There’s a curse among photographers, if you believe in such things (curses, that is, not photographers), and it’s this:
Sometimes what we do not see can blind us to what is in front of us.
Go somewhere with a certain kind of photograph in mind and you might look so hard for that kind of image that you never see what’s actually there. Our expectations can be our biggest blind spots.
I went to Zimbabwe and South Africa last month with some very particular expectations; expectations that often went unmet because the animals were so scarce after an extended dry season. It took me some time to work with what I had, so blinded was I by what I didn’t have but had so hoped for. And so I came home with fewer images than I expected. So many unmet expectations!
But! Once I got out of my own way, the images I did create are better, stronger, and more truly mine than the ones I had in my mind (which were not only different but more numerous).
Where did this obsession with more come from? Why am I always hoping for more when I know from years of experience that I am most thrilled by the fewer images that take me by complete surprise (the ones I never expected), images that represent a risk taken, an extraordinary moment experienced, or fraction of a second truly lived in wonder? And how many of those do I really need?
After almost 40 years, I’m still learning. Learning to take the chance and just press the shutter instead of overthinking all the reasons the scene is utterly hopeless—and if the scene isn’t hopeless then the photographer himself often seems to be. Learning to see past my expectations. (There’s a whole different sermon about overthinking, but I’ll save that for later.)
Once in a while the lesson sticks, as it did with the image below of a young leopard distracted by a dung beetle. I knew the shot wouldn’t work (how could it?), but I pursued it anyway. Was it luck? Skill? Or just the willingness to try? Probably a mix of all three, but I’m so taken by the resulting image and the moment it represents that I don’t care who or what gets the credit. Years ago, I wouldn’t have tried at all. What we expect of ourselves and our own abilities can often blind us and stop us from ever trying. This is my favourite photograph of the trip and I almost didn’t pick up the camera to make the effort (overthinking again!).
I’m learning (every day, and so slowly, it seems) to say yes. To risk making what I assume will be a very bad photograph, in hopes it just might be better than I expect.
The images below almost didn’t happen, either. We had tracked a leopard all evening, finally finding it just as the light got impossibly low. “Too low for a meaningful photograph,” I told my guide, who then asked if I wanted to use a light to illuminate it, to which I said no, clinging to some notion that it wouldn’t look good and I don’t use artificial light and blah, blah, blah. But then I changed my mind. Why not? He flipped the light on and I was right. It looked terrible, all front-lit and gross (a technical term). Then he asked if I wanted the guide in a second vehicle to do the same thing and I shrugged and mumbled something like “Sure, why not?” and the light hit just right, creating depth and colour contrast, and suddenly it was magic.
Click any of the images in this post to see them full-sized.
Fumbling towards something better, that’s my modus operandi. It ain’t graceful, but I’m learning.
There were other moments, too. A scene with African wild dogs (also called painted wolves, which is my favourite name for them) where they’d hunted a baby impala and I had no idea where to point my lens because there were 12 of them running amok (all with various pieces of the poor impala), but somehow I got lucky when one of them trotted out with the head, a heartbreaking trophy but a moment filled with meaning as his sibling looked on in something that feels like jealousy. A moment with two lion cubs the week before felt much the same way.
It’s in these moments you hope desperately that the gear doesn’t let you down, but you’re not thinking about the technical stuff when it all moves so fast. There’s no time. You’re relying on whatever instinct you’ve nurtured so far as you’ve learned your craft. You’re worried you won’t make the shot; you’re worried you’ll miss it.
You might (like me) also cuss and swear a bit, but the longer you do this, the more often you won’t mean it so much and the luckier you’ll feel just to be there.
In moments like these, I hope you’ll feel that the magic of being present, of being witness to something so vital and wonderful (and sometimes sad and complicated feeling), is more than enough to displace any thoughts of what you aren’t seeing (there are those expectations again).
I hope you’ll also be smiling, knowing how lucky you are to be part of it. To be feeling so alive to what is.
The secret of life, if there is one, is being awake to what is right in front of you, not worrying about what isn’t. The secret to being a photographer, if there is one, is not closing your eyes to that, or wishing it were something else.
“So how do you do that and still get the shot, David? Forget the existential poet warrior stuff and tell me how to get the shot!”
Time. You put in the time. And you try, dammit. To the best of your ability, you try. You press the shutter. You remain open to luck and the possibility that you’re a little better at this than you thought you were. Skill builds so incrementally that we sometimes don’t notice it.
The best gear will support that learned skill, but it won’t replace it, so you make a lot of bad photographs to learn what makes the one that thrills you. And this takes time.
You learn from the mistakes. And this also takes time.
You find the patience to wait out the scene, and you find the patience to wait for the photographer that you are becoming to be equal to the task.
And you never let that distract you from the wonder, never let what you don’t see blind you to what you might see if you would just let go of the expectations.
Here are a few more photographs from last month. They aren’t what I expected; I think they’re better.
Conversations like this matter. My latest book is filled with them. And with the holidays fast approaching, might I be so bold as to suggest you consider picking up a copy for your favourite photographer, especially if that’s you.
Light, Space & Time: Essays on Camera Craft and Creativity is available from Amazon or wherever great books are sold. You can also get a limited signed hardcover edition here. If you’re one of the many who have already purchased it, thank you so much for your support. I’d love to hear what you think. Feel free to leave a comment here on my blog, or better still, leave a review on Amazon to help others decide if it’s the book for them.
For the Love of the Photograph,
David.
Comments
David
Your comments resulted in a knowing smile as I reflect on my recent experience in diving deeper into looking at the thousands of images I captured this year when I trusted myself and put my finger on the shutter.
Sure I captured images I “had to have” and had some disappointments in images not captured but what gave me energy was discovering the images I had not planned for and presented themselves because I was in the right place poised to take action.
It takes so long to learn that there’s always more to learn, right? I’ve been feeding my photography habit for over four decades as well. I’ll keep on trying. Fine article David. Thank you!
Lieber David,
Sehr schöne Bilder von deiner letzten Reise!
Es gibt Menschen die denken zu viel und sind zu “verkopft” und es gibt Menschen die denken überhaupt nicht.
Ich glaube das wichtigste ist die Mitte zu finden sowie bei so vielen Dingen im Leben!
Wenn man sein Handwerk versteht und nicht auf den Kopf gefallen ist, ist es grade in der Professionellen Fotografie ganz ratsam sich einfach mal der Schönheit der Natur und alles was sie verbirgt hinzugeben.
David: Some thoughts on equipment (all of which you’ve probably said at some point)
1) Equipment doesn’t matter – within context. I’ve been making images for more than fifty years, and I’ve made enough bad images to be able to make the occasional good one. I can make good images with a technical camera, a DSLR/mirrorless camera and a cell phone, but I don’t expect to make the same types of images with each.
2) KNOW your equipment. For example, my Sony a7RIII has 3 customizable menu shooting options and more than 10 programmable buttons. That doesn’t include the Function options and the menus. Each button has a default that can be overridden. This is great in terms of setting up the camera in a way that works for you, but when you’re trying to frame an image is NOT the time to remember what button does what.
3) One of my favourite quotes on photography (author unknown) is, “Why is it that when you buy a violin you own a violin, but when you buy a camera you’re a photographer?” Today almost everyone has a phone with a camera. That means you own a phone with a camera. That does not (IMHO) make you a photographer. Anyone can point, press a button and take a picture. Making a photograph requires more – especially from you. I consider myself a photographer because I see my world in images even when I’m not carrying a camera around. To that end, practice seeing in order to become a better photographer. Tom Brown, Jr. (founder of Tom Brown’s Tracking, Nature Awareness and Wilderness Survival School) used to say that most people don’t notice 99% of what goes on around them. He then went on to prove it. How does this relate to equipment? An example: I was going out for a walk down to the shore and decided to leave my camera at home. I was standing on the bedrock out from shore when all of a sudden there were a half-dozen Black Oystercatchers literally at my feet. I was internally chastising myself for leaving my camera behind and wondering what I might compose with my phone when that little voice inside me smacked me upside the head and I realized I was so focused on capturing the moment I wasn’t EXPERIENCING the moment. It was an important lesson in learning to see, and to listen.
Hugs,
Mike.
Hi David,
Thanks so much for visiting Calgary to share your adventures and life learnings and photos! It was a great night.
Hi
Great article and hits home. I wonder if I may be so bold to ask what photographs did you have in mind when you went on the trip. You certainly came back with some amazing ones.
Thanks
Nicola
Hey Nicola, one of the big ones was at Mana Pools, known for extraordinary light streaming through acacia forests as elephants browse, some of them standing on their hind legs in a behavior unique to that area among certain elephants. We planned for 4 days but flights cancelled due to weather meant we had only 3. Then the elephants we so scarce we only really had one good encounter, but it was neither in the acacia forest nor in the gorgeous light that is possible there. So we looked for what was available and tried not to let the disappointment blind us to what was there.
Thank you David. What a shame you didn’t get to capture that as sounds amazing. But the shots you got were stunning and also give total amateurs like me inspiration.
Happy Christmas
Hello David, You are so right in what you say about losing focus. I have gone out with preconceived ideas about what I intended to shoot. Through this idea, I have possibly missed other shots. That was until I was given challenges which forced me to look around and observe my environment more closely. I now try to keep this in mind and sometimes I am lucky to come away with a half-decent shot. Of course, there are some throw-aways. Shots that I tried to make better than they were but still, most of us try to do that, get home, and think what was I thinking?
Anyway, To go back to the original point, let’s try to break the habit of preconceived shots and see the wood for the trees. Regards Ron
Ron! Thanks for chiming in! It’s just all about being the most aware and perceptive we can be, isn’t it?
Hi David,
Thank you for this simple yet profound lesson. Both with photographing my children, and underwater photography, there are so many factors at play that expectations are rarely met. And yet fairly often, what is is better than what I imagined or hoped for. Your essay is a great reminder to always be open to the current moment despite it looking nothing like the image in our kind we set out to get.
I’ve been enjoying your writings for many years and look forward to reading the new book.
Aw, you just made my day, Barb. Thank you. Would love to hear what you think of the book when you get around to reading it!
Thank you David. What a simple yet wonderful lesson. A must read heading out on the next trip
I love the dung beetle distracting the leopard. Looks like it’s a new experience for the leopard and he doesn’t know what to do. Not quite the meal he expected
Jim
Thanks, Jim. I think the leoard ate the beetle more out of curiosity. Good the the leopard, not so much the beetle!
Having been to the Northern Kruger National Park in October I know exactly what you mean by “dry”!
Imagine being there for a week and seeing only two Lilac Breasted Rollers!
Fortunately I’ve been there almost every year for 50 years so just reconnecting with the bush and the cycle of dougt and heavy rain makes our 2000 mile trek worthwhile.
So very glad you took the opportunities you had………. you’ll just have to come again 🙂
And come again we will. I had such a wonderful time and was so impressed with the Sabi Sands ecosystem. Loved it! But next time we’re coming in July! Man it was hot. 🥵
I’m reading you last book Light, Space … – i enjoy it ! Perhaps more than the older books…
A couple of days ago i was walking in my local winter forest (Kimitoön island, Finland ) with a camera. An old white tail eagle was observing me and just flying very close past and after that some dozen ravens … i wished i had a longer lens on my camera. That was a 5 second disappointment/feeling. I started to photograph the bright layer of new snow on the trees and branches in very low angle sunshine. World is already full of great photographs of eagles and other birds – a fleeting moment of special sunshine was perhaps personally for me. Days are short and usually cloudy in December …
Hi David, I love your approach to work yourself through the moment and to be most critical with your work. However, the longer I photograph the tougher it gets to select frames which can live up to my expectations. This becomes more and more challenging , especially with my Instagram series which always consists. of a set with 12 images posted slowly over 12 days. In the past I managed to poste a series every month, now I‘m happy if I create one every two months. Do you have any idea how to improve my frequency? If I continue like this on my photographic journey, I‘ll end up to poste only one series per year. Maybe I should go back to create and poste single images which are not connected to each other. All the best, Michael
Hi Michael. Ah, the frequency. The keeper rates, etc. Don’t worry about them. As we get better our keeper rate should decline, not improve. If your keeper rate is high, it might mean you aren’t taking enough chances. Mine is getting worse and I celebrate that. Don’t worry about social. Post work when you have it and are proud to post it.
Thank you for that, Kari. It’s amazing how any one scene can be so full of possibilities. What you find and express in reaction to it will be so different from what I do. I love that. Stay warm up there!
The image of the leopard in the lights reminds me of a Joe McNally technique of using a warm gel after sunset to “create” the last warm light against the deep blue background.
And I cannot help but think any comparison to Joe is a compliment in its highest form.
Love the set David!
Thanks, Jeff. It was Joe who first made me away for this kind of colour contrast and the depth it brings. Not one for flash myself, it’s rare the moment presents itself somewhat organically (or by sheer random happenstance!). Hope you’re well.
Hi David,
I bought you book Light Space and Time and love your imagery and the essays.
I am planning a photography trip to the North of Pakistan. Both my wife and I have done these trips with other guests couple of times. We are looking at third week of August 2025 and a trip that would be 12 days long.
North of Pakistan is beautiful and the people are humble and can help us create nice images. This could be your first scouting trip and if it works out for you we can add it to your photography workshops that we could do in conjunction.
The area we will go are safe and beautiful. We will start our visit from the historical city of Lahore and then the Capital City of Islamabad, We will then visit the north of Pakistan including, Skardu, Hunza and Gilgit.
It would be great if you could join this trip, who knows it may open up potential for partnership.
Please let me know if you are interested so we can chat in more detail over the phone.
Thanks!
Ali Khataw
512-796-9510
AliKhatawPhotography@gmail.com
http://www.khataw.com
IG: AliKhatawPhotography
Thank you for that, Ali. I’ve replied to you by email.