I sat down to write this about a half hour ago, and after getting three paragraphs in I realized that it had become something I didn’t care for. It was long-winded, heady, and full of information and commentary that wasn’t really necessary to communicate what I really want you to understand. So I deleted it, and started over. Let’s try again.
Since I started carrying a camera, I’ve had a problem. It has often stood in my way, and seen with its lens what I ought to have looked on with my own eyes, and yet did not. From concerts, to walks with friends, to holiday gatherings, the camera lived life in front of me, obscuring my view of it. As much as it has been a tool to help me see reality from a different vantage point, it has also been a crutch, allowing me to continue living in fear of truly experiencing life firsthand. As I’ve gotten older and started to get paid to make photographs at times, I’ve realized that the desire to always have my camera ready at hand has dwindled, and my enjoyment of the adventures in front of me has increased. As I’ve blended philosophies of minimalism into every area of my life, photography has been molded by those practices as well. A good storyteller doesn’t seek to use the most words possible, but to use the right words. And if a photograph is worth a thousand words, well … I’m sure more often than not, I say more than necessary.
In my personal life, I am learning to put the camera down. Whether I simply leave it at home, or I take it out of my bag less often, the camera is surely not in the way as much as it used to be. When it comes to paid work, I shoot raw, but for my own adventures I’ve found compressed files to be plenty good enough. And that’s the key: good enough. Because those moments that I’m capturing are happening right in front of me, and all their glory is mine for the taking, but only in the moments that they last, and only if I stop long enough to pay attention, to savour their tastes and smells, their sights and sounds. Life is something we live. What will I remember from my photographs, if I don’t relish those moments when they’re actually happening?
This isn’t necessarily my advice on how to be a better photographer. This is my advice on how to live a better life. Put the camera down. Spend less time obsessing over the details, editing until your eyes hurt, pursuing perfection. Life is worth enjoying firsthand.
love,
— Joel
“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.”
Geeky Things
Camera: Fuji X-Pro2
Lenses: Fuji 35mm f/1.4 & Minolta Rokkor 58mm f/1.4
Location: Fayetteville, AR
Notes: I didn’t go into the process much in the post above, but all of the images shared here were shot in JPEG, with an in-camera preset I built from a “recipe” I found on fujixweekly.com. After importing the files to my computer, the only things I did were crop or straighten when necessary, and adjust exposure. Not only did I have fun with my friends, wandering around Fayetteville and making images, but I had the pleasure of working through all of the photos in a matter of minutes. The added challenge of picking a simulation and sticking with it (almost like the film days) was also a lot of fun.