Smart Pills and Epicurean Knowledge

In running Photo News Today, I see and read what other photographers are doing. What's also fun is to see how many other photographers post information in the form of tutorials and general how-to articles/blogs.

When I was starting, many years ago, in the age of film, we "protected" techniques, including marketing ideas. That was a different time and a different way of working.

At PhotoPlus Expo in New York last week, I had an opportunity to speak with Derrick Story about this very subject. First, I have to tell you that Derrick is a lot taller than I expected; a lanky, well over six feet something (I'm a short 5' 10").

Derrick said he sometimes has to find the time to sit and write or produce podcasts. Any successful professional would be hard-pressed to add new tasks to an already busy schedule and, that they do, bodes well for us; after all, a rising tide lifts all boats.

The global encyclopedia of the Internet has become a master course of photography and imaging--no photographer can afford to be without Internet access.

There are some photo bloggers I need to read everyday, because their content usually contains some nugget worth remembering. David Hobby, with his Strobist blog, who has almost single-handidly bootstrapped using hot-shoe flashes (strobes) off camera. I bet David could teach you how to back-light the sun!

Another is Scott Kelby. How the hell does this guy have the time to blog, I don't know. Scott runs NAPP (National Association for Photoshop Professionals), writes books, teaches, has a band, shoots, and probably has a secret identity, where he saves the world.

Add to the above many more professional photographic bloggers, such as David Tejada, John Harrington, Chase Jarvis, Dave Cross, Matt Kloskowski and on and on and you have some high powered talent sharing themselves.

There has never been a better time to be in this industry and never a better time than right now to improve your skill set and then pay it back, by creating your own Internet presence--be sure to include a blog and then let me know where I can find you.

The Doctor Is In

At gatherings, it used to be the doctor getting all the questions and complaints about pain and unease. That has changed over the past years and now it's the digital photographer getting the "house" calls.

Besides the ubiquitous, "What camera should I buy?"; we're getting more substantive questions about printers, lenses and other photographic paraphernalia. And we answer these without a degree!

I've spoken to some photographers that revel in the attention, sometimes holding court as the expert in the house. Others shy from the limelight, unsure about what to say or feeling inadequate about giving advice.

One of the predictions I made a few years ago has come true this past year; digital single-lens reflex cameras coming down in price, well under the magic $1,000.00 barrier. They are now almost to the price point of 35mm cameras, prior to when digital technology made film cameras almost redundant.

Last night a friend called me, ready to purchase a new family camera and wanted some help in making her decision. She has two teenage children, that play soccer, and needs a camera with enough lens to get some images of the kids playing, but also be able to take the regular family vacation and birthday pictures.

The photographic industry has a wide cache of available camera models and the DSLR models span far more manufacturers today than ever before. Most of the time, when I hear others answering a prospective buyer's questions, I sense a bias towards the photographer's current camera model.

I believe I need to remain agnostic to brand and really listen to the questions, before offering opinions and, when I do, have anecdotal evidence handy to back up my claims. Especially in the current economic climate, I think it's important to give a prospective buyer the benefits of practical knowledge encompassing both an entry level expenditure, as well as a road-map for future purchases.

For instance, does a home/hobbyist photographer need $600-$800 zoom lenses, when a less expensive one will suffice, and a road-map which will include the possibility of adding third-party brands, such as Sigma, Tamron, Tokina? What benefit would a family derive from a full-frame sensor over that of an APS-C sensor (wouldn't the magnification factor be an advantage for the soccer-mom)?

It's far easier if you are speaking with other professional photographers, as you can toss around technical terminology, knowing you both are speaking a common language. People just entering the digital camera market usually have a limited vocabulary based on film cameras or just point-and-shoot models.

Last night, Mrs. Soccer-Mom and I had a long conversation about her needs; how she viewed using the camera; and came to some conclusions. She decided to buy a Nikon D40 and an 18-135mm zoom as her starter package.

The Photo Circus

Every year I take a day to myself and travel to New York City to go to the PhotoPlus Expo at the Javits Center. A few years ago, I had to work to get a few meetings with some of the exhibitors. I should say, at this point, that I own and run Photo News Today (http://www.photonewstoday.com) a site reporting on photography news.

As it took many emails and telephone calls to secure these meetings, I have always limited myself to spending just one day at this event. This year, however, I had my day completely booked, except for an hour (which was intentional) by the 2nd week of October.

There were only two "misfires" where the meetings didn't happen. HP compeltely blew me off, the meeting room locked at the appointed time and, when I went out to the exhibit area, all of the HP personnel were too busy talking to one another and some other visitors, to pay me any attention.

The other misfire was with Jason from the PR firm representing Bogen Imaging. However, here the Bogen representatives went out of their way to approach me and assist. Jason was late, because of car parking issues, so I rescheduled it for part of my one hour opening. A little later in the day, I had a few minutes to spare, and went to the Bogen booth to look at a photographer's jacket (somewhat expensive, but really nice - I want one!) and, standing there, just outside the exhibit area I started talking to the gentleman next to me and, looking down at his badge, saw it was Jason. I introduced myself and teased him about the missed appointment, but assured him I would still make our later meeting.

These two companies show a good contrast in support. On one hand, HP which has had customer support problems in the past, seemed aloof and couldn't be bothered to welcome me to their display area and there were plenty of HP-shirted people doing nothing. On the other hand, Bogen Imaging, a distributor of premier photographic equipment (Metz, Manfrotto, and so forth) greeted me warmly and then took my problem upon themselves and worked to rectify it, apologizing all the way.

I have to say, I have had some experience with Bogen Imaging in the past where one of my Metz 54 MZ-3 strobes had to be repaired. The price was nominal and the service exceptional--one week door to door.

Look, we all make mistakes. The problem is not in making them, but in what you do to make it right. This separates great customer service from mediocre. How we treat potential and existing customers can spell the difference between having a growing, viable business and one just barely getting along. This is not to say HP is failing; far from it. I'm just using them as an example because of recent experience.

Sooner or later, if you are selling your photographic services and products, something is going to fall through the cracks. How you face problems like this characterize your business and also show the public the people behind the company; give it personality.

Here is another recent example. I had a canvas-wrap print made for my father-in-law. Upon receipt, I noticed, what was supposed to be a 16x20 was really an 8x10 centered on 16x20 white canvas. Not what I wanted. After a moment of frustration and a flash of anger, I realized the fault was mostly mine. I had sized the image using a program that created a print file and it had done what I asked, create a 16x20 "page" with the image centered. I should have re-sized the image, not the page.

I called Canvas On Demand and spoke to Sheila (she's not customer service, but in production. I met her at PhotoPlus Expo). During our conversation, I explained that I probably caused the problem, but, I continued, I would have thought someone at Canvas On Demand would have questioned the order as, with a canvas wrap, you want the image to wrap around the frame. Sheila agreed to re-print the order for me at no charge and I sent them a properly sized digital file later that day.

Again, when a customer has a problem, the solution determines not only the fix to that problem, but goes a log way to cement the relationship between customer and vendor.

Oh, late in the day at PhotoPlus Expo, when I was wandering around between meetings, Laura Evenson, the Director of Communications for ImageSpan, approached me and let me know, in a kind way, I had dropped the ball on scheduling a meeting with her. I all but groveled by apologizing and scheduled to meet her in 1/2 hour, after my next appointment.

We're going to screw up from time to time, but the screw-ups don't have to spell doom, they can actually be used to further your business, by creating positive relationships. The irony is a negative situation can be a positive influence on your business, if you work at it.

Helderberg Escarpment

Immediately prior to visiting the PhotoPlus Expo in New York, I went on a hike to Thatcher State Park, part of the Helderberg Escarpment, northwest of Albany, New York. This was the second time, in a week, I visited the same sections and grabbed some images.

My first hike through the wooded trails was with a few people from the local photographer meetup group and, on a sunny, warm (for upstate New York) day, the hiking was magnificent. We stayed on a level trail, so carrying equipment and moving about was no problem.

I left the group near after a few hours and, with my son, Zachary, drove to the overlook, where you can see a few small towns below the escarpment. I was on one leg of a "V", and, looking down and to my right, I could see the town of New Scotland laid out in a patchwork of fall colors. There are also a few homes speckled here and there and, when I looked at the images I took, I could clearly see the details of these homes--had there been anyone about, I would have been able to see them as well.

Initially, I had chosen one these images to give as a gift to my father-in-law, a wonderful photographer and friend of the arts. However, upon looking at a print, once I got home, I really didn't like seeing the homes and other remnants of civilization.

I had also taken some other images of the trees, in fall colors, on the other leg of the "V" and liked some of those compositions more. I settled on one such image to use until I watched the local weather report. The meteorologist said the Albany area had not yet peaked with the fall colors.

This area and other parts of New England are famous for "leaf-peeping" in late September and early October. This year, we had a particularly wet summer and expected great color.

Based on the weatherman's report, I decided to hold the image back from serious consideration until I could get back to Thatcher State Park during peak fall foliage. That, according to the report, would be the next week. So, I said a few prayers and scheduled a visit back the next weekend.

Originally, I had planned on taking the entire family, but my wife came down with a bad case of bronchitis and Zachary opted out. My daughter, Alex, 14, wanted to come, so she put on her preppie outfit (not something I would recommend for a hike, but what do I know... I'm just her Dad!) and we, along with Macbeth, our 94 pound dog, hiked for a few hours as I waited for a later afternoon sun.

The day was just as crisp as the previous week, but the temperature was slightly cooler; ideal hiking weather and a special time for me to spend alone with Alex.

A few hours later we drove back to the escarpment and I took out my Canon XTi and a 100-200mm f/4.5 zoom lens (and polarizing filter) I always carry about. I also had a 28-90mm, but don't really like it as much.

The weatherman was right as the colors were both more intense and there more trees that had put on their fall clothes. I shot mainly at 100mm and between f/11 and f/16 in RAW format (I now always shoot RAW). This is the picture you see at the top of this entry.

What About Mood?

A few weekends ago, I remember wanting to go out with the camera and spend some time just walking about. After breakfast, I went downstairs and started to sort my equipment and decide what I needed for a day's excursion.

Somehow, over the next hour, I lost interest or my mood changed; I really can't recall what happened, but I didn't leave the house.

The week before was one of high stress, where I worked long hours and traveled, on business, leaving me drained. Also, money was tight and my wife nagged about the difficulties of having enough, to pay all the bills.

The events from the previous week may have been triggers, but I know intellectually, getting out of the house with the camera has a calming effect and, over time, I would succumb to a more relaxed state and enjoy what I was doing. That's intellectually... Emotionally, I was drained and wanted nothing more than to sit back and read a trash novel. That day, emotions won over intellect.

How would I have handled this if I had had an assignment? Would my mental state have affected my ability to perform?

Late last night, I thought about this and and wrote down what some of the effects could have been.

1. Loss of focus (not camera)
2. Impatience
3. Loss of creativity
4. Prone to errors
5. Fatigue
6. Failure to fully plan and execute

...and so forth.

I know, from past experience, I would have come around sometime during the assignment, but is there some way to start the assignment in a better mood?

I think there are some things we can do to help ourselves move our emotions to the better end of the scale. Getting ready for an assignment is a ritual that puts our mind, for the moment, on thinking about what we need for the shoot. During this time, we isolate ourselves from everything, but the immediate, and put ourselves into a future where we visualize setting up for the assignment and getting the images. It's only when we have everything packed that the troubles of the day intrude.

I believe if we were to have some way to occupy ourselves between the packing and the actual shoot, we could stay in the moment. This is the key—staying in the moment and not dwelling on the past or thinking about the future allowing negative thoughts to surface.

Thinking about what if I do this or that, when the troubles occupy our thoughts, is what I call "doing outcomes." The more we run scenarios (what if he says this, then I say...), the deeper we go into ourselves and away from the present. We use the past and forecast the future. We're everywhere but in the now, the present.

As long as we allow ourselves not to be present, to move away from what needs to be done now, we thwart our creativity and production. Even if we take a break, from these thoughts, to do the assignment, the outcome scenarios play in our mind, like a recording stuck on replay.

The key, therefore, is to remain present, using the ritual of getting ready to propel ourselves into the assignment. When we feel the outcomes beginning to intrude, we must use our technical skill to concentrate on what we are doing right now, to stay the wolves of deception.

After a while, we will have taught ourselves a technique (just as valuable as a new photographic skill) which becomes automatic. This, then, is the direction I want to go and, if it works with photography, it should work in my every-day life.

Zen and The Shutter

Pick up your camera and aim it at something you want to photograph. What do you see? Do you look at the subject and how it fits within the composition? Do you look to gauge the exposure or deviation from it? Are you consciously discussing exposure variables with yourself?

If you are a gut shooter, then you take pictures without too much analyzing—just point the camera and, if it looks right, press the shutter. There is nothing wrong with this and it's commonly called shooting by instinct. For some people, this type of shooting is the only method they know.

Others take a more methodical approach and note the direction of light, quality of light, shadows and highlights, as well as the composition. Some of the time, I shoot this way. Now, this is not to say that there isn't some instinctual imaging along the way. Usually, I can feel when I have a subject in front of the camera that's worth an image. This is especially true when I photograph people, specifically portraiture. There's a moment, suspended in time, where I slip into a state of allowing the subject to "command" me; where the subject is not thinking about being in front of a camera, but reacting to an inner thought or some other stimulus. That elusive moment is what I'm after and I need to release myself from being a photographer, remove myself from consciously pushing the shutter and just allow my subconscious to take over and press the shutter for me. If I mentally keep running through the technical details, I'll surely miss the moment.

Before this can happen, however, I need to have spent some time creating the environment. I make certain most all distractions are out of the way, maybe put on some non-intrusive music and set the lighting the way I want it.

Once I've taken this time, prior to the picture-taking-event, to eliminate as many variables as I can, I slip into the moment and let my mind press the shutter. Can I do this when I'm not in the studio?

After so many years with a camera, I can put myself in the mood to photograph without thinking of how I do it. It's natural for me. Upon reaching a location, I take some time to study the lighting—which direction is it coming from, what's the quality&mdhas;mid-day sun, cloudy, shade, evening/dawn&mdhas;what do my shadows look like and how deep are they? Where is the transition between full-on light and shadow?

This front-end analysis is necessary for me to digest the variables. Then, I make some decisions and allow the left part of my brain to rest while I put the right side to work. I can now concentrate on the composition of my subject. I can also move to shoot more from the gut than otherwise. Since I've taken the time to make the variables as much a constant as I can, I no longer need to be actively thinking of them.

I'm not so totally divorced from these variables that I fail to notice whether any of them change. If the light varies, which it does constantly, I adjust (mostly automatic). If the wind picks up, I'll need to increase my shutter speed, and so forth.

Think about Zen. In practice, you should be able to trust all that experience you've gathered&mdashthe technical part of photography, the nature of the light—knowing that your subconscious will be able to make the decision of when to push the shutter.

You can only get to this level if you've done your homework and made some mistakes. Mistakes, for the most part, are learning tools. I say "for the most part," as some are just mistakes and little or no learning comes from them. However, there are those serendipitous events, we call mistakes, that, when they happen, lead to riches of knowledge and add to your experience.

These learning events don't happen in a vacuum. They happen when you're ready to accept and assimilate them into your current abilities. In other words, you build one upon another to create your full body of experience, which then becomes the foundation for the next event.

What's the next step? Trust. For all of this to work, you must trust that that which you've already mastered has become one with you (or, to speak of it in SciFi terms; Robert Heinlein [Stranger in a Strange Land] would say "grok it." You draw upon this without the effort of making a thought. I'll state that shooting by the gut (or instinct, if you like that word better), for an experienced photographer, is not really shot-gunning, as I called it in the top of this blog entry. It's shooting while trusting the base of knowledge. It's trusting that part of you that is seeing with the "third eye," the eye inside your head. When you can learn to trust the inner eye, you begin to concentrate more on your subject, watching for the signs of your image coming into the moment, immediately before your finger presses the shutter, seemingly without effort. The time when your mind says Now!

Photography and Golf

I don't play golf. Although I sometimes enjoy watching others, I really don't have the time to devote to the game.

A few days ago, I was looking at some of the files on my computer—doing a little housekeeping—and noticed, not for the first time, how many programs and plugins I have for image editing. I guess I haven't really thought about it much over the past months, but there it was, folder after folder, full of applications to help me get the best out of my photography.

When I shoot, my adage is always to always get "it" in the camera, not fix it later in the computer. So, why, I thought, do I need all these?

My housekeeping devolved into taking inventory and investigating my cache. I wanted to keep only those applications I thought really necessary, but should I go towards minimalism, keeping only what I thought necessary? But what if I need some of these later? Maybe, instead of deleting the majority of these assets, I should move them to a CD/DVD. Then, if I really find myself wanting a particular program in the future, I'll have it at hand.

This is where I see similarities between photography and golf. We both collect all sorts of items purporting to make our game better. From a moon-dust-alloy putter to digital film-grain enhancer-noise removal tool, all of these, I believe, take us away from the target—playing golf and taking pictures.

The question remaining is do these trinkets make us better or lazy? Are they sitting in our mind as crutches, which we use just in case we aren't as good as we thought? In other words, are they confidence drainers?

Remember when we were new to photography and all we had was the camera we had, not the camera we wanted? When we could dream of the pro model financially out of our reach. Then, we had to make good use of our limited resources and so we concentrated on making the best images we could. Photography was fun and we were able to discover methods to make images with only our beat-up camera, one lens, and a few filters and a tripod.

That's what I want to get back to; the sheer fun of discovery, pushing our limits to determine what we could get away with; to not play it safe!

So, did I throw away a small collection of files? I'm not going to tell you as I don't want to influence your thoughts—you're going to have to make decisions for yourself.

I will tell you I went out last weekend and hiked through Thatcher Park (near Albany, New York USA) and had a lot of fun, shooting for the sheer pleasure of shooting, knowing I had just what I needed and nothing more.