On a darker yet a positive note?

There’s this thought that’s been haunting my head for a long time. It’s a rather depressing one and it’s been with me for a while. But it feels like it just needs to finally get out even though it’s not necessarily photography oriented yet I believe it still applies to it. Here goes… What are we leaving behind? What’s the point? And by that, I mean long term. There’s a moment in time, sometime in the future, it could be decades, it could be hundreds of years when you’re thought of and remembered for the last time. Ever. All of the hard work you’re currently putting into whatever you’re creating is most likely gone by then. All the time spent chasing recognition, losing out on all the important things in life is going to be rendered a waste. Even the oldest ever remembered people in human history, though we still know of them thousands of years after their death, will eventually be gone from whatever is left of humanity in the near or far future. So does whatever we do even matter? I know this is hitting depressing levels you probably didn’t expect on a photographer’s blog, but I think it’ll all make sense in the end. Unless you’re already bored in which case thanks for stopping by, I understand why you might want to leave.

There’s a text written by a brilliant writer sang by a modern-day legend. It’s one of the few ones that actually make me think about my entire existence and contemplate the reason for it all. I’m sure you’ve heard it. It’s called Hurt and the cover I’ve got in mind is the one done by Johnny Cash. Why am I mentioning it? Because Johnny, as it at least seems to me, has had a similar realization when he was nearing the end of his life. Everyone eventually passes and his “empire of dirt” he spent his entire life building is, in the end, for nothing. Why am I mentioning all of this and why am I being so negative? Well… I’ve talked about this exact issue with a friend on his live stream a while back and he’s helped me tremendously with said mindset.

You see, I’ve spent most of my photographic life worrying, wondering, filling myself with unreasonable expectations. “How many people will see this set of images?” “Will anyone like this?” “Will anyone even care?” “When am I gonna get published, exhibited or sold next to Salgado’s or Sir McCullin’s work?”. Similar thoughts like these would often drive me to work better, to work harder, to really care about what people think about what I’m creating. Often to a point when I wouldn’t post or even photograph scenes and pictures I liked because it felt like it didn’t fit this little image I’ve created in my head. As if I’d be disappointing people following my work with photographs I didn’t promise to them with what I’ve been uploading or making so far. And when I did the work I limited my photography to and got the recognition for it, even though it felt good, it always eventually fizzled out and never really took me anywhere near to where I set my expectations. I’ve been working on other projects that I just gave up on because of this thought. Thanks to that “What’s the point?” mindset.

But then I’ve finally realised the nonsensical nature of this way of thinking. And this applies to pretty much any creative endeavour, not just photography. I needed to finally understand that I enjoy the process of creating rather than fixate myself on the possible outcomes or payoffs only to get ultimately disappointed and discouraged. Forget about what I’ll leave behind or for how long it’ll be remembered, but “Create for the sake of creation”. That’s a quote I stole from a friend of mine, Jeffrey Saddoris, who’s helped me open my mind to this concept and to finally free myself of the boundaries I’ve set for myself. In order to do that, I need to not start but keep creating, photographing, writing. This time though not what I think people will want to see. I need to create whatever the fuck I want just for the sake of the process I enjoy.

If you’ve made it this far I’m guessing you’ve been, or still are, in a similar place. I’m not gonna suggest anything to you or give you any advice. Each person, each creative has to figure this out for themselves and this has been only a slice of my creative journey which I’m hoping will be much more diverse from now on. I might start posting more photographs online of different things than just monochrome candid people. I might not. We’ll see. I have no idea what’s next. Stay tuned, or don’t. If you will, thank you for being here. I’m grateful for every single person on this journey with me.