joy | The Inner Path of Photography

August 18, 2009

Photographer’s Anxiety: Making choices

Today I finally have a whole afternoon that I can print photos. I scheduled it that way, and have been looking forward to it, particularly because a group of my photographer friends are coming over tonight to share our work.

“This will be great!” I thought, “I’ll have so many (wonderful, of course) images to show!”

Well.

I’ve been sitting here for the last 45 minutes, browsing through photo shoots with hundreds of images, trying to decide which ones to print.

And feeling totally anxious, truly, physically anxious…my chest tight, hard to breathe, body tense.

What’s that about?! This is supposed to be fun!

I’m looking…looking…trying to choose…

I have photos from Martha’s Vineyard in June, photos from my brother’s visit and our trip to Galveston in July, photos from my niece and family’s visit to my mother’s in Connecticut. Photos from my latest move, images of my latest storage home :), images from the first day I moved into this beautiful housesit, squirrel images, rain images……aaaack!!

And I want to print them all…RIGHT NOW.

But I can’t print them all this afternoon. Why not? Because I’m not just printing snapshots, I’m printing fine art prints. Which involves making light and color decisions, choosing the best image among similar ones, making paper decisions, trying out prints, seeing what works best, coming up with the ultimate version that makes me happy.

And that takes time. And now I’m already running out of it. And I feel like I have to choose “the most important” images in order to use my time well. Plus, ok, honestly, I want to have something wonderful to show my friends tonight.

What else? Ahem…a little deeper: There’s a whole emotional piece here, the proverbial elephant in the room.

I can’t decide whether I want to go the family portraits route and get into that emotional connection, go the landscape direction and be in expanded ocean feeling, or go play with artsy documentation of the moving transition I’ve been making.

They all sound good! They’re all different feelings! I want them all! Now!

And any one of those directions also has the potential to make me feel…conflicted. Not as talented as I’d like to be. Bored. Wishing my life were different.

Crazy-making, right? No wonder artists get such a reputation for being neurotic! I guess we are 🙂

But “neurotic” in a good way.

I like my standards of excellence. I like seeing that I have many choices of artistic direction.

I like the feeling of creation and finally getting into the flow and seeing magic happen as the photos emerge on paper.

And I realize that there’s also the flip side of the creative process: the resistance, the fear of failure, the feeling that it must come out right as soon as possible, the not wanting to “waste” time even though you know that “wasting” time is actually part of the process.

The wanting to have it all, express it all, share the urgency of feeling/seeing all of this beauty and spirit with others, yet knowing that others may not appreciate it.

Hmm, another life theme as well as a creative challenge. Wanting to do it all, resisting making choices, wanting to know the “right” one, afraid of wasting time. Wanting others to appreciate my efforts. Forgetting that my life’s path is not a rational, straight line, and that any choice will make things unfold, and the adventure will continue.

Enough! Here’s what I’m going to do.

Stop writing this blog.

Embrace my anxiety and delight in my artist’s dilemma (this anxiety must mean I’m a true artist, right? 🙂

Go in the kitchen and eat lunch.

And return ready…

…to be an amazing photographer, in the flow, listening to my inner knowing.

Ready to make some choices, let go of perfectionism, see what my spirit finds to play with, find the magic, and enjoy the process.

Ready to share the outcome, whatever it may be, with others.

Stay tuned…

July 29, 2009

Impermanence and the photographer’s experience

“Mr. Cunningham often spoke and wrote movingly about the nature of dance and would laugh about its maddening impermanence. “You have to love dancing to stick to it,” he once wrote. “It gives you nothing back, no manuscripts to store away, no paintings to show on walls and maybe hang in museums, no poems to be printed and sold, nothing but that single fleeting moment when you feel alive.”

(Quote from NY Times, Alistair Macaulay, “Merce Cunningham, Dance Visionary, Dies,” July 27, 2009)
(Bolding added by Heidi)

Yes, this is how I feel in the middle of shooting photographs, when all comes together, no mind, no planning, just being…me and the camera and all around me as one…and that is why I feel alive after a photo shoot, whether it be commercial, personal work, or casual family and friends.
Wouldn’t our lives be much better also if we could transfer this experience to each moment of our day…

Those who practice Buddhism are already aware of this approach to life…but one doesn’t have to be a Buddhist in order to live in this manner. The act of taking photographs is a spiritual practice in itself, as one connects with inner resonance and truth, and expresses it in the outer finished photograph.

The essence of shooting is an immersion in the joy of impermanence….where nothing else matters but now…and now…and now…timelessness and total feeling alive at the same moment.

July 12, 2009

Everyone needs music…

Everyone needs good music to accompany them as they print photos, edit, or decide who to send their newest photos to. I miss my darkroom…that was one of the finest times, working in near blackness, breath held with anticipation then joy as I watch images magically appear in the chemistry, the sound of my favorite tunes enveloping me.

So now that I’m working more with digital, it’s been a challenge to recreate that magical feeling of total immersement in the creative space. Working late at night seems to help for me….all is quiet, lights are low, darkness surrounds, and my speakers resonate with soul. The tactile, sensuous part of feeling the paper, smelling the chemistry, hearing the rush of the water in the wash tray is missing…but the satisfaction of discovering wonderful images I didn’t know I had shot, or (hoped that I had) still hits me deliciously, uplifts my inner being and gives me that addictive rush.

My spirit soars. All is right with the world.

So….here are my latest favorite radio streaming sites that get me “in the zone”….

What are yours?

MVY radio, Martha’s Vineyard and the World

WFUV 90.7 FM, Public Radio from Fordham University in New York City

Progressive Radio for Long Island – WEHM 96.9 FM

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May 10, 2009

Take the Top Off Your Convertible!

I took the top off my convertible last weekend. And the earth moved.

Yes, yes, thank you, jokesters for your insight: The earth only appeared to be moving as I zipped along at 70 mph up Texas Highway 290, on my way to see the bluebonnets. Everyone knows it was really the car that was moving.

But of course I’m not talking about the earth or the car. As you might expect, I’m describing an inner experience: a major shift in my spirit and body.

The top off my convertible, my car flying down the road, I glowed with happiness and light, feeling a blast of freedom, potential, and reconnection to the joy of life.

The experience was so simple, so easy, and felt so good.

“Why”, I asked myself, hair flying, heart uplifted, happily gunning my car and feeling its power, “did it take me so long to do this?!”

It had been five years since I took the top off my convertible. And from a practical perspective, I know what took me so long.

I have a 1978, two-seater Mercedes, which in winter looks like a normal classic car with a hard top. But what many don’t know is this: Lift off the hard top and voila!: Instant convertible.

The problem is the hidden challenge: The top is very heavy, requires two people to lift it, and needs a garage or other secure place to store it. Which, for a person who has lived in 16 places over the last 5 years and currently lives in an 800 square foot apartment with no garage, hasn’t allowed for much top popping.

Except…Except…blame it on a recent comment by a friend cum spiritual teacher:

The comment: “You have it all right now.”
The translation: You have everything you need to be happy right now, in your current circumstances, whatever they may be. (A basic teaching of many spiritual practices)

Me, driving home: How would that change my life, (I mused), if I really believed that?
How might I be limiting my life right now, without even realizing it?

And then the invitation came from a fellow member of my photography group: To come to her ranch in the country outside Houston to enjoy and photograph the sea of bluebonnet fields, so stunning in Texas at spring time.

I remembered the first time I saw Texas bluebonnets. A friend surprised me by picking me up in his little Triumph convertible, the top down.

“You must see bluebonnet country in a convertible,” he said. “There’s nothing like the sight, and smell, and pure sensuousness of the experience.” (He was right.)

I had to live that ultimate bluebonnet experience again. And here I was with a convertible! Almost forgotten, overshadowed by more recent identities as mini-moving van, New Mexico touring car, and ongoing restoration project, I knew there was still a convertible in the heart of that car.

I thought of my friend’s comment. Hmm, all I needed was right here. OK, then all I had to do was find the other supportive pieces: someone to help me take off the top, and a place to store it.

I didn’t worry about finding someone to help me with the top; that usually wasn’t a problem. It’s the “No place to store it” belief that usually stopped me cold.

This time, however, I intensely wanted my convertible in the bluebonnets. I forced myself to push harder. What other options did I have?

I thought about a friend’s pool room. I considered my mechanic’s place. I entertained the idea of asking my neighbor, who used his second bedroom as a storage room.

As I ran through ideas, I realized that it wasn’t just the lack of a storage place that had stopped me before. I was also uncomfortable asking for a favor, possibly imposing on someone who could provide that for me.

But the day was too beautiful, the urge for freedom too strong. And after all, what are friends for?

I picked up the phone and called a friend with a garage. He said yes immediately.

I was overjoyed…and amazed. Were the joys of life really this simple?

So last weekend you would have seen me on the perfect day, ecstatically zooming along the highway (not as fast on back roads :), the sun and air on my skin, filled with the feeling of release and freedom that every convertible and fast car lover understands.

I experienced fields and fields of bluebonnets, set my camera soul free, and ended the perfect day with a beautiful sunset and an evening of food and wine with my wonderful hosts and photographer friends.

I’m intrigued now with other beliefs in my life that might be keeping me from enjoying the here and now. What else do I have that I’m not taking advantage of?

“Take the top off! Drive on, girl”, I say.

(Click here to see me in my convertible and some bluebonnet pictures…)

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