I posted this probably a year or so ago.
I then deleted it.
If you read it you’ll see that I’m finding it harder than I initially thought.
Round2, same post, realised the other posts are nothing without this one.
It all matters.
New to photoblog as I am, there is the temptation to find yet another platform to create an online identity that is not reflective of flaws, mistakes and the strive for perfectionism.
I have found myself only wanting to upload the pictures of the highest quality, with the most eloquence and style. The most professional in order to keep up with the others who post on this very impressive site.
Yet the obtaining of this non truthful standard is exhausting. Some good pictures get taken yes. But so so many more are fails, utterly embarrassing for anyone claiming to be into photography, and the opposite of professional.
They are the person learning and exploring.
I forced myself at the end of my last bird post to include some of the lesser photo edited pictures, some of the pictures that actually captured the essence of my experience, that remind me of the emotions I had experienced at the time.
They were the less professional pictures; the ones with the birds in flight. The standing still ones were easier for me to make look wonderful. The really moving ones I still haven't mastered yet.
Even now I am tempted to remove them and upload a few more of the better standing ones I did not include.
But to what purpose? I would loose the memory of what really made that day so special.
To me, it is so important to live by truth.
Its so easy to loose it at any moment in this world we live in. One must constantly fight for it.
Today, I upload a picture of myself taken via my laptop camera.
Not for any other reason, that to stop hiding behind the visage of perfection.
The idea of being a mysterious person capable of amazing pictures (or so I like to believe when they come out well).
Photography is a weird thing. Because although we take the picture. The beauty, the power within it, the essence of whatever we captured, belongs to all and none of us simultaneously.
Every human relates to the same picture in a unique way. Every human finds meaning in differing degrees within different pictures. I assume most times the photographer did. But we have no idea on the effect it has on another.
We never know if the picture we once took became a life changing image for another. Moved a thought, set of a chain in another.
Henri Cartier-Bresson's pictures always had a big effect on me as I was starting my interests in photography.
They were moody, secretive, and left much for interpretation.
Unspoken is often powerful. An essay like this is the opposite.
However, to live without an ego dominating, to know that the meaning for your pictures is more than self-gratification means dropping the mystery.
Showing the good, the bad, the ugly, and still standing tall.
I hope I can continue to find a path that keeps me true to truth.