Being In the Moment

I think that one of the great things about photography is that it is so accessible. It seems, particularly these days, that just about anyone can, in the act of making a photograph, do something that has never been done before.

There was a time when my sole intention in photography was to do just that. I must admit that I found this very daunting. How does one take original, meaningful pictures when so many others have created so many great works?

Often I was told that to be a true photographer I had to do original work. But it seemed that everything I was attempting had been done before. Whether it was a landscape, a still life, a street scene, a social or political moment, it seemed that somewhere, sometime, someone had done it before.

It was no small revelation when I realized that no two moments in time are exactly the same, no two situations, no two personalities and indeed, no two viewpoints exactly coincide. Often I would go out shooting pictures with friends only to find that no matter where we went and what we shot, our pictures were always different.

This realization gave me the license to be myself and to hold to the notion that the act of making a photograph is so loaded with potential that there is always a chance to make a really powerful and perhaps even great, picture. As a matter of fact, I came to realize that the only time that I could guarantee that I couldn't possibly make a great picture is when I wasn't actually shooting.

We all know that in photography, subject is dominant, that the subject photographed is such a powerful element that it is often difficult to see beyond it. But we also know that the subject itself, regardless of its uniqueness, is not what makes a picture great. It is how the subject is rendered that is really important.

In photography, the difference between greatness and mundanity can be measured in millimeters and milliseconds. A slight shift to the left or to the right, up or down, a tiny lag in releasing the shutter, can result in absolute failure. But when we get it right, when everything works, when the lines of force coincide, when our timing, our viewpoint, our sense of rightness all come together, then photography rises on its axis, becoming the great and wonderful medium that stops the movement of time to reveal universal truth. Therein lies the key.

Photography I suggest, is not about achieving greatness. The whole notion of being a great photographer is absurd, for photography is a way of speaking visually. It is a way of saying things that often cannot be spoken. Photography is a way of looking, of assigning significance and attributing meaning.

I also suggest that often we don't really know what we think about a thing until we photograph it. The very act of seeing within the frame forces us to confront, and hopefully think about what is happening and what we are trying to say in the picture. Sometimes it is not that clear in our minds, we only know that there is something there. Sometimes the meaning of the picture is only seen when we make the print.

Our search for meaning is a personal quest, each of us making choices as we live our lives, always seeking, always evaluating. Some people give it up, not photographers I think.

For photographers, a picture can be part of the puzzle, a chance to make some sense of our lives. Our pictures are our milestones. Some acting as questions, fewer as answers, about what it means to be human at a particular time and in a particular place.

What's important is that we have the chance, to try to understand the world on our own terms, visually, and to share our findings with other souls. Who knows, we might find meaning in the search, satisfaction in the sharing.