The Clarity of Distance
Over the years, I’ve learned an important lesson about problem solving. Sometimes, the very best thing you can do when you’re stuck on a problem is to take a break and get some fresh air. Stepping away for a little while gives your brain a chance to rest, and sometimes, that’s exactly what it needs. Sure enough, solutions will present themselves, often when you least expect them. As a photographer, I’ve adopted a few practical habits that take advantage of this clarity of distance.
One obvious fact when working in the landscape is that it takes time to become familiar with a new place. My first photographs from a particular location are full of excitement and new ideas, but it takes subsequent visits to develop those ideas into something that takes advantage of the unique characteristics of the place. I’ve visited some of my now-favorite locations three or four times before the good pictures begin to happen.
Something special happens in that time in-between visits. I subconsciously synthesize a whole bunch of information about the site. On my next visit, I have a stronger idea of where I want to go, what I want to see, and the pictures I want to make. I’ve begun to think of that in-between time as crucial to the development of a project.
Another example is looking at contact sheets. When I get a batch of film back from the lab, I cant wait to tear into it and start looking at images. Often, though, the first look at a contact sheet is a bit humbling. None of the images are quite what I remembered them to be. After feeling bad for myself for a little while, a few images start to look promising and I get to work on them.
Looking at that same contact sheet a week later, after I’ve had some time to digest, things are a little different. There are often one or two photos that didn’t jump out on first glance, but have stuck with me for one reason or another. After a little bit of time and space, the possibilities begin to emerge. Many times it is these images, and not the first ones that I selected, that end up being my favorite from the day.
There are other times when a little bit of time and patience has its rewards. I find that if I take a few days between first processing an image and coming back to it, I will always have some some ideas about fine-tuning. When editing a series of photos, a second or third pass a week later makes all the difference.
Developing focus, patience and persistence has been one of the most difficult things I’ve had to learn as a photographer—much more so than acquiring the necessary technical skills. And there are some days where I have to trick myself because otherwise I won’t follow through. But I’ve come to realize that creative work is a luxury, and that I am working on things that I want to be proud of in twenty, thirty, forty years from now, and all of that requires time.
(This was originally written in 2009)
