mindful

For me, the ultimate place of photographic comfort and joy has always resided in those moments of unfolding story. I thrive on the spontaneous and I grow frustrated with myself when I feel as if I am capturing the cliche. (Though "cliche" is so subjective.) This is why I am often chasing movement, depth, and authenticity of a moment when I pick up my camera. I love that challenge.

But lately, as I have attempted to listen to the part of me that wishes to create, I have had a desire to slow down and be more mindful. More thoughtful. This kind of creating is somewhat agonizing for me as it requires me to be much more process oriented. I am not a process person. Just ask my husband. I would rather you tie me up in rope and drag me behind a car on a road littered with broken glass rather than putting me through some process. (Just writing about process makes me queasy. I'm not kidding.)

So it has been a surprise to me when I pick up my camera to hear myself say, slow down, be mindful of the process. 


For what purpose? I ask.

The word discipline surfaces in my mind. It's a companion word to process that makes me squirm. And yet I think of all the times (really not that many) that I have chosen the path of discipline and, as a result, I have been the recipient of an amazing gift in return: the gift of beauty, growth, maturity. Starting this blog as an act of discipline over two years ago was one of those moments in my life I chose the road I rarely had traveled. (I am so thankful I did.)

With my photo journalistic bent I am usually making a million decisions at once in regards to my manual settings and my composition because life is moving quickly in front of me and I am anticipating the images in my mind that can only be caught in a millisecond or else I will miss them.  For me, it is all about envisioning an end product before it has happened, with a nanosecond of process time to get there. And that nanosecond of process time is such an adrenaline rush, the end product so rewarding. (Just writing this fills me with joy.)

This is not really the case with a more slow, thoughtful approach to photography that exercises a completely different photographic muscle in which the artist takes her time in creatively thinking about how she would like to capture her subject. (ARG, tie me up to that car.) She thinks about her settings, her light, and arranges them "just so" to achieve the vision in her mind. This mindful approach has never been my forte.

So, last week, with this nagging whisper of an encouragement to try a more mindful approach, I set out to photograph these flowers I had bought for my mom. I wanted to photograph them before I gave them to her, before the opportunity was gone. Instead of plopping down on the ground with them and aiming my lens in their direction, attempting various compositions, I actually stopped and approached them with an ounce of thoughtfulness. I took some time to envision what it was that I wanted to capture (this was hard for me) and then set up a background, chose the right light, and purposefully chose my camera settings. I kept telling myself that I had time. I could do this as long as I wanted until I achieved the result I wanted.

There were seriously a few moments in which I had to lay down on the ground, stare up at the sky, and take a few deep breaths. I am not joking. But I eventually I ended with these and I am somewhat pleased.

I hope you do not hear that I am trying to make myself be a kind of photographer that I do not really want to be. I simply feel this need to practice mindfulness for the purpose of challenging my creativity in a way that I believe will push me gently towards a fruitfulness that I long for. The fruit of growth.

And since I am on this need to create more uncomfortable squirming, over a week ago I signed myself up for an online creative photography course. It's a YEAR LONG course with weekly prompts/assignments. As with many of my more important life decisions I rashly decided to do this and then promptly regretted my act of faith. But I know from experience that those "rash" decisions were always the best ones I made because I know my heart was moving quicker than my mind could respond in fear. (One of the few times that mindfulness can backfire.)

And come to think of it, now that I am blogging about this I am even more aware of the uncomfortable accountability factor which goes along with discipline and process and all of those big words that make me queasy. 

So my friends, at least once a week I will attempt to be mindful. I know this is good for the creative soul. I do. It is good to submit to a process if it means that I will taste the fruit of growth. This will not be easy for me but I can do it. 

I may have to roll over on my back and stare up at the sky and take a few deep cleansing breaths but I will submit to the process of being more mindful. 

(And please pay no attention to me if I'm begging you to tie me up to that back of that car.)