Liar, Liar Brains on Fire...

Da-Shroom-Wida-Plume, originally uploaded by goldenwreckedangle.

I like mustard. I like sweet potatoes. This is a big deal.

One of my 2009 new years resolutions was to learn to like the taste of mustard and sweet potatoes before the end of the year (not together mind you) . That may sound like a silly exercise but I've hated them both all my life so much that I literally had a hard time swallowing a bite of anything that had a hint of either one in it. I use to jokingly tell my waiter not to prepare my food in the same kitchen where mustard had been used.

Today I enjoy the taste of both of them enough to eat them fairly often. It turns out my own brain had been lying to me all my life about the taste of mustard and sweet potatoes. They are actually quite delicious.

What does that have to do with photography or creativity?

Simple - Confront your brain. It's lying to you. It's been lying to you most of your life.

Your brain is forcing you to see things the way you have always seen them. It wants you to go with what it tells you at first glance. It wants you to reject the unfamiliar and accept only what it hands you after it has applied all of the filters that help to keep you sane.

Children move those filters out of the way all the time and discover new truths and new skills at an amazing rate but in time the brain builds enough experience based evidence that it gets harder to push around. It eventually becomes a mountain that is very difficult to move and even harder to see around. Everything starts to get... predictable.

It takes a little faith to move that mountain, faith that there is more there than meets the eye. Faith is not the absence of doubt, it is the cultivation of the doubt that what you are seeing is all there is to see. Crazy hu, the idea that the seed of faith is doubt? It develops into something more, and one of the side effects is creativity, but faith sprouts from the seed of looking your brain square in the face, doubting what it's been telling you, then calling its bluff.

It's not a mustard seed, it's a creative seed, but they are about the same size, small enough to be easy to miss. You get one every time you remind yourself that your brain is lying to you. Plant one and see what grows. It may not be what you expect but it will certainly be more interesting than sitting around looking at the same mountain of predictable misinformation all day.

Velcro Fly

Velcro Fly, originally uploaded by goldenwreckedangle.

This was an image inspired by the ZZ-Top song "Velcro Fly." It started life as this creative commons licensed stock image.

Fly Source, originally uploaded by goldenwreckedangle.

Anyone with enough discipline, faith, hard work and imagination can transform their life in pretty much the same way. How far do you want to go? There is a way.

Story Telling Tips

I just listened to a podcast that is a perfect follow up to yesterday's post about storytelling. This is a short Scott Bourne interview with Kevin Shahinian, filmaker for Pacific Pictures, a cinema company you really need to check out.

Click the link to the podcast right here. I guarantee you will learn at least one new story telling secret worth the six minutes or so it takes to listen to the full interview.

Don't forget to wink!

I've been adding light, and lots of it, to just about everything I'm shooting lately. A lot of the images involve building a small scene, locking the camera on a tripod, then layering light on to the image one photon at a time until I have what I want in the final image.

It's a good metaphor for the way I've built up my style and technique over the last couple of years. I pretty much started in the dark and worked my way up to where I am now by adding one layer of new knowledge after another until I'm reasonably satisfied with the results I'm currently getting. The thing is though, I hate that word, "satisfied." It leads to "beautifully boring" and every time I get close to that place I find myself panicking a little and looking for something new and unexpected to shake things up a bit.



Do you ever do that?

Sure you do, I think most creatives feel that way often, and while our spouses rarely understand it, it's actually a healthy thing. However, I think it's caused by something that's easy to miss and the way we tend to try and solve it can actually make it worse with effort. The tendency is to keep adding bigger and brighter lights (knowledge, technique, equipment, etc.) until we start to go blind trying to see our way through all of that brilliance into the bold new future we all feel compelled to create. I think I've found the answer - "Don't forget to wink."

That's a phrase I've been saying to myself often lately and it always brings me around to a clearer vision and renewed purpose when the lights start to get a little overwhelming. It's a reminder to close one eye and look through the view finder on my camera and to stay there until I see the story I'm shooting isolated from all of the clutter. I can stand there with both eyes open, looking at a room full of light stands, softboxes, umbrellas extension cords, battery packs, light meters and all of the other things that go into building a complex shot and it just doesn't seem to be coming together. Then somewhere out of my subconscious comes that little phrase, "don't forget to wink." I close one eye, and peer into the view finder. It's like shaking a magic snow globe and getting transported into another world. There's a magical little story unfolding in there and I'm the only one in the room who can see it (shhhh - wink, wink! This is a secret world all photographers get to themselves for a few moments on every job, let's keep it quiet ok?).

"View finder." What a perfect name, but you can't just look through it and turn it into one, you have to learn to wink through it. You wink at something you share a secret with and in this case, the secret is the story. When I tell myself, "don't forget to wink," it's a reminder to think about the story going on in that little magic snow globe and be sure I'm telling it in the most engaging way possible. The images that capture that wink will stand out over the images that don't as sure as a person winking at you in a crowd will draw your eye in a hurry.

President Clinton was famous for the sign on his desk that read, "it's the economy stupid." As creatives, the sign on our desk should read, "it's the story stupid!" It helps if it's well lit, well composed, well focused and up to date with the latest trends but all we've really got to offer, all that people really want to see, is the story in the picture. I started telling my oldest son when he was just an infant that if he could learn to tell stories well he could rule the world. I stand by that and the camera is one of the best story telling devices ever invented.

If you have clients they aren't paying you for a picture, they are paying you to tell their story. It doesn't matter if it's a product or a person, all of that gear and light and knowledge is worthless if you fail to tell that story. You will take a portrait of some people that want you to tell the story of how tough they are. Others want you to tell the story of what a great mom they are, how much fun you could have if you only knew them better, or that they are an amazing athlete. A client may want you to tell the story of what their product can do for the viewer, what their company has done for the planet or a thousand other things that can all be said in a glance if the image is right. Make sure you have a very firm grasp on that story before you think about anything else.

Be flexible. The story will probably evolve during the shoot but you can't throw enough light at a dim starting concept to make it brilliant in the end.

Can I be straight with you? I'm kind of tired of the story I keep seeing repeated in a thousand different portfolios every day. I'm kind of tired of seeing it in mine. The story goes something like this, "hi, I'm another well lit subject sitting in front of another brilliant photographer who doesn't know my name but who wants me to tell you that he's got something important to say."

I'm pretty sure that's where the "beautifully boring" thing that all creatives hate but find themselves flirting with from time to time comes from. I think the answer is to forget all of the gear for a while and go back to that first step, learning to tell a good story. Study good stories by others. Ask a lot of questions. Figure out the story you want to tell. Write it down. Build a scene. Is this a dark story or a bright story? Add some light and see if the story gets better. Where do the shadows belong in this story?

Tweak it. Make it better. Get it? It's the story stupid! (nothing personal, it's just a sign) Wink!

Reel Comfy, originally uploaded by goldenwreckedangle.

Should photographers be a little more anti-social?

Anti- social networking that is. With the explosion of twittering, facebooking, blogging and general social networking going on in the pro photography community these days I wonder if camera manufacturers should be adding texting keyboards to their pro level DSLR's as well as video. Not if high end commercial shooter Tim Tadder has anything to say about it. He serves up a good reminder of the importance of photographers keeping their focus point on what really matters, making images that absolutely ROCK!

Critical Reviews

The only serious photographer who should be remotely ashamed of his current body of work is the one who can no longer scoff contemptuously at the work he was creating a year ago. It's a good idea to submit your best stuff to QUALIFIED critics from time to time as a path to new growth but the more you invest in qualifying yourself to become your own best critic, the faster you will grow.

Here is the danger in that. I don't think I've been fully satisfied with an image I've created in a long time. I try not to lie to myself but I know I can do better... every time. Sometimes the critic I've developed in myself takes the joy and passion out of what I am creating right now.

When I see that happening I give him the day off. I pull out my camera phone and take pictures of the Don King hairdo I made on my 14 month old out of bath time soap bubbles. I set up the tripod and shoot a lousy stop motion animation of my 8 year old and I building a Lego model. I throw up the lights at a family reunion and allow myself to take over lit snapshots of the people I love. In essence, I try to go back to the days when the camera was a toy instead of a tool. I give myself permission to suck at photography for a day and enjoy it.

I'll also take some time to review the work I've shot in the past. I let the critic in me rip the photographer I used to be a little so he can ease up on the one I am today. I can see the development from one month to the next but I'm also inspired again by some of the hidden gems tucked away in those old directories. It's nice to see how many times I got it right, even when I didn't know the precise, technical, photographic definition of "right."

I find that I always come back to the paycheck work with a fun sense of humor, a more relaxed spirit, and a renewed passion for image making. It tends to show up in my frames like a proverbial catch light; a sparkle that people feel when it's there but they can't put their finger on what makes that image better than the one where that subtle thing is missing.

If you get discouraged by your images now and then, that's good. It's the mark of an unrelenting drive to be better. Just don't stay there, and sure enough don't let anyone else put you there, especially online critics of your work. If you are better than you were a year ago, congratulate yourself and keep trudging ahead. If not, I don't care how good you are, you need to shake it up, because you could be... you should be, a whole lot better. Don't have the same regrets a year from now.

Negotiated Value

I keep seeing this hilarious video pop up on photography blogs poking fun at the negotiating tactics of art buyers when dealing with Photographers. If you haven't seen it take a couple of minutes to watch it before you read where my twisted sense of humor went with it after I stopped laughing... I'll wait.

Funny wasn't it? The business photography side of me is officially nominating that video for an academy award, it's brilliant. However, the start-up business side of me started thinking about shooting it from another angle to shine a little revelation on a couple of other things I see popping up on photography blogs lately. Since I lack the skills and equipment to literally create a comparable video I'll just have to share my alternate script and let you your mind fill in the scene as you read.

So here is the scene: Two men in suits walk into the restaurant and the one in the lead asks for a table...

"Excuse me sir, before we seat you, is this a business or personal lunch?"

"What difference does it make?"

"Well, we charge more for commercial use of our menu items."

"Ok, well, to be perfectly honest it's business, but how much more is that going to cost me?"

"It depends sir, we can either have our waiter monitor your conversation and charge a small royalty fee per topic discussed or we can charge you an exorbitant 30 minute licensing fee and you can discuss as many topics as you want in that time frame."

"But it's the same food, how can you justify those charges?"

"It's a proven fact that eating with a client establishes trust that often leads to higher profits. We feel that we should be entitled to some of those profits since you are using our menu items to gain that trust."

"What? Where did you come up with that idea? The restaurant across the street doesn't do that, and their food is cheaper."

"Yes, we know. They've been undervaluing the business lunch model for years. Some feel they are wrecking the whole industry but we're not concerned. They will be gone in a year along with the rest of the dollar menu vermin plaguing the industry. It's a non-sustainable business model you know. Chefs and waitstaff should never be undervalued like that."

"Undervalued... Chef's? Isn't the average dollar menu cook just a high school student with a fancy spatula?"

"No, they are food artists and should be pricing themselves accordingly."

"Well, the restaurant across the street doesn't have a dollar menu but there is an hour wait and we don't have that kind of time so I guess we're stuck."

"Very well sir, if you will just sign this model release, we'll seat you right away."

"Model release? What the heck is that for?!"

"We'll be tweeting and posting videos of our staff serving you lunch today to illustrate our fabulous service and chic clientele. It's all the rage you know."

"So you're essentially planning to use me in your marketing right? Do I get paid for that?"

"You're a funny man sir. That sense of humor could really take you places in this business. We have an opening in our waitstaff intern program if you are interested."

"Waitstaff internship program? What's that pay?"

"Pay? Ha, again with the humor... It's an internship sir. You will be trained by some of the top talent in the business. Our interns are lucky we don't charge them!"

"You don't pay them?"

"Well, there's a small salary for the one's who've proven themselves but the real value is in the education."

"But doesn't that undervalue them?"

"No, working cheap undervalues them, working for free under a trained professional teaches them how to value themselves correctly."

"Really? I learned how to do that by going out on my own and busting my tail for chump change until I figured it out and built a big enough client base to start charging what I was worth."

"Ah, I see. No formal training then? That would explain why you lack the sophistication to understand our business model. I'm sorry but we are a business lunch restaurant catering to real business men. Perhaps you'll find the dollar menu across town more suited to your taste."

"Yes, perhaps I will. Then again, I'm a businessman and it sounds like there's a lot of money to be made here. I'm starting to think I might just open my own restaurant. I cook at home all the time, how hard could it be?..."