The unconscious obsession that we photographers have is that wherever we go we want to find the theme that we carry inside ourselves. – Graciela Iturbide

I think I have a touch of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD). It runs in my family – not in a huge way like you see on TV (although my oldest sister had it that way), but just some mild things that I find I just can’t let go of until it’s out of my system.

I get a specific photograph in my mind, or series of photographs, and I just can’t let it go till it’s done.  There’s the compulsive need to release it from deep within. It gnaws at me. It controls both sides of my brain – the conceptual side that is envisioning the photo plus my analytical planning mind to figure out the million details that it will take to get it done.

I released my Ghosts of Myanmar series a couple weeks ago and it’s been very well received.  By all accounts, I should be happy with that and move on to my next photo project. Except that I’m not happy.  I like them just fine, but they’re only part of the story.  The photos within me haven’t been fully released.  There’s a Part 2 in my head that will complete it, and now the planning is taking place to get that done.

By the time I finish that series, I’ll have more than two years invested in it.  Compared to many of the Masters, that’s nothing.  Photographers like Clyde Butcher can spend decades documenting the Everglades, for example.  For him it’s a passion to save that environment from destruction.

But I keep asking myself – what’s my motivation to complete the Ghosts of Myanmar series? I love Myanmar, don’t get me wrong, but that’s not it.  The best, most logical answer I can come up with is OCD – I have no other explanation for it, although my mind will endlessly keep searching for one as a “background task”. The late Spalding Gray had “The Monster” – a book that he felt compelled to finish writing, and kept haunting him until he did (I hope that I will avoid his fate though).

A side effect of this situation is that one particular series tries to push out any others that may have been percolating.  I need to consciously push these other ideas to the forefront in order to keep expanding my portfolio.

It’s not all bad though.  I know that this obsession will keep pushing me to take things to new heights – into areas that I would have never thought of without these endless hours of pondering.

I won’t head back to Myanmar until October.  Every day until then, I’ll be researching, planning, testing, learning or just dreaming about how to best complete that series.  I know the direction I want it to go, and a general idea of the technique it will take to bring them to life, but I want/need to envision specific shots. I do allow for serendipity, but that comes once I’m on location.

I have to figure out what it will take to release this series from my creative center, and that takes time. And that’s the Obsession.

Ttyl

Mark

I’m excited to share my latest photo series – Ghosts of Myanmar.

Myanmar (formerly known as Burma) has a rich, sad and spectacular history filled with art, conquest, war, reverence and resilience.  Throughout my travel there I found people who were immensely proud of their country, and are excited about its future.  They also have a deep connection to the past, most visibly through the thousands of temples in every part of the country.

Many temples are still the center of village or city life, while others are ghostly decaying reminders of the past. These ghosts have been witness to countless prayers, wars and natural disasters, yet still retain their beauty and majesty.

This series is an attempt to capture that decaying beauty.

Click here to view the photo series

Mark

Sunset over ancient temples, Bagan Myanmar

Yes. It’s possible to think of photography as an act of editing, a matter of where you put your rectangle pull it out or take it away. Sometimes people ask me about films, cameras and development times in order to find out how to do landscape photography. The first thing I do in landscape photography is go out there and talk to the land – form a relationship, ask permission, it’s not about going out there like some paparazzi with a Leica and snapping a few pictures, before running off to print them.- Michael Kenna

I’m back from my month in Southeast Asia and am deep into the editing phase of the project.  Or as I like to call it, the “I suck” phase.

I go through this with every project.  I wrote about it in my previous blog post called The Agony of Editing.  I know it will get better, but this is all part of the process – and an important one.

I have a background in Naval aviation, and the crews always debriefed themselves after every flight to see what they did well and what they could do better.  By doing this analysis, they continue to grow their skills and always stay sharp.

So as I go through each shot, I’m my harshest critic.  I look at the lighting, the composition, the content and really try to look impartially at it.  I usually find myself asking why I didn’t move to the right a bit or get a different perspective.  Sometimes the exposure is off, so I try to figure out why.

But the main thing that I want to see is if I captured the emotion that I was trying to convey.  Did I actually come back with the series that I envisioned in my head before I left.  To the last point, I inevitably don’t.  It’s like a novelist who writes a book.  They usually have an outline and a vision for the final product, but it can just as easily take a different turn as the writing process progresses.

Here’s the thing though – I can’t analyze that “main thing” right now.  I need to distance myself from the negatives for a while.  I find it gives me a better perspective if I live with them for a few weeks out of mind.  I can look at them more objectively that way.  Right now I’m too emotionally connected to them – I remember how hard it was to take a particular shot or the good or bad experience I had that day.  None of that should factor into whether it’s a good print or not at the end.

At this point in the process my “artist insecurities” are running rampant (the “I suck” phase).  I need to let that calm down for a while before I can see clearly. So you won’t see any of my B&W work from the trip until sometimes in January most likely.

Until then, I’ll relax and enjoy the holidays.  I’m flying back east to spend Christmas with the family in Ohio.  My flight leaves on Tuesday – it will be my 17^th flight in the last 5 weeks. I’m already planning out 2012 and there are some seriously exciting things to come.

TTYL,

Mark

From last year: My total kit for a month in Africa

Every year I do a number of shorter trips, plus one long one (5-6 weeks in length) dedicated to photography.  I have one of the long ones coming up in a few weeks and thought I’d share my thought process when preparing to shoot somewhere I’ve never been.

Research

I’m a voracious researcher, so I’ll normally buy or checkout every book I can on the location.  That not only includes travel guides for the logistics, but also memoirs, travelogues, and even fiction that may be set in that country.  I want to get a sense of the place before I leave.  This will help me in my visualization and shot list (see below).

I’ll use Bing image search and Flickr to see what shots have been taken there before.  I absolutely hate, hate, hate cliché photographs so this will also put a picture in my mind of the shots that I don’t want to get, which is just as important as the ones I do.  Seeing the locations also helps me plan how I could photograph it differently, the times of day that might work best, etc.  Again, building that visualization and shot list in my head.

I’ll read travel blogs which share real world experiences about traveling there.  I can pick up tons of little tips which make a huge difference in the ease and quality of the trip.

Logistics

Through all that research, I’ll also find out about transportation, guides, food, the distance between shots, accommodations, etc.  This will also give me a better idea for how long I want to stay at each place.  I also look at small things like whether laundry is available in order to reduce the amount of clothes I take.

The shot list or series

By this time I have a pretty good mental picture in my head of the country.  I’ll write out specific shots that I want to get, a story that I want to tell, the emotions that I want to convey.  Ideally I’ll have a series of photos in my head that will form a cohesive body of work when I return.  Depending on the subject, I may even storyboard it out.  All these exercises help me clarify the end result I want. Note:  I definitely am open to other shots once I get there, but I at least want this core set of photos if at all possible. This process of visualization is by far the most important part of the planning – spend time on it!

From all of the above, I create an itinerary.  I want to spend x number of days here, x number of days there, etc.  I build in travel time and even rest days, which gives me a great outline for planning.

The gear

I now have the series in my head, so I know the look that I want.  I know how I’ll be traveling (heavy or light.  In my case it’s usually light or lighter).  I also know how long I’ll be there, which will help me decide how much film I need to take, batteries (if applicable), etc.  I decide which cameras I need, which filters, which films (and how many rolls), etc.  I really try to simplify things here.  I don’t take a ton of backup bodies, I don’t carry spare hard drives or laptops (an advantage of shooting film).  I do take my point & shoot but I just use extra memory cards as backup there.  If I lose one, oh well.  Nothing critical goes on there anyways.

A note about traveling with film:  I always, always have it in my carry-on, not in my checked bag. I don’t ask for a hand inspection primarily because I shoot slow film.  If I was shooting at asa800 or above, I’d definitely ask for one, but I usually shoot 25 or 100 film, with some 400.  In traveling many tens of thousands of miles through countless x-ray machines in all sorts of countries, I’ve never had a single problem with fogging.

Flexibility

You might be thinking “yeah, but with a shot list and series and limited gear, that really limits you”.  Well, it does in a way, but I’ve found that the times where I’ve wished for a different piece of gear to be a very rare occurrence.  If there is a limit, it can force you to be even more creative in getting the shot.

So…where am I going?

Well, I’m keeping that to myself for now.  It’s in Asia, lol.  I’ll be taking a 35mm, high end medium format as well as my trusty Holgas. Oh, and a digital point & shoot.  I still have a couple of weeks to refine things though.

I hope this helps.  I’d love to hear how you plan for an extended trip.

Ttyl,

Mark

When I started this blog I warned that it would be a mix of personal and photography posts.  This one is likely more of the former, so if you want to read about technique or gear, please feel free to hit the back button now.

Today is my birthday.  Today I’m also the same age that my Dad was when he died.  When I realized that, it truly freaked me out. I don’t feel anywhere near as old as I perceived him to be. I’m actually only 51, but that’s part of what’s strange about it – he died young.

It’s been a pretty reflective time lately, so I thought I’d share some thoughts on what it feels like to get old, for those of you who are still whippersnappers. (if that doesn’t make me sound old, I don’t know what does!).

1. I don’t feel old, at least mentally.  I asked a friend of mine “Is this what getting old feels like?” He immediately understood and said “I know” in amazement.  It doesn’t really feel any different from when I was 20.
2. I’ve learned a lot of lessons, many the hard way.
3. I’ve learned that life is far too short to hold grudges. Almost all everything that you thought was important enough to fight about really isn’t.  In fact there are very few things in life that are truly important. Friendship and love – that’s about it.
4. This may surprise people that know me but I have absolutely no retirement fund.  None.  I truly believe in seizing the day.  I’ve seen too many friends put off living their life till they’re retired and then they get cancer or life changes to where they can’t live the life they dreamed about their whole life. Watch the clip at the start of this post if you want to know why. And given the genealogy on my Dad’s side of the family, I really don’t have much to worry about.
5. The biggest one of all:  Figure out what truly makes you happy.  Do that.

Here endeth the lesson.

Tonight is a night of pizza and the start of NFL football.  Sounds like a good birthday to me.

Ttyl,

Mark

P.S.  We’ll return to our regular programming shortly.  Very busy and lots going on behind the scenes.

Look at the things around you, the immediate world around
you. If you are alive, it will mean something to you, and if you care enough
about photography, and if you know how to use it, you will want to photograph
that meaningness. If you let other people’s vision get between the world and
your own, you will achieve that extremely common and worthless thing, a
pictorial photograph. – Paul Strand

Thanks to technological advances, many more people can take beautiful photographs more often than in times past.  More beauty in the world is good, but when you add passion to the mix, you can create lasting art.

If you look at the Masters of photography, the photography isn’t the end.  It’s a means of expressing their passion for a subject.  For Clyde Butcher it’s his passion for the unique environment of the Everglades.  For James Nachtwey, it’s his passion for the underprivileged and the unjust that is conveyed through his photography. For Sally Mann it’s the passion of exploring the impermanence of life. I could go on and on.

Your passion may be for your family, your partner, the night sky, the human form, the ocean or an infinite number of things – photography is a tool for you to convey that passion.

It’s when you lose sight of that and get caught up in the tools that your photography can become shallow and ordinary.  Here’s an exercise:  If photography didn’t exist at all, what would you care about?  What would make you excited to get out of bed in the morning?

Photography in and of itself isn’t enough.  It’s about your passion for life, the emotions you feel, your perspective, the values inside of you – that’s the important stuff, the stuff that’s unique to you. When you tap into that, there’s absolutely no chance that you’ll be making photos that look like anyone else’s because it will be unique to you.

Ttyl,

Mark

Here’s a chance to be in a great photo book for a great cause:

My buddy Bill Wolff, one of the owners of Composing with Images Press (a not for profit publisher), is putting together a photo book to support Toys for Tots.  ALL the proceeds will go to help children in the areas of the U.S. recently devastated by tornadoes.

The theme of the book will be “Play”, but that’s very broadly interpreted, so see some of the examples on the site.  The contest is open to all photographers who use Toy Cameras (see how they define it on their site).

Here is more about it in his words:

“CWiP is seeking images that explore, complicate, and represent in compelling ways the concept of Play.  These might include, but are certainly not limited to, photographs that deal with imaginary play, word play, adult play, children’s play, animal play, games, or the various kinds of materials and/or spaces associated with play. Similarly, photographs might represent play from the perspective of a child’s imagination, or from a toy’s perspective, or they might take up questions about what it means to play or explore the matter of who is allowed (or disallowed) to play. These are, of course, just suggestions for representing play. However you interpret the theme Play through your viewfinder is what we are looking for!

This call is open to amateur and professional photographers worldwide working with toy, lo-tech, homemade, or modified analog cameras.

Note:  Though the book is going to benefit children in the areas ravaged by the tornadoes, we are specifically not seeking images of the tornado destruction. Again, we are looking for photographs that explore in compelling ways the concept of Play.”

CWIP did a similar book to help people affected by the disasters on the Gulf Coast and it was a big hit which helped many people.

It’s such a great cause, so please enter.  You’ll not only get some great visibility but you’ll help keep the childhood in the child.

See all the details and enter here.

Ttyl,

Mark

It is the purpose of life that each of us strives to become actually what he or she is potentially. Each photographer, then, should be obsessed with stretching towards that goal through an understanding of others and the world we inhabit. When that happens, the result, like photographs, is really the expressions of the life of the maker. – David Hurn

In my last post I mentioned the concept of levels when it comes to my own progress as a photographer.  These are artificial constructs, of course, but they help me to achieve goals along the way.  I always find it easier to follow a path if there are milestones along the way.

If you like to do the same thing, you should define your own and not use mine, as they’re unique to each individual.

Right now I have a certain level of success.  I’m regularly in gallery shows, my prints are selling (albeit not as fast as I’d like) and my name is getting out there.  That’s all well and good and I celebrate that internally.

But I always strive to do better.  I study other photographers like crazy.  I see how they put together their portfolios, how they construct their photos, present them to the public (as well as galleries), etc.  I’m a research-aholic so this comes naturally.  I actually enjoy it.  I talk to galleries, visit them regularly, look at how work is presented, sequenced, framed, everything.  I’m learning that in addition to a very strong body of work, the details matter.  Framing,  matting, sizes, editions, naming and more.

By far the biggest thing though is that strong body of work.  And one of the biggest things I’ve learned about that is that it should be cohesive.  Cohesive not only as a whole, but also as individual series or explorations.  It should all hang together and become “you”.  So much so that when someone looks at almost any of your photos, they should know who it was taken by.

So that’s where I’m at.
I have the beginnings of series.
I have some cool individual pieces.
I have the beginnings of themes.

My next level?  Pulling it all together.  Going deeper.  Do in-depth explorations of a subject or topic.  I have a pretty clear idea in my head of what that looks like, now it’s a matter of fulfilling that vision.

Along those lines, I’m heading back to Africa in November.  I’m truly excited about the trip as I’m already visualizing the shots I want to take and how they’ll fit into my portfolio.  In the end, I’ll hopefully have enough to have a strong solo show.  That’s my goal – my next level.

What’s yours?

So much prep to do and so little time!

Ttyl,

Mark

I should warn you ahead of time that there are no answers in this post.  No pithy advice, cunning plans or anything of the sort.  I just wanted to share my inner thought process because I think it’s more common among photographers than we usually care to admit.

I’m a compulsive self-analyzer, and I’m usually pretty good at it.  I’m relatively intelligent, reasonably self-aware and can usually nail down what the cause of an emotional state is within a relatively short amount of time. That’s what bugs me about this.

My best guess is that it has to do with expectations that I put on myself.

I’ve also determined that there are many levels of success (at least as how I define it, everyone is different).  The problem is that I can now see quite a few levels ahead of me, and getting there seems so far away.  The insecurities creep in…the doubts.

This topic came up when I was talking to one of the most successful fine art photographers out there (again, as I define it).  He mentioned that these thoughts are normal, and even he still has them – those days where you just lay on the couch and think that you suck.  Somehow that’s comforting.

One thing that I do know is that I have to shoot through it.  Once I get into a roll of film, I’m usually okay.  It’s getting out and doing it that’s the tough part.  At least when I look at the negatives, I can analyze things and see where I can do better.  Without those negatives though, I’m just lost in my own thoughts.  The negatives make it tangible.  Plan-able.  Resolvable.

I know that these things are cyclical.  I’ve also had times where I’m “in the zone” and getting some of those shots that make you look at them and say to yourself “Damn, that’s good – who took that?”.  That’s the bonus – the thing that makes all of this agony worthwhile.  There’s no high like it.

I just have to keep telling myself that it’ll come, as long as I keep shooting.

Ttyl,

Mark

Gold miners carrying their kits up Chilkoot pass

There’s a story about the Alaskan Gold Rush.  It said that the people who made the most money weren’t the people who panned endlessly for gold, but the people who sold the shovels.  They were selling the dream, not the reality, and that’s where the money is.

I see a lot of marketing ventures online, workshops, eBooks and more all saying how they have the key to help you market your photography.  They toss out all sorts of buzzwords like SEO, podcasts, newsletters, marketing plans, guilds, etc, all promising fantastic results.  Heck, if you have a DSLR and sign up for their service you’ll be the next National Geographic staff photographer.  All it costs is $$ per month, and your new career is worth that “investment”, right?  Makes sense – your friends have told you that your photographs are “amazing” and all you need to do is take it to the next level.  You’ll be working full-time at something you
love.

They’re selling the shovels (and getting a guaranteed revenue stream for them).

Don’t get me wrong, you do need to market your photography, but by far the best marketing is the simplest (and hardest) to do:  Make great photographs.  I mean truly great  - something that sets you apart from everyone else.

The only way to do that is to practice.  Shoot…a LOT.
Then study your shots and ask yourself what you can do better.  Compare your shots (objectively) to the stars in your field.  Really look at them.  What does the background look like, what’s the lighting like, what emotion did you have when you first saw it, how did they convey that emotion through the photograph?

It seems so simple and yet most people still are looking for that magic pill:  That piece of gear, the marketing service, the exotic location that will make it all happen.  It takes discipline to do the hard work of developing your craft.  Years of study and hard work.  There is no magic bullet. It’s just practice and study, simple as that.

The people that made money from the actual gold were the first ones in.  The ones who said “You know what?  What if we tried this stream over here – I wonder what would happen?”

Try, play, study, and most of all keep shooting.  Put together a body of work that will stand on its own.  Then you can start the marketing side of things.  And trust me, it will go a lot more smoothly than if you have a “pretty good” portfolio.

Don’t buy into the dream factories – make your own dreams through hard work.  Make photos that you’re passionate about and the right people will be drawn to it.

Ttyl,

Mark