Your photographs probably don’t matter that much, and neither do mine. The one that just took home the blue ribbon at the state fair? It’s (probably) not going to change the world. The one that just made the cover of that magazine you’ve always hoped might publish your work? In a couple of years, you’ll likely look back on it and see all the things you’d do differently. The one that got all those likes on social? It’s unlikely to be the one you run back into the house to save if your home catches fire.
It won’t be the cover images from any of my books that are most important to me when I look back on my life.
No, most of the images we photographers go to such lengths to create—the money spent on gear and travel, the time spent getting it just right—really don’t matter that much in the grand scheme of things. The one that has pride of place for you right now? Eventually, you won’t even glance at it as you flip past it in your collections.
What will matter is that you made the image in the first place. What will matter is that you experienced the thing with enough curiosity, enough engagement, that you took a second look and raised the camera. It will matter that you were awake and alive to that moment rather than just existing from one breath to another. It will matter that you cared enough, not about the camera, but about the little joys of life that you might otherwise have missed, and if you accumulate those over a lifetime, you’ll have lived with greater joy.
So long as you chase the right things, your pursuit of this craft will take you deeper into wonder about the world around you, give you greater empathy for the people in it, and drive your growth as a human being.
It will matter that you saw the world from new perspectives and that you tried a new technique and failed the first dozen times. It will matter to you that you did something hard, and it will matter to your soul that you pushed through and learned greater patience. At some point, you will realize all this is less a matter of you making pictures and that mostly the pictures—one by one—are making you.
Your craft, so long as you don’t get bogged too deeply in the muck of the technology around which it all revolves, is making you more awake and alive to the world around you, and that matters.
But knowing that this picture, the one I’m making in this moment, is probably not the best I’ll ever make (especially if making it teaches me something) is not a negative perspective. There is no angst in this. It’s freedom. If one day the photographer I am becoming looks back with ambivalence on the images I’m making now, then I can be less rigid about that work in the moment. I can be more playful. I can take the time to look around and see what I’m missing. I can try out a new technique or take a few creative risks. I can be a little less focused on the results and more focused on the process. I can look more deeply and see with clearer eyes.
How ironic it is then (if not surprising) that this lighter approach seems to be making my photographs better.
Maybe that’s because my inner critics are getting a little quieter. The voices still chirp away, but I’ve lowered the volume. Because even if they’re right and no one likes my picture or, yes, this time they really are just crap, it doesn’t matter. Not in the long run. What matters is that I make it, that I find the joy and the wonder in the moment. Sometimes—even frequently—that joy and wonder don’t make their way into the photograph, but that doesn’t mean making it was any less important. Not if making it is what makes you more open to it—more awake and alive.
Pick up your camera. Go play. Go look at something new, or find something familiar and look at it from a new perspective. Look longer and deeper. Take your camera on a drive this evening, or walk towards the setting sun and see what those last rays of day will paint on their way west. Slow down. Take a breath. Follow your whims. Find the joy.
No, your photographs probably won’t change the world, but they will change you.
Keep at it, my friend. It matters.
For the Love of the Photograph,
David
Comments
Reading this blog, I have tears in my eyes. The blog describes many things I feel but cannot put into words so well. Thank you.
Last Sunday, I got up at 3:30 a.m., grabbed my camera backpack, and cycled out of the city where I live to experience the sunrise. I had a rough idea of what I was going to experience, but I got something else.
I heard deer. The birds were greeting the morning in their own way. Later, cows in the neighboring pasture stirred. A dramatic cloud formation had developed toward the sunrise. What would the light do? What colors would appear? It was unique in its own way. A truly happy moment for me—one that made all my fatigue vanish. Photography makes me happy. And that means a great deal.
It’s really that simple, isn’t it, Sabine. It makes us happy. We complicate it and add layers but in the end, it brings us joy, and that should be enough. I’m so glad you had such a wonderful morning.
David,
I believe you just described a process that my photography has been going through for the last year or so. While surrounded with friend-photographers for whom perfection and competition are tantamount, I now just enjoy getting photos that please me. Discovery of new photography methods and trying them out adds to the fun! Oh, and then there’s photo art. Blending with textures and building composites won’t win any awards, but it sure is an exercise in fun and I really like the results. Old bird photos stuck way back in the hard drive take on new life!
Ironically, I was just titling one of my future SubStack posts “People will think you are Weird” with the intention of composing something that mirrors your superb article here.
So, thank you David, for writing this. You really hit the mark with me!
Danke David und danke allen anderen, die sich geäußert haben…Ich bin erst zwei Wochen bei Instagram und habe noch nie vorher Bilder veröffentlicht…und schon jetzt stelle ich mir die Frage, wozu ich das mache und warum ich mich verrückter Weise über ein Herzchen von einem wildfremden Menschen freue…und wenn der mir dann auch noch folgt..wow…Aber eigentlich möchte ich gar nicht, dass mir jemand sagt: tolles Bild!..sondern vielmehr, dass jemand sagt: ich spüre, was du gefühlt hast….denn es ist genau wie du sagst: jedes Foto birgt die Chance sich selber weiter zu entwickeln…wenn ich an etwas heranzoome,lasse ich es nah an mich ran…wenn ich mit macro fotografiere, erlaube ich der kleinen Raupe mir eine Gänsehaut zu verpassen…wenn ich schwarz weiß Fotos mache, lerne ich Dinge zu sehen, die sonst durch Farben übertönt werden…aber ja…für wen fotografiere ich?…Meine Bilder werden nie irgendwo auf Magazinen erscheinen…aber ich glaube, dass auch die Aufmerksamkeit und Liebe, die ich in den Moment, das Objekt und die Perspektive stecke, die Welt verändern kann. Denn ich glaube, dass wenn etwas wenigstens einer gesehen und gespürt und ihm mit Liebe Beachtung geschenkt hat, dann hat es doch schon an Bedeutung gewonnen…und wird vielleicht auch für andere sichtbar…warum glauben wir, die wir die Welt doch zum Guten ändern wollen so wenig an die Kraft unser Taten..und seien es nur Bilder…während die,die anderes im Sinn haben ,fest davon überzeugt sind mit Bildern die Welt zu ändern….was offensichtlich Wirkung zeigt. Als gläubiger Mensch würde ich sagen: Am Anfang war das Bild…Liebe Grüße.Inge
That was beautiful, Inge. Danke!
David,
I loved reading this!
You beautifully captured the true essence of photography.
Thank you, I will treasure this forever!
Thank you for your inspiration. Your words, photos and insight continue to meet me where I’m at with photography and with myself. As you said, “Keep at it, my friend. It matters.”
Thankyou David. This article really spoke to me. Your reminder that my photography is about my journey of exploring the world around me and the world within, is well timed. The idea that photography’s main impact is on the photographer is profound.
David, I always enjoy your articles, but this one is particularly bang-on. I’m a very different photographer than you, doing most of my work in my small home studio while you’re out globe-trotting, but I think our philosophies are very similar. I always recommend your book, The Heart of the Photograph, as the best book I’ve ever read on photography. Just this week I presented to MyPhotoClub in the UK, so I hope you’ll see some sales from that referral.
Your photographs are excellent, but it’s your soul that shines.
Thanks David – great motivational article. In fact they do matter becuase each one represents a memory for me, where I was , what was happening, etc. They are personal and when other people enjoy them too that’s a bonus.
I so much more enjoy my photography when I focus on being out and about rather than who liked what about my photo’s – some of my personal favourite shots are really reflections of my memories of that moment (and the ones that received fewest FB likes). Your words over the years have been a very important part of my evolution in photography too, so thank you so much for that. Keep it going!
Regards.
Thank you for saying that, Lawry. It means the world to me. Like my photography, I write for the joy of it, for the discovery, and sometimes just to get it out and see what it looks like on the outside. But also like my photography, it’s a great bonus when what I’ve made makes someone else happy, or adds something to their lives. Thank you for the encouragement.
Dear David,
I am a newcomer in this your circle of friends, if I may call it like this. This is my first little talk to you.
Thank you for your words of Love – that `s what it is to me.
I agree with Shruti: you are talking about something much bigger than photography only.
My main art is music. I play the cello. All you say I can apply to my making music. It suggests an approach of Love to everything I do. First toward myself and then towards life.
Thank you, David, to share so deeply your life with us.
Claudia from Switzerland
Claudia, you may call this a circle of friends. That’s exactly what it is and I’m thrilled you’ve joined us.
You have worded this so much more succinctly than I did: “It suggests an approach of Love to everything I do. First toward myself and then towards life.” Exactly! And how wonderful life can be when we approach it with love. ❤️
Thank you for your reflections. I strongly support your thinking, but at the same time I think that what is right for one may not be the right for another. I am here thinking that our personality traits, like the 16 in the Myer-Briggs model, make us to to think and prioritize differently.
Exactly the point, Roy. So if what matters to me might not matter to you then it’s probably best that we chase the things that mean the most to us, and let others do the same. 🙂
Spot on as usual. You have an uncanny ability to strike the appropriate chord with every article you write. I am really enjoying your new course, The Creative Photographer. Thank you.
Perfect Timing! I haven’t taken a picture with a real camera in months…
I got the feeling no one cared… just me and what do I do with all these pics when I’m gone.
I guess that doesn’t matter… it’s the practice and process that matters.
I think I’ll go visit the new flowers on my magnolia tree!! With a real camera.
Go visit the magnolias with whatever camera gives you joy, Red! All that matters is that you care, and sometimes we don’t know that we do until the camera is to our eye and we see something in a new way. Go find the joy!
Your photographs bring me joy and amazement, so, since I am the Queen, they matter deeply. I LOVE that you’re flowing ever more deeply into the world of the abstract —those shining elephant tusks!
You’re right: the nihilistic End of Life as We Know It isn’t that interesting. There is only the still point at our center and from that singular vantage point, there is only the dance.
Long live the Queen! 👸 Sending love from the dance floor, Sandy.❤️
Thank you for this! As a retired portrait photographer, I struggle with does anything I shoot really matter anymore? Who’s going to see it or value it? I’m all over the board with ideas of what to photograph now that no one cares but me!
It’s very real, and I’m sure I’m not alone in this.
Thank you for just confirming that it really is ok just to take each photo for the sheer joy of it !
I feel freedom in this moment. 😘
Tamara – I went through that too! My husband and I moved to Paris for his job, so there I was, without a shot list, and flummoxed! It was a strange sensation – my camera was familiar but what to do with it wasn’t. I realized I needed a plan because that’s what was missing, but it didn’t need to be detailed. I would tell myself I’m going to the metro stations today. And it might take me an hour to warm up and start seeing and knowing what to do with it. In retrospect, the biggest difference between client work and work for yourself is the clients tell you what they want, and you adapt to the location or situation. Now I choose the location, and I have to adapt my creative process to what I want. And honestly, that can a lot of things and change minute by minute. The hardest part to relearn was being open again. No pressure, just fun! It took a while to get back in the groove, but you will!
❤️
Thank you for understanding and your insight Denise!
It’s amazing how subjective it all is, isn’t it? How important it can be that “whether a thing matters or not” depends on others instead of ourselves. I think the goal is that it matter first to ourselves, for whatever reason, and then – perhaps – that it finds an audience of those to whom it matters. But (for me) none of any of it matters if I don’t first find joy in making the photographs in the first place. The joy is the point. I wish I could bottle that freedom…
What a wonderful article—I agree wholeheartedly. Warm regards from the german Alps, David! 💝
Thank you! Warm regards from Vancouver Island!
I learn so much from you about appreciating and experiencing life…all through the lens of a camera. Currently, I’m learning (from you and your workshops) how being judgmental cripples my growth. I’m learning how to actually SEE what’s in front of me! Also, how to interact with nature and people and our life on Earth with a fresh sense of freedom and joy. This may sound grand, but at 80, it’s about time. Thank you for sharing your experience and insights.
You just made my day, SherryMarie. Thank you. And thank you for being part of this community.
You’ve done it again. Your words keep shaping my relationship with photography, and always for the better.
That makes me so happy, Denice. Thank you. I hope you’re doing well!
David, I loved this perspective.
What struck me is that you’re really talking about something much bigger than photography. The camera just happens to be the vehicle. You could swap it for sailing, writing, climbing mountains, building a business, or a hundred other pursuits, and the idea still holds.
When I was sailing across the Southern Ocean last year, I kept wondering about all the photos and videos I was taking. Part of me was asking, “Will any of these pictures actually matter?” A year later, I can barely remember some of the shots I was so excited about in the moment.
What I remember is standing at the helm at sunrise after a storm. The feeling of being very small and very alive at the same time. The people. The discomfort. The awe. The perspective shift.
The photos are wonderful because they let me revisit those moments, but the thing that really stayed with me was the experience itself and how it changed the way I see the world.
I’ve been sorting through all those photos and videos recently, and your piece helped put words to something I couldn’t quite articulate. Some of those images will end up being meaningful. Most probably won’t. But the experience behind them absolutely will.
Thanks for sharing this one. Really enjoyed it.
Shruti
It’s all about the experience, isn’t it? For me the camera is often the invitation to that experience in the first place, or the reason I go deeper and all-in on the experience. The resulting photographs matter deeply to me sometimes, and other times they captures my attention for a little while then lose their lustre. But the memory of those experiences, for now they seem just to get better and better. (Also? “When I was sailing across the Southern Ocean last year” – that’s a serious flex. What an adventure that must have been!!)
Beautiful, David. Perhaps the most common question I get from friends about my bird photography is “what do you do with the photographs? Do you sell them, publish them, etc. etc.” At age 81 it’s a great joy just to be out there photographing. And if the light, bird (or animal), wind and sun come together for those not-every-day magical times, that’s why I’m still trying. Thank you for your insight.
William, you photograph birds and your name is “Wingfield”? That’s as good as being a travelling photographer named “duChemin” – I love it!
Good morning David. 🌞
I read your every article.
This one resonates deeply as it expresses the steps or realizations one should take for a happy life .
Replace some of your key words , photograph, photography, picture, camera with others, like song, composing, tune, piano or even occupation, employment, job, office and you find yourself on a pathway of self discovery and tolerance.
And what do we have but time to make our environment, and that of those around whom we love, a better happier place?
Thank you , as usual.
Joanne HB
Thank you, Joanne. I’ve long been told I’m not really writing about photography but about life, and it makes me happy that others pick up on that. The specific craft we practice is probably less important than that we practice it, let it teach us, and follow where it leads. Making the world a better place, even for one or two people, seems like a worthy goal to me. (And thank you for reading my words, I’m honoured)
I think you can retire now, DAVID, Not only have you gotten to the heart of the matter, you have done so without inserting the knife and twisting it for those that are still thriving for some elusive affirmation. I can honestly say that after probably 40 years in the business of photography, not once have I ever had the urge to enter a photo into a competition. But to this day, I can still go back through my images and relive those experiences you may or may not have noticed that I have yet to post a single image on our WhatsApp page. And it’s not that I don’t have what I considered to be some pretty amazing images. It’s just that I didn’t take them for anybody but me I do have a fun project. I’m working on that hopefully, I will have ready to share sometime later this summer, but it’s definitely not about the images and all about the experience.
Retire? I’m just warming up!!
Agreed, the joy is in the process of learning & growing as a photographer. Building a portfolio or bodies of work gives a sense of achievement, but many of my individual images will probably become worthless the day I die. They will be lost or discarded if they don’t have any sentimental value to my family. This is why I don’t keep every image – anything I don’t edit gets binned, it has already served its purpose.
We all photograph for different reasons, but I think being a bit less precious about it all is probably helpful. 🙂
You’ve summed it up perfectly.
Thank you, Diane.