PixelatedImage Blog

Chase Jarvis and I were talking about this troublesome vision stuff a couple weeks ago, not in those words, per se, but the same idea. We were shaking our heads over the technical addiction our craft suffers from and wondering why it seems so terminal at times. I wish I could say we came up with answers but really it was just a bull session not an attempt to save the world. The reason I bring this up, and am dragging Chase into the matter is that Chase is a very successful commercial photographer and it’s striking to me that this stuff is important to him; it’s not just artsy fartsy pie-in-sky stuff.

One of the ideas that came out was of the nature of vision, and the need to nurture our creative side at all costs. Chase looks at his career as a creative person through a very simple paradigm. You create and share it, then you do whatever you have to to sustain that create and share cycle. Create and share is the role of the artist, sustaining it is the practical stuff. You sustain it through waiting tables or finding clients to buy your work, as well as doing whatever it takes to feed your creative self.

Anyways, that’s not the thought that stuck with me, though I’m continuing to mull over Chase’s Create-Share-Sustain paradigm because I think it simplifies things for me without sacrificing the heart of the matter.

One of my favourite poets is Gerard Manley Hopkins, a 17th century Jesuit poet with a penchant for really dense wordplay. Among my favourite poems is 34. As Kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame. Here are the lines I’m thinking of:

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies dráw fláme;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves—goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Whát I do is me: for that I came.

If you can make it through the density of words, there’s a great little idea in there – that we mortals, as part of our being, reveal on the outside what is on the inside. It’s what we do. Our outer lives reflect our inner lives.

So why bring this up and why do it in the most obscure way possible by referring to a poet most haven’t heard of and fewer want to read? For two reasons.

One, the poetry of Hopkins and others, like Donne, inspires me. It is one of the wells to which I go to replenish my inner life, so it’s in places like this that I get my ideas and some of the handles that help me explain my ideas, if only to myself. There’s a richness in Hopkins’ wordplay that I’d like to one day see in my images.

And two, if Hopkins is right, then what’s on the inside will out itself in our images and the act of refilling our creative well and tending to our inner life is important, vital. There’s so much talk about being a better photographer, so little about being a deeper human being. It matters because it will show. A kind person is more likely to create work that reflects that kindness. A shallow one more likely to create shallow work, and so on. Sure, study histograms and the rest of it; craft matters. But are you nurturing your creative life with the same neurotic passion? When is the last time you looked outside the photography world for your inspiration?

So-called professionals are strangely guilty of letting this slide. There are times, when things get busy, that it feels like a luxury we don’t have time for. I’d encourage you to look at it the way you’d look at a chef who’s too busy cooking that he doesn’t take time to refill the pantry and fridge. At some point you’re going to be completely out of resources and scraping the bottom of the barrel for creative assets is not giving our clients – our ourselves – our best. It’s the best way to begin a downward spiral. It’s create and share without the sustain.

What are you doing regularly to re-fill your creative stocks? Are you out shooting with your Holga? Sketching? Going to the opera or ballet, teaching your children how to create photographs? Reading a book on creativity? If Chase’s paradigm is right, that to succeed as creatives in a circle of create – share – sustain, then it is refilling our creative stocks and nurturing our inner lives that keeps this whole thing moving, it’s part of the effort to sustain, and without it we stagnate and produce work that we’ve already done.

Chase has posted the talk to which I refered, in video format on his blog. You can find that video HERE.

The winner of the 20×30 Signed Canvas of the Within The Frame cover image is…

#182, CHRIS HORTON. Chris, I noticed you are local so email me and we’ll set up a time to pick it up and if you’ll let me buy you a cup of coffee I’d be pleased to do so. Drawing your number, and having you in Vancouver saves me packaging and shipping this beast to Kenya, so a cup of coffee or a pint of local beer, whichever you prefer, is on me. Congrats.

Thanks to everyone who played, and to APC for being so good to my readers. I’m hoping to announce a new giveaway any day now, just waiting for my sponsor to give the word. Stay tuned!

Here’s the July wallpapers in both 2560×1600 and 1280×853, shot in Havana. This is the wall of the Hanoi restaurant in Old Havana. Nothing Vietnamese about it but as I ate at a Cuban place in Vietnam, I like the symmetry of having eaten at an allegedly Vietnamese place in Cuba. Thought I’d go for something more upbeat and graphical this time. These ones ought to keep you awake.

Click the image above to get the small wallpaper, and HERE to get the large one.

Tune in tomorrow to find out who won the signed 20×30 canvas of the Within The Frame cover image. If the comments are still open you still have time to get your name in. More details HERE.

Hope you all had a great weekend. I’m gearing up for Ethiopia this week, I leave Friday morning. That means I’m up to my ears in creative briefs, gear, and a mountain of little detaily things that always seems to predicate these trips. But you’ll be pleased to know I’ve got posts lined up for the week and there will be a new desktop wallpaper on the 30th. July 1st is Canada Day so to celebrate I’ll be announcing the winner of the signed 20×30 canvas I announced HERE.

On the subject of backups, I trust, for the sake of your sanity, you’re being diligent. Most of us back up our image files religiously. Are you also backing up your database files for Lightroom or Aperture?

You absolutely need to be sure your Lightroom Catalog files are backed up. Lose them to a corruption or hard drive failure and you lose a heartbreaking amount of work. Lightroom allows you to specify where these backups can be made and when. Problem is, none of the options offered include one to backup when shutting Lightroom down, which is when I would want to do it – after I’ve imported, made changes, etc. All their built-in options are for backups when Lightroom is launched and I think that’s really lame.

So because I embrace my paranoia I finally did something about this. My main machine has several internal drives. One is my main drive, and another is the backup of that main drive. The rest are drives for RAW files and until recently they also held my Lightroom Catalog files and got backed up in a pretty haphazard way.

So here’s what I did. I moved them all – I have 6 right now – to a folder marked LIGHTROOM CATALOGS on my main drive. My main drive gets backed up by Super Duper to my internal backup drive automatically every weekeday at 9:30pm. So now I have automated back up that is never more than 1 days old, unless it all goes down on Sunday night, then it’s 2 days old.

Now all you have to do is re-open your catalogs, go to Lightroom > Catalog Settings > and under Backup Catalog chose Never. Should you have a problem you’ve got recent backups sitting on your back up drive and Lightroom won’t keep asking you about it.

It happens. You’re doing just fine, trip’s going well, you’re rocking the assignment, and then it happens. The camera breaks, the lens hood snaps, the time/date battery you forgot your camera even had dies. In some cases the only solution is a replacement, in which case you’ll be kicking yourself that you left that second body at home. And in some cases you just need a little advance preparation. So in addition to bringing redundant gear, consider a contingency kit.

I just got back from London Drugs, picking up new date/time batteries. My 5D takes one kind (CR 2016) while my 5D2 takes another (CR 1616), so I bought one more of each and stuffed them into my emergency crap-hits-fan kit. They’re easily available and cost about $6 each. Here. In the middle of nowhere you won’t find them for any price. What else is in there?

Crazy glue, duct tape, dental floss, zip ties
Small first aid kit, tylenol, advil, anti-nauseant
Time/date batteries and the tiny screwdriver you’ll need to replace the darn thing.
Spare eyeglasses in hardshell case
Small packet of toilet paper
Leatherman tool
Corkscrew
Wrench for tripod
Spare lens cloth
A couple granola bars
Sharpie marker
Safety pins

I carry this in a pouch I bought in Kathmandu, bring it on every assignment and innevitably use it for something I never anticipated. Still it’s small, doesn’t take much space, but when you’re in the middle of Timbuktu and you can’t find a CR2016 lithium cell, you’ll wish you’d planned ahead. Take some time before your next travel gig or wedding shoot to consider an Oh Sh!t kit. Yours will look different than mine, what matters is that you anticipate the small things that could prevent a an assignment from going well.

What’s in yours?

Yesterday’s post seemed to resonate with a lot of people! I’m glad it did; it gives me such great hope for the photographic community. It needs to be said that I’m in no way poking professionals with a stick. Never mind that I too do this for a living, many of my friends are working pros who I admire; they are professionals, craftsmen, artists, and some of the kindest people I know. My rant was not about them, simply about a spirit or attitude that we’re prone to. And by that I don’t mean so-called pros either. Exclusivism is as easy to find among amateurs, film purists, or Leicaphiles. It invades our ranks without, ironically, discrimination. There were many insightful comments left yesterday, among them a quote attributed to Stanislavsky: “Love the art in yourself, not yourself in the art” which is good advice because if followed it allows us to love the art in others too. Thanks, all of you, for chiming in.

I also wanted to make a comment about my reference to Peter Lik in my post, I Love New York In June. I keep reading it and it sounds to me like a case of sour grapes on my part. I didn’t mean it to be. We can’t all create work that everyone appreciates. Peter’s doesn’t resonate profoundly with me but I respect him for it all the same. What is important to remember is that we all do this for different reasons and in different ways. The fact that Peter Lik has done so as successfully as he has is a tribute to his marketing and business savy. Overly slick or not, he does it very, very well and where he could have settled for mediocrity, he took the high road. It’s a road so, so different from the one I’d have taken, but he’s done well in his business and there are lessons in there for all of us.

Yesterday I completed the bulk of the writing for my next book. It now has an ISBN and a cover and is being added to the mysterious Amazon pre-sales marketing machine as we speak. Once Amazon has it up I’ll be free to announce it in more detail.

My friend, Bruce Percy, who I hesitate to mention is both one of my favourite photographers and not a full-time professional in the stricter senses of the term, has a new website up for his Light on Scotland workshops. There are few photographers I’d go out of my way to do a workshop with, Bruce is one of them. Check out his workshop site HERE and be sure to watch some of his captivating podcasts HERE.

So many of you have inquired about my health. The official diagnosis was pericarditis, a viral inflamation of the membrane around the heart. I’m just fine, taking it easy and making a follow-up appointment with a cardiologist. That you are all so concerned touches me deeply.

My dates for Ethiopia have been confirmed. I leave Vancouver on July 03 and return July 11. I suspect I will be completely without internet during that time, but don’t freak out, we’ve still got next week and if you miss me too much there’s 3 years of backlog and a book to tide you over

Have a great weekend.

Earlier today I reacted to a quote someone posted on Twitter, and though perhaps I should have known better was shocked at the responses. So, because 140 characters is a perilously constraining means by which to either have a conversation or preach a sermon, I eventually turned off my Tweetdeck and will make my case more clearly here. I’ll leave comments open but for the record I will delete harsh or beligerent comments without hesitation. No one comes here to see a fight.

The exact quote isn’t even relevant, though it went something like this: ” To be a real photographer you also need to be a business.” Like all quotes there’s the fact that this quote is completely without context, so forget for a minute what the original author meant, because that’s not really what I’m reacting to. What I’m reacting to is the notion that to be a “real” photographer you need to be a so-called professional. The comments that came back to me, most of them in some form of accord with my plea for a more inclusive definition, also contained some pretty strongly worded objections to this.

So let me be clear, because this is going to be a sermon from which I do not back off or repent. The idea that the only people who should be called “photographers” are those making money at it, is total horse shit. Yes, to be a professional photographer you need to be a business person and you need to do it well. How many articles have I written about this very thing? I am a full-time vocational photographer, I make my living from this craft. I love and admire and encourage photographers who do this for a living. But so as not to be ambiguous, it needs to be understood that your art is not legitimized by how much money you make at it, if any. There are plenty of photographers of mediocre ability who make a living at this. There are many photographers who pay to do it, and subsidize their art by working as dentists, doctors, janitors, teachers, who are exceptional. To deny that they too are photographers merely because they choose not to sell their work, is not only ridiculous it’s offensive.

I suspect the reason people defend this particular rampart is that they do, in fact, legitimize their work by what it earns and when a talented so-called amateur (one who does something for the love of it) creates something beautiful without price or fee, it calls into question their whole evaluation mechanism.

To reduce our art or craft to legitimacy only when it’s kissed on the brow by the mighty dollar is perverse, bordering on creative prostitution. By all means, make a living at it. I do. I love it so much I finally – after years and years as an amateur – took the leap and began doing this full time. But that in no way made me a “photographer.” It made me a professional, vocational, photographer, but not a better one. I am on no higher plane and neither are those who presume to be.

No working photographer I know and respect would have the audacity to suggest that only the professionals can be “photographers”, but it’s not them I’m concerned about. It’s the amateurs I am concerned about. I worry that any of them would buy into this garbage and be discouraged from creating, expressing, pursuing this craft with passion and creating art for the love of it. A photographic world in which the first question people ask is “what does the market want?” is not a world I want to be a part of. Do we eventually ask the question? Maybe. Maybe not. But it sure as hell isn’t the primal question. Furthermore, art created from passion and not from greed is art that will more powerfully resonate with people, and is therefore more commercially viable, so even on a pragmatic level passion pays. I don’t want to look at the work created by a photographer who creates only what I want to see or pay for. I want to look at the work of an artist who cares enough to create something that comes from deep within.

Can you create great work and charge for it? Of course. But it’s not the right question. My next book is about the fusion of craft and commerce. I believe you can make a living – even a good living – at doing this. It’s not easy, but you can do it. I believe a working photographer is worth his wage and is probably charging too little. But not every photographer wants to complicate their art with the demands and liabilities of professionalism and there’s no reason they should. There are photographers who by profession are accountants and teachers and taxi drivers and they may enjoy their work and find inspiration there. What matters is that you create, you express, you share, and you find a way to sustain that. How you sustain it is up to you.

This has nothing to do with romanticizing the starving artist thing, nor a denial that this is an expensive craft. It’s merely this; a denial of the elitist, exclusionist assertion that you can not be a photographer, let alone a brilliant one, unless money changes hands. I’m not looking to define the word “photographer”, I’m looking to allow people to define, or not define, themselves as they like. At the end of the day I am not just a photographer. I am a photographer, a writer, a husband, a son, a humanitarian, and a dozen other things. None of them negate the other, they contribute, make me who I am. But money or no money I am a photographer because I am passionate about it, it’s the medium I love and through which I express myself.

If you’ve made it this far and you’re an amateur, keep at it. Live your creative life on your terms. Doing this professionally is a thrill, and I love it. But there are as many liabilities as there are benefits and the same applies to remaining a hobbyist – there are advantages and disadvantages. What matters is that you love and practice your craft without ever feeling the condescension of a so-called professional who doesn’t want you in the club. That kind of exclusivism is a harm to the craft and a denial of the prime mover in art: passion.

Comments are open, but again, this is not a fight. If you feel strongly enough about this that you want to write an impassioned response and/or start a bar fight over it, then I welcome you to do so. On your own blog. The photography community is one I love deeply, it’s filled with people – amateurs, professionals, and those that defy categorization – that I’d go to the mat for, but in the end this is not a topic over which we’ll achieve accord if you feel that your business card alone makes you a “photographer.” If this topic raises your blood pressure, that’s probably a good thing – it’s good that we are passionate about these things and ask the questions, even if we don’t agree. I’m not for a moment denying that the pros are photographers, just asking that as a professional community we open the doors, be more inclusive and maybe check under the hood to see where our art comes from. I suspect it’ll be better if it comes from passion.

So, all drama aside, what a great weekend! We arrived in NYC after weather-related delays in Chicago and jumped into a yellow cab to the New Yorker Hotel. What a great hotel in a great location, and for $169/night – seems like a steal compared to others I saw.

Spent Saturday with Jeffey Chapman, wandered around Soho, had dim sum in Chinatown, and then did Times Square on the way to the International Center of Photography. We also wandered into the gallery of Peter Lik, who is claimed to be the most awarded photographer in history, and while I’m not sure how much is hype and how much isn’t, you have to give the man props for his marketing, though if you go to his website I don’t advise bothering with the photos on the bio page, unless you like buff Aussies with too much muscle and apparent ego. He’s got some nice work, but the fact that I was more impressed with the gallery itself (he has 13 of them around the world) and the amount he charges for prints than I was his work, surprised me. Any one else never heard of him? Maybe I was just turned off by how slick it all was. Or maybe I’m just a jealous jerk, could be that, too.

At 7:30 we met Joe McNally and Syl Arena for dinner and had a spectacular time. Joe is so awesome I wanted to adopt him and take him home and it was a sad moment when we all got up and said goodbye. Sitting at that table enjoying a meal and the company of three great men of sizable talent and heart was a real joy. And the Cuban skirt steak at the Red Eye Grill? Out of this world. Seriously. I would go back just for that steak and a bottle of red wine.

The next day we wandered the hallowed, if not completely overwhelming, halls of B&H photo. What a great place. I did my lecture which was little more than 100 slides and me on the side babbling endlessly about Lord knows what. But we all seemed to have fun and a couple people told me they were moved to tears, I can only assume that’s a good thing, though the possibility exists that the tears were caused after the first hour when they realized I showed no signs of slowing down and we had one more to go. I had a blast and I’m so grateful to all who came. To do a book signing kind of event on the heels of the release of my first book, and to do it in NYC of all places? Dream come true.

The next morning I had breakfast with the B&H gang, had a great time, rushed to the airport only to wind up in an ambulance, and the rest you can read HERE. Yesterday we got home safe and sound, and a bit tired. The five and a half hour plane ride went by too quickly, which is strange for me, but I got into a groove writing and Van Morrison sang me up to the 60,000 word mark, so the next book is coming along fine. Hoping to be able to announce that one soon.

I’m so grateful for the kind words, all the emails and the promises from total strangers that they’ll kick my arse if I ever do that again. Truly, thanks for your patience and kindness and support. I’m much better and with a couple days of taking it easy I’ll be right as rain. I’ll see some doctor folk and make sure I’m healthy, promise.

Photographically, and this is going to sound a little nutty, I had a great time without anything more than my G9. I shot a few images, just playful shots, all of them crap in almost every sense of the word except that I enjoyed making them, playing, and the freedom to be not so serious about it all. I highly recommend it once in a while.

Shot the image above on the G9 at one of the entrances to Grand Central. Pressed it right up to the glass for stability. 1/10 @ f/3.2, manually exposed at ISO 200. Then I over-processed the life out of it in Lightroom. Like I said, it was all play.

Today hasn’t been my best day ever. I’ll save the details of the weekend for another time, this is just a quick note to let you know it’ll be a day or two before I get real post up.

I was stupid this weekend, feeling chest pains and assuming it was a rib out of place or just a sprain. The pain got worse and worse and by the time I was in the lounge this morning getting ready for the home-bound flight I was in tears and couldn’t breath. My wife – wise, gentle, wonderful wife – convinced me to go to the medical clinic in the airport and the doctor there called in the paramedics. We all had a wonderful time and there were gumdrops and flowery tea. But mostly it was questions and an EKG and lots of stethescoping which wasn’t fair because everyone got a turn to play except me, and I had to take my shirt off.

Long story getting longer, they strapped me to the bed on wheels and then dragged my sorry ass through the airport as if to say to the whole world, “See, dude can write a book but won’t go to the hospital with chest pains…” Then they put me into the ambulance but didn’t use the siren and if anyone in the whole wide world ever felt ripped off, it was me then. Anyways. Hospital, blood test, more EKGs, oxygen, flashy but airy gowns, and pee in a bottle please, then 5 hours later they put us in a cab and smiled and if they didn’t say it I’m pretty sure they were thinking “Y’all come back now, y’hear?”

Then we went to the airport where Air Canada screwed us and made us take a ride to New Jersey so we could spend $140 on a cab, $250 on a hotel, AND $200 in change fees just to get flights out in the morning.

Lord have mercy. It has not been a good day. But any day like this that you survive becomes a good story, and things could always be worse. Sharon didn’t think taking pictures with my iPhone in the ambulance was the best idea, but it was only because my G9 was packed.

Thanks for all the care and kindness expressed on Twitter and email. I’ll post in a day or two when things have settled. Right now I need to go to bed.

This will go down as one of the, ahem, funner work weeks I’ve had in a while.

Yesterday I rented a crappy rental car to drive down to have lunch with Chase Jarvis. Instead I got a brand new black Mustang GT, and giggled all the way down the I-5. Chase and I have corresponded but never met and we spent 3 hours chatting and conspiring and I have to tell you, he’s the real deal. I left inspired and more than that, with a profound appreciation for his creative mojo, work ethic, and sizeable brain. The man can think and when I left my head hurt from all the new ideas bouncing around. It was fantastic, and my drive home – apart from the bit along Chuckanut Drive which required my concentration in order not to (a) reduce speed and (b) go flying off into the ocean – was spent thinking about the conversations. Inspiration comes in many forms, yesterday I found it in Seattle.

Tomorrow I get on a plane and fly to NYC for a lecture and book signing thing. My lovely wife got us tickets on points – in big seats too, no less – and we’ll be staying at the New Yorker, probably under an assumed name. On Saturday I’ll be having dinner with Joe McNally, and on Sunday doing the gig at B&H which I understand is sold out. I tell you all this so when I tell you how freaking excited I am, you understand my full meaning. Perhaps when I’ve got more of this stuff under my belt I’ll handle it with cool and grace, but for now it’s all so surreal and I’m OK with unashamedly giggling like a school-girl the whole way to NYC. Besides, I still figure that the people in charge of the photography industry have actually mistaken me for someone else of the same name and will wake up any moment to realize, and quickly correct, their mistake by pulling me back into total obscurity.

And then I fly back and return to the increasingly normal life of writing, having meetings, and dealing with travel plans. I’m shooting for Save The Children in Ethiopia in July. In August I’m off to Thailand, and then it gets nutty busy with deadlines for the next book, and teaching, assignment work, etc. But for now, a weekend in NYC. Yeehaa. Let me know if you’re coming to the B&H thing.

Oh, lastly, thanks for the lovely comments left in response to the June giveaway. Many of them gave me a chuckle, and others made me smile, but all of them in some way made my day – so thank you. I keep telling people that the best a photographer or writer can hope for is that his work resonates with people, and the fact that it has just makes me happy as can be – thank you. I leave for Ethiopia a little later than expected so I’ll do the draw for the canvas on July 01, Canada Day.

See you next week.