A few miles down the road from me there is a certain tree that, through no intentional planning, I have come to photograph multiple times in recent years. In some cases I've even made pictures with nearly identical compositions, the primary differences being in the time of year and the time of day. I visit the tree as part of a larger project I've been working on, but in considering this larger project the pictures of the tree have become a punctuation of sorts.
I have only realized the repetition of this picture of this tree since I've started to go through all of my pictures from this project. This what the process of editing can do - and often does - it can reveal something you didn't know while you were photographing. In this case it appears that this spindly tree, situated just as it is, its environs being just as integral to the picture, is something I could not ignore.
The thing that is more difficult, that editing sometimes cannot reveal, is when to walk away. The question always remains - is there a better picture to be made? (The answer is always yes, but at what cost?) While there is certainly a better picture lurking in the future, as I've gone through what I have from this place, I see that I've taken enough from this tree, this scene, this pond, this little old carved out ditch. Without any way of really knowing, it seems like it's time to walk away from this place (with camera, at least), to leave it to evolve and - next time I visit, to maybe not make a photograph, to free myself up to the other places I've been exploring.
I used to find more motivation in trying to take an idea to it's complete and utter logical conclusion, but as I've written before, I am becoming more and more suspicious that puts the idea in greater danger of falling apart - dissolving completely though overworking. I have started to see it in my own work.
When you walk away is just as important as what you choose to engage with, no? I've always been taught - implicitly or explicitly - that more work is better. More tries yields more success. Keep at it. But now I think about how to tread lightly. To not push so hard. To take what comes. To recognize the good in front of me without trying to have it be better all of the time. The possible future is such a strong distraction from the certain now.
This tree has been a gift for me, so I thank it for that. Sometime soon I am sure I will notice others in a similar way...actually, I think I already have one in mind.
Nov 3, 2022 9:34 AM
May 18, 2024 11:24 AM
Jan 31, 2025 9:17 AM
Nov 10, 2024 1:42 PM
(An alternate vantage point)
Nov 3, 2022 8:29 AM