using. I am constantly urged by photographers and friends to start using Photoshop or some other program. Initially, I felt that everyone was sipping on the proverbial Kool-Aid. As I’ve challenged myself to break from this curiously stubborn purist photographer stance, I am starting to realize some of the benefits of using post-processing programs. Namely, shooting in RAW and benefitting from the adjustments that cannot be made in Picasa (yet). Let me add a little sidebar, that I’m somewhat frugal and frequently shudder at the prospect of dropping more and more coin on anything other than actual camera components. Picasa is comes at my favorite, low low price…FREE. Slowly and somewhat reluctantly, I’ve come to understand that, in the world of digital photography, the computer and software should be considered equipment just as much as the bodies and lenses.

The challenge, at this point, is allowing myself to get excited about the technological innovations in the photographic world while remaining true to what I love about photography—getting an incredible image through the lens. I am confident that things will shake out like they’re supposed to, and in a couple years I will get a good chuckle from this post. In the meantime, I expect to make the leap and purchase a post-processing software program. As with everything else, it will probably take me several months before I really start using the program because I have to read all the manuals. Have you seen the manuals for these programs? War and Peace looks like a brochure compared to these things.

For the record…I can’t lay claim to being so clever as to have come up with that witty title. It is the title of a very compelling video I saw a little over a year ago, and the subject matter made a lot of sense and helped me think about how to articulate my thoughts on the transformation taking place in photography. I would be remiss if I didn’t share it with you. (Notice the shifts that have taken place since the video was made – hint: MySpace.) Enjoy!

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I often listen to Carla (my wife) talk about Eckhart Tolle and The Power of Now. Being “in the now” is a maxim of living in the present—not being dogged by your past and not putting too much focus on what may happen in the future. While I respect her views and beliefs, the notion often gets a matter-of-fact shrug from me. It makes sense, but I, probably like so many people, have this nagging habit of looking forward or behind. However, the point of being in the present is starting to make much more sense. Just today, I clicked on the Daily Thought in my email inbox.

Most people rush after pleasure so fast that they rush right past it.
 

―Soren Kierkegaard

Wow. That’s it! That quote nailed it for me, and touches on precisely what I’m struggling with today. Allow me to build the story. Those who know me will appreciate, or at least be patient with, my tendency to be a bit long-winded. (It’s all about providing context.)

For some time, Carla had mentioned doing a photo shoot of some her food for a book project. She really wanted me to take the photos. It struck me that she was not interested in my taking the pictures solely because I’m her husband, but because she actually thinks my work is good.  Anyway, Carla invited a designer she’s working with and a friend, who is a photographer, to come over for the photo shoot. I was not familiar with the work of the photographer,  his background or experience. However, when he arrived, he lugged in a mountain of equipment and several camera bags. To be honest, it was intimidating. I have no practical experience with external lighting, let alone have an arsenal of equipment at my disposal with which to learn. The photographer was very gracious and frequently deferred to me for thoughts on composition and lighting. Nevertheless, I found myself shrinking a bit into the throws of self-doubt. What could I possibly offer someone who has all this equipment? Clearly, the amount of equipment is reflective of the overall skill, experience, and aptitude of a photographer. Right?

That’s exactly what had me a little unsettled yesterday, and it stayed in my head through night. Why was I intimated or overwhelmed with the photographer and his equipment? I have to believe it’s because he brought in all the trappings of what I feel that I need to be a “legitimate” photographer. In a word, I felt inadequate. I looked at the gear and many different cameras, though he only used one body and one lens. I only have two digital bodies and a hodgepodge of lenses. He had a big tripod with a nice head on it. I have a pretty basic tripod, not a nice Gitzo or Manfrotto.  Let’s not even get started on the lighting equipment. Overall, I had a sinking feeling of how far I have to go to be legit.

As I thought more about it, I first had to shake myself from the idea that I’m not a good photographer. I think I am. Secondly, and more importantly, I had to take a step back and think about not only where I want to go, but where I am—presently. The quote above really brought it home. I’ve been so focused, as I discussed in my last post, on the romantic notion of what I’d like to do, that I’m not focusing on…and enjoying…where I am today. I truly am at the beginning of my journey. I don’t think anyone would be expected to have a room full of gear just starting out. Nor would I, even after years of shooting, necessarily need all that equipment. It will really depend on what I want to do with my photography. I have to let that come to me, and not get saddled with what I don’t have.  I suspect this is not an isolated feeling, and many people pursuing a dream get in their own way by obsessing about where they should be and not appreciating the lessons gained along the way. This is where “being in my head” is a good thing, because I do question whether what I’m feeling makes sense. Fortunately, Carla is a good point of reference and sounding board. She created a business from scratch, and talks frequently about the balance between having a business plan and being open to where things may lead her.  She continues to navigate opportunities for growth while staying true to her personal and business values and sensibilities.

As for the shoot…at the end of the day, I think we both took some excellent shots. At times I felt a little nudged out by the other photographer and others in the room (quite unintentionally I’m sure), but it did not deter me from shooting images of Carla’s food. After reviewing all of the images, I think it became apparent I have a very particular photographic style. Carla commented later that my images are probably more artistic, in that I tend to focus on the beauty of an object. Unfortunately, though, that means I occasionally overlook the function of the item – in this case, her food. I’m learning how to capture her food in a way that is suited for publication, not just for wall hangings.  I think this was a good opportunity for me to think about the importance of being open. What I have in mind for my photography career (artistic images for exhibit and sale) may take a turn into something just as fulfilling (media, portraits, etc).

career, vision