I've been thinking a lot about how my work has been influenced, for better or for worse, by my constant engagement with the work of others and chasing the dopamine hits of sharing my work on social media. I've been wondering what the ramifications are of "quick and cheap" likes are when it comes to art, particularly when I look at the work of my favorite photographers of the past and how they had to operate by default since they did not have these networks; they simply had to wait for their film to develop and then work with publishers to get their work printed in books and magazines. They would go months, years at a time working on a project, unseen to the world until the collection was ready.
Take Josef Koudelka's Gypsies for example - this was a masterwork spanning 10 years, a collection of barely more than 100 photographs that he felt best represented the culture and plight of the Roma people. When I think about this, I think about the fact that I have never worked on something for even a fraction of this amount of time and effort; and of course, there are a multitude of reasons for this, but one thing stands out in particular:
It's pretty much the opposite of what is expected from us in this digital age. If you're not constantly engaged with the system, you can't possibly be expected to find any sort of "success" in your art.
I grew up with computers in my classrooms in the 90s (those color transparent iMacs were really something special), and I've only watched it accelerate as I've grown older. We're spoiled for choice when it comes to consuming photography, and because of this I watch many great photographers just get lost in the shuffle. I find myself scrolling by the works of some of my favorites just as quickly as anyone else, throwing my own cheap likes in and maybe a comment when something is particularly resonant for me.
I don't particularly like this about myself if I'm honest. This isn't how I want to engage with other people's art, let alone my own.
So I've been thinking about how to best correct this, and the best I've come up with is to distance myself; distance myself from the constant parading of my latest photos, desperate to get them out as quickly as possible in the hopes that someone, anyone will enjoy it. Distance myself from a race to the bottom of impatience and the constant stream of "content" just to satiate people who aren't actually engaging with the photos. As I mentioned in my recent post about my newfound desire to start collecting photobooks, I find much more value in sitting with each image for an amount of time that actually allows me to appreciate its value in the world and its impact on me as a person.
I also have several long-term projects in mind, and I'm hesitant to want to present much of them until they become whole; I may exhibit a few of them here and there, but I want to actually complete these projects. I want to create a body of work that I'm proud of and that I do not accidentally cheapen for myself. I have to constantly remind myself that I've only been doing this for a relatively short amount of time in the grand scheme of things, meaning I have many years ahead of me to pursue my craft if for nothing else than the enjoyment of it.
Right now, I think my goal is 3 months; 3 months of working by myself, maybe with the review and critique of those I trust to help me get a better sense of what I'm actually searching for. I want to hone not only my craft, but a vision of what I want my work to be and to represent, and to figure out how to communicate that effectively with others. Honestly, there is a decent chance that I may choose to extend this even further than just 3 months; if I could make it through half a year, I'm sure I would notice a world of difference; and I hope you would, too.
I'll certainly be keeping the site running as an online portfolio, and I'm still into the idea of writing blog posts every once in a while about my progress or any discoveries I find such as photographers that I come to enjoy.
But I do think that it's time to hit pause for now and recenter myself on why I enjoy this work as much as I do; I want to keep falling in love with it over and over again, and it's hard to do that with unnecessary pressures weighing at the back of my mind.
