I\u2019m pretty sure everyone has had both experiences over time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There are endless street photography videos that explain how to handle the hectic, how to plan ot react to things happening, and how to be prepared. These tend to drift toward hardware considerations very quickly (high ISO sensitivity, lots of megapixels for drastic cropping, fast lenses even though it\u2019s pretty pointless in the street unless you do portraits).<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But these to me discuss the wrong question. The real question is how do you handle what\u2019s happening in your mind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I\u2019ve been a software engineer for over 30 years (yes I\u2019m old). I\u2019ve had plenty of additional responsibilities on the way, but I still consider myself down with the foot soldiers, especially when it\u2019s needed when things go wrong. I\u2019m used to work in a special state of mind: deeply focused, unaware of outside distractions, no interaction with anyone, even forgetting to eat and sleep. When I was a kid, I\u2019d be up in my bedroom for entire weekends.<\/p>\n\n\n\n You often hear software engineers complain that interruptions pull them out of what they\u2019re doing, and it takes a long time to get back in (if at all). I remember sales droids not understanding what that meant and assuming that it was just a way for code monkeys to ignore them. After all, their stuff is more important than whatever we\u2019d do. I even had a t-shirt saying \u201cgo away or I replace you with a very small shell script\u201d and I\u2019d point at it when someone came to my door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi developed a theory in the 1970s. He studied people who reported deep enjoyment in their work: chess players, surgeons, rock climbers, composers. What they all described was that same state: complete absorption, loss of self-consciousness, distorted sense of time, the activity flowing by itself even when it was difficult. He called it Flow<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He identified a set of conditions that produce that state:<\/p>\n\n\n\n Photography is a perfect fit for all three.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When you\u2019re out shooting, the goals are part of the act itself: frame what you cant to capture, get the exposure right (or on modern cameras let them do the work), click. Each frame acts as a micro-goal. The feedback is also instant (assuming you shoot digital): look at the back of the screen and judge if that looks right or not. And the skill challenge is adjustable to what you want (e.g. shoot all manual if you want, wait for different conditions) so that it\u2019s exactly at the level you want.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But Flow is not guaranteed to happen. It\u2019s only a set of conditions that make it possible. You can satisfy all of them, and still never reach the state of Flow. Sometimes you\u2019re at the beach early in the morning, everything is quiet, you know exactly what you want, you have instant feedback on the camera, you\u2019ve done this dozens of time, but things don\u2019t click. Something is in the way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n That something is the difference between using photography as a tool for Flow, and using it as a tool for validation. If when you go out you\u2019re desperate to get a good photo out of your outing<\/a>, if what you want is to prove something to you or to the world, you turn your camera into a production device with targets and deliverables. And that device no longer helps you get into the Flow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n There\u2019s a tradition called Miksang Contemplative Photography, rooted in Tibetan Buddhist practice. The word means \u201cgood eye\u201d, as far as I know. In photography, it translates as \u201cdon\u2019t go looking for photos\u201d. You sit still somewhere, and wait for something interesting to you happens. Then you photograph it. That\u2019s it. No searching, no hunting, no pressure, no evaluation afterwards. I first got into the idea when a fellow photographer on substact whose name I forgot (sorry) had a broken leg and decided to sit at a cafe\u2019s table all day and take the photographs that came to him instead of hunting for them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And in that waiting, something happens to your attention. It opens. It stops being on the hunt for something. You stop scanning for opportunities and start receiving what\u2019s already there. In a way you get close to tapping into the Default Mode Network<\/a>. The next time you go out to shoot, try arriving without a goal. Leave the zoom lens at home. Pick one focal length. Sit somewhere: a park bench, a cafe window, a street corner. Stay still for twenty minutes. Resist the urge to look for photographs. Simply look at things. When something holds your attention, raise the camera.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Obviously, you\u2019ll discover that most of what you shoot in that state of mind is unremarkable. A coffee cup. Someone walking past. A bird. These aren\u2019t portfolio worthy. But you stop judging them. You stop evaluating against build standards and deliverables. And without that evaluation, the drain of the hectic energy disappears. You just relax taking photos.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Obviously that\u2019s not the only way of shooting. And you don\u2019t have to be in the Flow either. Sometimes you have to work quickly, under external constraints, or according to someone else\u2019s standards. That\u2019s just the way it is. But when things become too much, remember you can pause and you don\u2019t need to deliver<\/a>. The frantic pursue of results and keepers isn\u2019t sustainable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The camera doesn\u2019t decide which experience you have. It\u2019s just the tool. Go find a quiet place. Give it twenty minutes. See what happens.<\/p>\n\n\n\n #Photography #Opinion #IMayBeWrong #Flow<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" When I go out to take photographs, it can go two ways depending on location, days, and my mood: I\u2019m pretty sure everyone has had both experiences over time. There are endless street photography videos that explain how to handle the hectic, how to plan ot react to things happening, and how to be prepared. 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