photography

I’ve been walking more and taking more pictures.

I’m not a good photographer and I’m not a professional. I’m an amateur (at most things). But I’ve fallen in love with taking photos over the years. The word amateur after all comes from the Latin word ‘amare’ which means to love. To do things for the love of it

These are a few reasons why I enjoy the process.

1. Learning to see

Taking photos is about capturing a moment in time, but it’s about training the skill of seeing (I guess I do this in my professional day job as a radiologist).

You don’t have to take pictures. What you’re doing is creating a way of seeing ; looking for beauty. If you happen to have a camera ready, then go for it. Otherwise, appreciate and let go. I’m reminded of this scene in Walter Mitty.

Walter Mitty: Are you going to take it?
Sean O’Connell: Sometimes I don’t. If I like a moment, for me, personally, I don’t like to have the distraction of the camera. I just want to stay in it.
Walter Mitty: Stay in it?
Sean O’Connell: Yeah. Right there. Right here.

2. Walk, preferably alone

Solitude and taking photographs are connected in an important way. If you aren’t alone, you can never acquire this way of seeing, this complete immersion in what you see, no longer needing to interpret, just looking … There’s a distinct kind of satisfaction that you get from looking and traveling alone, and it’s connected with this relation of solitude to photography … If you’re not alone you take different photos. I rarely feel the urge to take pictures if I’m not on my own.

Wim Wenders ( “Written in the West,)

Solitude is essential in so many ways. In fact I’m convinced its the only way to understand and surpass the dreaded sense of loneliness we all experience. Paradoxically, by being alone, you understand what loneliness is.

In terms of photography and looking, by being alone, you’re undistracted by the sense of self. In solitude, you gain total immersion.

I like walking alone. I’m learning that I especially like walking alone shrouded by the anonymity of a large city.

3. The camera really doesn’t matter

It really doesn’t. I’m finding that in creative endeavours, the more constraints I have, the fewer barriers there are to creating.

One camera is all you need, and its the one you have on you. I’m finding the smaller the camera, the better.

4. Follow the light

I remember listening to a podcast interviewing the poet David Whyte where he recounted how when he used to live in Paris, one of his pastimes was going on ’light walks’ (I forget the exact phrase he used). He would pick a direction and walk, winding his way through the streets of Paris allowing his route to be determined by the way the light fell.

I’ve done this in London, and ended up walking for a good 4-5 hours along the Southbank, Central London, Soho all the way back to Kings Cross.

The aimlessness is quite freeing.

5. Tell a story

The best photos have a story (often a secret one that only you know).

You should take pictures for yourself, because they are a way of crafting a story of your life. Of remembering your life.

When you’re 70-80 years old (if I make it that far), a photo will spark the embers of a happy memory (or a lesson that was learned).

I do also want to explicitly write about various photos and experiences. I’ve been meaning to catalogue all my favourite photos - either on this blog, or perhaps using a platform like ‘Glass’.

6. Take lots of pictures. Don’t take lots of pictures.

There is no right answer. I personally take 1 picture of a moment and call it a day. I inevitably will miss a lot of the time, or the picture doesn’t come out quite right.

The alternative is to take multiple pictures and then review/edit afterwards.

It’s a personal approach. Similar to writing. Some writers will write their first draft quickly, and then edit till they are happy. Others will meticulously craft each sentence and then edit very little.

Other unfortunate pretend internet writers will just write and not edit (to overcome the tyranny of expectations).

7. Beauty in the mundane

I keep returning to this phrase and this outlook. Beauty is in the mundane. It’s all around, we’re just not receptive to it when we’re rushing around, fretting about the past/future/present, upcoming projects, work, relationships etc.

It’s partly why travel is so magical. It’s a temporary relief from those day to day burdens, and as a result it takes the lens cap off your senses, allowing you to see the beauty that was always there. My all time favourite human being (Pico Iyer) says it better than I ever could :

“And that’s the reason to go somewhere: not to see different things, but to see things differently. Travel is like being in love: suddenly all your senses are marked ‘on.’ You’ve never been so alive. You’ve never been so present. You’re experiencing things few people will ever know. When you’re traveling, you get to sample different versions of yourself.”

Photography and walking for me is meditation. It’s learning how to see. A reminder :

“A camera is a tool for learning how to see without a camera.” —Dorothea Lange