One Photograph Can't Tell the Whole Story

Suppose someone found one photograph of mine and knew nothing else about me. What would that single image tell them? Podcast Notes:  https://www.moneymakerphotography.com/one-photograph-cant-tell-the-whole-story/ Photography Clips Podcast: https://moneymakerphotography.com/podcast/ Music From the Doctor's Office: https://musicfromthedoctorsoffice.com

This was my perspective earlier this week. I found myself on the crow's nest floor with my feet up, trying to figure out what to do next. To explain how I ended up there, I have to go back several months... Podcast Notes: https://www.moneymakerphotography.com/crohns-disease-prednisone-loophole/ Photography Clips Podcast: https://moneymakerphotography.com/podcast/ Music From the Doctor's Office: https://musicfromthedoctorsoffice.com

I recently attended a wedding as a guest, and afterward I had a chance to look through some of the photographs taken by the wedding photographer. One detail kept pulling my attention away from everything else. The bride's dress didn't look white. It had a tan cast, almost as if a light sepia tone had been applied to the image. Maybe that was part of the photographer's style. Some photographers like warm skin tones, softened greens, faded shadows, and a vintage look. I understand that. We all make choices that shape the way our photographs look. But I kept coming back to the dress because I remembered it differently. I remembered it as white... Podcast Notes: https://www.moneymakerphotography.com/was-her-dress-white/ Photography Clips Podcast: https://moneymakerphotography.com/podcast/ Music From the Doctor's Office: https://musicfromthedoctorsoffice.com

After all these years of photography, I know what will make me stop. A beautiful sunset can do it. So can wildlife, a waterfall, an old building, an interesting street, or a moment that suddenly comes together in front of me. Sometimes it's the light more than the subject. I can be driving somewhere and notice the way late afternoon light is hitting a field or the side of a building, and immediately I start wondering whether there's a photograph there. That's what experience does. The more we photograph, the faster we become at recognizing the things that interest us. But recently I started wondering about something I hadn't really considered before. What have I become good at walking past? That question caught me off guard because I've always thought of experience as something that helps me see more. After decades with a camera, I notice light differently. I pay attention to backgrounds, angles, colors, expressions, weather, and small changes in a scene that someone without a camera may never think about. Still, there has to be another side to that. If I've spent years learning what catches my eye, then I've probably spent just as many years deciding, often without realizing it, what doesn't. Think about all the things we see during an ordinary day. Parking lots. Shopping carts. Utility poles. Hospital hallways. Gas stations. Store windows. Empty chairs. Driveways. Road signs. Someone's hands while they're working. A coffee cup left on a table after the person has gone. Most of the time, I wouldn't think about taking my camera out for any of those things. I'd just keep walking... Podcast Notes: https://www.moneymakerphotography.com/photography-blind-spots/ Photography Clips Podcast: https://moneymakerphotography.com/podcast/ Music From the Doctor's Office: https://musicfromthedoctorsoffice.com

For the last few weeks, I've caught myself doing something I don't normally do. I'll open a map and start looking around. Not because I have somewhere I need to go. Just because part of me wants to. I find myself looking at mountain roads in West Virginia, waterfalls in North Carolina, little historic towns, state parks, and places I've never visited before. Before long, I'm imagining what it would be like to get up before sunrise, grab my camera, and spend the day exploring wherever the road happens to take me. Then, almost as quickly as those thoughts appear, another thought follows. "You can't do that right now." There's work to do. There are projects waiting. There are deadlines that don't move simply because I'm feeling tired. And then there's my mom... Podcast Notes: https://moneymakerphotography.com/do-i-give-myself-permission-to-get-away/ Photography Clips Podcast: https://moneymakerphotography.com/podcast/ Music From the Doctor's Office: https://musicfromthedoctorsoffice.com

There is a strange point in learning photography when instruction begins to work against you. At first, advice is useful. You learn how aperture changes depth of field, how shutter speed affects motion, and how light shapes a subject. You begin to understand the camera instead of merely hoping it gives you something usable. Then the advice keeps coming. Every image should have a clear subject. The shadows should be opened. The highlights should be protected. The background should be simplified. The colors should be corrected. The horizon should be straight. The eyes should be sharp. The crop should follow one rule or another. None of that is useless. The problem begins when you stop looking at the photograph and start checking whether it obeys everything you have been told. I have caught myself doing this... Podcast Notes: https://www.moneymakerphotography.com/why-we-keep-photographs/ Photography Clips Podcast: https://www.moneymakerphotography.com/podcast/ Music From the Doctor's Office: https://musicfromthedoctorsoffice.com

Every now and then, I look back through old photographs and wonder why I kept certain ones. Not the obvious ones. Not the family photographs, birthdays, holidays, faces, or moments that clearly belong in the archive. Those explain themselves. I understand why they are there. I am thinking more about the quiet images. A road. A tree. A field. A lake. A building I passed once. A patch of light on an ordinary afternoon. At first, some of those photographs do not seem to say very much. They may not be strong enough for a print. They may not belong in a portfolio. They may not be something I would show to anyone else and expect them to understand why I made them. But I kept them. That alone makes me stop and think... Podcast Notes: https://www.moneymakerphotography.com/why-we-keep-photographs/ Photography Clips Podcast: https://www.moneymakerphotography.com/podcast/ Music From the Doctor's Office: https://musicfromthedoctorsoffice.com

Beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, but attention is not automatic. That is something I think about more and more when it comes to photography. We can make the photograph. We can print it, post it, frame it, share it, and send it out into the world. But none of that means anyone is required to stop and look. The viewer still has a choice... Podcast Notes: https://www.moneymakerphotography.com/earning-the-viewers-eye-in-photography/ Photography Clips Podcast: https://www.moneymakerphotography.com/podcast/ Music From the Doctor's Office: https://musicfromthedoctorsoffice.com  

I do not think a photograph has to be famous to change you. It does not even have to be understood by anyone else. Sometimes an image works on you privately. You see it once, and for some reason, it stays around in your mind. You may not know why at first. You may not be able to explain what it did. But later, when you are holding a camera and standing in front of something ordinary, you realize that the image has taught you how to look. That is the part of photography I keep coming back to... Podcast Notes: https://www.moneymakerphotography.com/images-that-changed-how-i-see/ Photography Clips Podcast: https://www.moneymakerphotography.com/podcast/ Music From the Doctor's Office: https://www.moneymakerphotography.com/music-from-the-doctors-office/

The camera only records what is in front of it, but the photograph begins before that. It begins when something makes me stop. Sometimes it is a certain kind of light. Sometimes it is a face in a crowd. Sometimes it is a shadow falling across a wall, making an ordinary place look different for a moment. Other times, it is something quiet that most people would walk past without giving it much thought. That is usually where photography starts for me. Not with the camera. Not with the settings. Not with trying to make something impressive. It starts with noticing. I have taken enough photographs to know that the first thing I see is not always the best photograph. Sometimes it is only the thing that gets my attention. The real photograph may be off to the side. It may be in the background. It may be in the light, the shape, the shadow, or the space around the subject rather than the subject itself. That is why I try not to rush. When something makes me stop, I want to give myself enough time to understand why. A strong photograph does not usually come from simply pointing the camera at something interesting. There needs to be a reason behind it. Sometimes that reason is clear right away. The sky looks heavy before a storm. A street has a lonely feeling. A person's expression says more than words could. A small object catches the light in a way that makes it seem more important than it did a minute earlier. Other times, I may not fully understand why something has my attention. I know there is something there. That is when I slow down and start working the scene. I look at it from one angle, then another. I ask myself what is really pulling me in. Is it the light? Is it the shape? Is it the mood? Is it the way everything seems ordinary, but still worth remembering? Podcast Notes: https://www.moneymakerphotography.com/thought-process-behind-every-photograph/ Photography Clips Podcast: https://www.moneymakerphotography.com/podcast/ Music From the Doctor's Office: https://www.moneymakerphotography.com/music-from-the-doctors-office/