Create Without Creating Something New

Photography has become stuck in an endless negative cycle of expectations. Everywhere you turn, there’s someone preaching about originality, creativity, and pushing boundaries. But here’s the truth: none of that really matters.

Chapel within the Abbey of Fontevraud

I see countless photographers, on youtube, in forums (fora?), who torture themselves trying to be different, attempting to forge new paths where none are needed. They scroll through Instagram, drowning in anxiety because their work “looks like everyone else’s.” They agonize over equipment choices, wondering if their gear is holding back their “creative vision.”

But what if we’ve been asking the wrong questions all along?

Your photography doesn’t need to be different. There’s profound joy in capturing the same sunset from your backyard a hundred times, each one a quiet moment of peace in your day, a memory of your feelings while you pulled the trigger, the documentation of an instant in your life. There’s nothing wrong with photographing your cat in the same patch of window light every morning, delighting in how the whiskers catch the sun just so.

The internet is full of voices demanding innovation, usually from those who mistake novelty for meaning. You can usually identify them easily: they call themselves “content creators”. They’ll tell you that you’re stagnating if you’re not constantly evolving, that you’re wasting your time if you’re not pushing boundaries. They’re wrong.

Consider the photographer who uses an old Holga camera, creating dreamy, imperfect images that would make a pixel-peeper cringe. They’re not advancing the art form. They’re not breaking new ground. But they’re happy, and their photos bring them joy. Isn’t that enough?

Or think about the parent who takes technically identical photos of their child every month, building a collection that means everything to them and nothing to the art world. These images won’t hang in galleries or win awards, but they capture something precious and personal. It’s valuable to them.

The truth is, unless you’re paying your bills with your photography, you don’t owe anyone anything. Not creativity. Not technical excellence. Not artistic growth. Your photography can be as simple or as repetitive as you want it to be. It can be technically flawed, compositionally basic, or completely derivative, and still be perfectly worthwhile. If you like simple things that only have meaning to yourself, then do that.  

Creativity won’t give you anything. It’s a social convention. It has no meaning in itself and doesn’t exist in isolation. It’s a side effect of letting others decide what is the direction of your activity for you. It’s not needed for your enjoyment.

Here’s what matters: the quiet satisfaction of pressing the shutter. The simple pleasure of holding your camera. The joy of looking at images that speak to you, even if they mean nothing to anyone else. The satisfaction of having created something. Your photography doesn’t have to be evocative to anyone other than you. Ignore the algorithm. Ignore comments. Ignore what others say about your photography. It is not their photography; it’s yours.

The worst part is that trying to be always creative can only result in unhappiness: if you do something new nobody has done before, it’s no longer creative because you’ve done it and others will copy it. You need to move on and invent something else. There is no time for enjoyment in the pursuit of creativity. It’s a vicious circle of stress, anxiety, and disappointment.

So go ahead. Take those “cliché” sunset photos. Shoot with that cheap lens that vignettes too much. Keep capturing the same scene that makes your heart sing. Ignore the voices telling you to be different, to be better, to be more.

Your photography doesn’t need to be creative. It just needs to be yours.

#Photography #Opinion #PhotographyTheory #Theory

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