The disappointment of getting better

The art of improving your photography

The other day, I was browsing through Lightroom and pulling together some photographs for a photo book. The book was a chronicle of my first trip to America back in Spring 2014. I’d been on the most amazing road trip from Phoenix to San Francisco, taking in the Grand Canyon, Death Valley and Yosemite along the way. Unforgettable moments and countless memories which are still as fresh now as if they happened yesterday.

As I sifted through the hundreds of images I had from the trip (I used to be really quite terrible at curating my images and so have spent many weeks now re-cataloging and actually — shock horror — deleting images that were not worth the disk space), I could feel a nagging sense of disappointment creeping up on me. It left me feeling flat and underwhelmed that the images on my hard drive didn’t match the memories in my mind’s eye.

I couldn’t help but feel I’d travelled to some pretty amazing places ‘too soon’ in terms of my photographic skill.

Sure, the pictures were OK, but they were largely incohesive, and didn’t pack the punch I’d like; the majority were definitely lacking something that took them from adequate to exceptional.

As a set of images I felt they lacked consistency and focus, and screamed of someone desperately shooting as much as possible so as not to miss anything — in the process of course missing the opportunity to stop, engage and compose an image worthy of the scene in front of me.

They weren’t all bad by any stretch, and I had enough to make a photo book that reflects the emotions I feel about the trip, which is a really important aspect of my work these days. I would even go as far as to say that some of the images are still amongst my best work. But I certainly felt as though this was more down to sheer luck of the draw, and being able to sift through quantity, rather than an excessive amount of finely tuned, quality images to choose from.

I realised that the images I still love from this time all have something in common; I had slowed down, taken a look around, and composed a scene with thought and attention to detail.

Photography is just one of those pursuits; the better you get, the harder it is to look back at your past work.

Looking back is important though. So too, is that sense of disappointment.

It means you’re driven enough to want to see constant improvement in your work, and that is a huge positive to carry through your photographic development.

The more you shoot, the more your hit rate is bound to improve over time. Reviewing and critiquing your own images is all part of that process, and by looking back and seeing what you might have done differently, you’ll be able to avoid the same pitfalls next time.

Gradually, as you shoot more, you’ll see an upward trend in the amount of strong images you keep from any given shoot.

Self-critique is a skill that can be refined over time to help you score vast and tangible improvements in the quality of your work; it isn’t something to feel despondent about.

Knowing that my best images are yet to be taken is something that excites and motivates me. It means that now, every time I plan a shoot or a trip to somewhere new I am more prepared than ever to capture the best images I’ve ever taken.