My kids frequently say they consider me to be the worst photographer in the world. This is one of the reasons they try to stop me posting my bad photographs on social media. I often thought of myself as rather visually blind, unable to understand rules of fashion or art, and bad with color. But in the last few months, as I’ve become more adept using color in my afghans, I’ve been spending time reconsidering whether or not these things are true about me. Or maybe also whether they have to continue to be true.
I’ve spent a number of hours watching YouTube videos about artistic composition, visual language, and finally about photography and how to take better photos. Taking better photos is not actually my goal, but rather to expand my horizons, challenge my view of myself, and understand a field I had not previously paid much attention to. But as a result of this, I’ve found my daily walks changing considerably.
I often walk for 30-60 minutes each morning before starting my regular day, including my more intense exercise routine and my work. Previously, I would listen to podcasts and audiobooks as I walked. I enjoyed the sensation of my body moving in the world, being outside, and feeling like I was giving myself a chance to have a “slow morning.” But with a bit of a photograph mindset, I’ve also found myself paying more attention to my surroundings. I often take photos, fully conscious of the fact that I am not going to be taking great shots. I don’t have the patience of most photographs, nor the skill, training, or equipment. This is not about creating good photographs, as it turns out, but about changing me. (Maybe all art is actually about this anyway.)
What I found myself thinking today was “anything might be beautiful.” This is a startling realization. It’s not that photographers are better at finding beauty in the world (although they might be). It’s that (I think) they accept the proposition that anything in the world might be beautiful, if the one looking at it gives it a chance. The right lighting, the right framing, the coincidence of this meeting that, tilting the head, squinting your eyes. Changing yourself, allowing yourself to see the world more fully, more freely, is what makes you able to perceive the beauty that always had the potential to be there.
I have taken photos of a dead bird, a dead snake, an anthill, a shadow of myself on the sidewalk, and just about anything. I find myself passing something I’ve walked by a thousand times
before and thinking—oh, I didn’t notice it before. Or—that is actually very interesting, I wonder if there’s a way to capture it.
I’ve posted a photo here of a scene from a recent walk. Some photos tell stories in sequence (I have one of a door that has a sign on it warning visitors about the gun owner inside, and then a “Welcome” sign placed over it, which is then taken do wn). Some photos are obviously beautiful. Some maybe look sad or provocative. I like how being a (bad) photographer enables me to be more present in the world and to see beauty all around me, where it had always been waiting for me to find it. And I find myself drawn especially to things that others might not find beautiful, might even call ugly or awful or tragic or disturbing. Those, too, are beautiful.
My Instagram is almost exclusively for posting 'photos I took that I like'. I think it was my way of saying to myself that anything might be beautiful, and this is what I find beautiful. Freeing in a way. And so it is interesting to see what my small band of followers are drawn to...or not. I return to my slowly growing list of photo's often because they bring me joy. The visual for sure. Buy also, remembering the how, why and when. How I was feeling. Who I as at the time. etc. etc. etc. :)
Art is for changing the artist…I like that.