I recently read of a 19-year-old football player, a goalkeeper for Real Madrid, who was in a serious car accident and left unable to walk for two years. The story caught my attention because it was 14 years ago this month that I had my own accident, which shattered both my feet, cracked my pelvis, and left me unable to walk with a long road back to normal.
Life, they say, is what happens when you’re busy making other plans. “Sh!t Happens,” says the bumper sticker a bit more succinctly. Indeed.
Like the 19-year-old footballer’s accident, my fall in Italy didn’t just shatter my feet, but my plans and dreams. At the time, it felt like a heartbreaking detour.
But it wasn’t a detour at all. A detour takes you from your planned path, diverts you for a while, and then plunks you down further up the road. You use more fuel and might feel lost for a moment or two, but then you’re back on track. Chances are, it won’t make that much of a difference.
What happened to me in Italy didn’t just give me an alternate route to wherever I thought I was heading; it took me in an entirely new direction. It didn’t feel that way at the time—it didn’t even feel like a detour, but an impassable roadblock.
I bet it felt like that to the young footballer, too. His name is Julio Iglesias. The name is probably familiar to you, though you might not know him as an athlete. The accident happened a long time ago; Iglesias is now 81 years old. He is one of the world’s most beloved and commercially successful Spanish singers, not to mention one of the best-selling musicians of all time. During his two-year recovery, one of his nurses gave him a guitar, and he discovered his gift for music. His accident wasn’t a detour. And it wasn’t a roadblock. It was a redirection.
If you’ve ever used GPS navigation in your car, you know the chastising tone of voice your navigation uses when you take a wrong turn. “Recalculating,” it repeats until it finds a way to re-route you. I can’t be the only one who hears it saying “dumbass”in the pauses in between.
If you listen carefully, that’s the constant refrain of the creative life: “Recalculating…Recalculating…”
The challenge is not “getting back on track.” It’s not avoiding the mistakes and missteps that take us off at the wrong exit. The challenge is to hear in that one-word mantra (recalculating…) not judgment but possibility. It’s to hear an invitation in the pauses in between. Heard with an open mind, it’s a call to adventure.
In my home airport, Vancouver International, there is a quote on the wall that reminds travellers that “it’s not the destination that counts, but the journey,” which always makes me laugh because if there’s one time in life the destination really does matter, it’s air travel. The destination is the whole point!
In the creative life, there is no destination. It’s not that it’s less important; it simply doesn’t exist. There is no place where one arrives, collects their luggage, and tosses their boarding passes in the bin on the way out of the airport, the journey now complete.
The creative life is only journey.
It is always recalculating.
This isn’t positive thinking; it’s creative thinking, and it’s important if we’re going to approach our work with less rigidity and find greater joy in it. It’s absolutely necessary if we’re going to make work that isn’t safe.
And, pragmatically, it’s helpful when you’re trying to create your work in the real world when light and circumstances don’t always go to plan. When you’re in the field and one of your lenses fails, forcing you to completely reconsider your entire approach. When you’re working on a body of work that you thought was going in one direction but takes a right turn at Albuquerque (Bugs Bunny fans will get the reference). Or when you’re photographing a scene and it’s just not working, or that moment you’ve waited so long for materializes differently than you planned.
Do you bang your head against these circumstances, maybe use them as excuses, or (to return to my metaphor) do you take the off-ramp and see where it leads?
Sometimes, all I’ve had to do is turn around (recalculating, recalculating) and point my camera at something else.
In hindsight, the best of my work has often resulted from the unexpected or the accidental. What initially appeared to be a roadblock was, in fact, an invitation to recalculate.
Better minds than mine have observed that “what’s in the way is the way.” Whether it’s a roadblock or an off-ramp to something better is up to you.
I’ve never found that my work (or my life) goes very well when I’m unbending and inflexible, when I adopt a stance of rigidity and stand my ground instead of embracing a spirit of openness and exploration. Trying stubbornly to bash my creative square peg into the round hole of circumstance has never been anything but exhausting, and I don’t do my best work when my tank is empty. None of us do.
Stay open. The creative life is one of endless recalculations, and not only can nothing divert you if there’s no ultimate destination, but it’s the zig-zags that make the most interesting journeys.
For the Love of the Photograph,
David
PS – I’ll be in Vancouver doing a free evening presentation at the theatre at Langara College on May 30. The event is free, thanks to Sony Canada and Kerrisdale Cameras. For all the details and to reserve your spot: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/light-space-and-time-an-evening-with-david-duchemin-tickets-1337180766669
The biggest challenges for most photographers are not technical but creative. They are not so much what goes on in the camera but what goes on in the mind of the person wielding it. Light, Space & Time is a book about thinking and feeling your way through making photographs that are not only good, but truly your own. It would make an amazing gift for the photographer in your life, especially if that’s you. Find out more on Amazon.
Comments
Hi David,
I’d love to reschedule a return visit to Bump In The Road! Drop me a line and I’ll work around your schedule.
Sage advise with serendipitous timing. I will be off to Northern Wales in a few days with only accommodations planned, the rest is up to chance. I was in Wales nearly thirty years ago for a weekend and now is my opportunity to go back and explore what possibilities it has to offer. I’ll let you know how it goes.
This is how I feel about my cancer diagnosis, which happened during (what was supposed to be) the final year of my doctoral program. I did manage to finish the doctorate, but my cancer diagnosis made me realize I didn’t want to stay in my original field for another 20 to 30 years. Now I’m doing adjacent work and actually getting use out of my home darkroom. (Although, admittedly, I still feel a bit self conscious when people I knew from my program ask me what I’m doing, because I’m not “using” my PhD. But I’m only a few years out from graduating. With more time, I suspect that feeling will pass.)
Oh, and as far as we know, I’m cancer free. So I could have seen it as a detour. But it wasn’t. It threw me on another road entirely!
I’m so glad to hear this! 👏
When they ask you what you’re doing tell them you’re living your life. There’s no greater calling.
Quite possibly my favorite of your posts, David. And there was serious competition!
You’re very kind. Thanks, Cindy! 😘
David, your a winner regardless of what happens to you. Think of you amputation, you weren’t crying, you knew life would improve for you and guess what, look at a mirror next time you in the bath room, this is the guy that never gives up
Nice of you to say, Stanley. I don’t give up, you’re right, but it’s a struggle every time. Day by day!
This is exactly what I have been pondering in recent days. Always good to hear someone else say it, as it adds affirmation that I’m likely on the right track. And thanks for the Bugs reference. Our whole family says that every time we even get near Albuquerque.
Can you imagine if you lived in Albuquerque? You be saying it all the time! Or you’d be sick of it… 🙂
Beautifully written and inspiring- should be required reading, artist or not.
Many thanks – my Sunday is off to a great start!
Best
Pam
You just made my day, Pam. Thank you for that.
Profound, David. And certainly thought-provoking as I near my 80th year this month.
Thanks, Jo! We miss you both. How was Patagonia?
I enjoy all your posts. If your are ever in New York City I would like to meet you. I’m at. ppg@earthlink.net . Best Gary H
Thank you for that, Gary. Very kind of you. I’ve you’re ever driving north on Vancouver Island, let me know!
Thank you for this post. I really needed to hear this today.
You’re welcome, Michelle. Glad you’re here!
Inspirational message delivered just when needed. The GPS recalculating analogy for unexpected events is great and will be well used!
Thank you!
N
My pleasure, Nancy! As all of us are navigating life and creativity it seems helpful to know what to do with that incessant voice telling us we’d screwed up! 🙂