A question to a muse

Once upon a time I used to go out for a shoot, on purpose. I would pack my gear in a specialist camera bag with lenses, camera bodies, rolls of unexposed film, tripod and a variety of graduated and neutral density filters and other miscellaneous paraphernalia and go out to make photos. One camera body was loaded with black and white film the other with Velvia slide film. I would plan ahead of time exactly where I was going usually timing it with the appropriate weather condition or the appropriate time of day (or night) for whatever type of image I was planning to do.

I don’t do that anymore.

I no longer go out to shoot on purpose, I don’t carry a bag of gear with me. Technology has made film redundant as far as I’m concerned. I don’t care much about the weather or even the time of day for that matter. I have one camera, one lens, one memory stick and a protective pouch to put it in. That’s it. I tend to have this small amount of gear with me most times I go out. When I go out it’s to do something which is not photography related. I go out to work, to do groceries, to the movies, to play with my kids, to dine out with my wife, to take the car in for a service, to meet with friends but I don’t go out to make photographs. Photograph making is simply a by-product of all the other activities I do if I happen to have my camera with me. Sometimes zero photos get created and other times four or five. Or less. This is in contrast to the days I used to shoot on purpose and go through 2-4 rolls of 36 exposures.

Strangely enough my success rate (by my standard) is higher now than before. As a bonus I don’t get upset if no opportunities presented themselves; I wasn’t looking for any. I don’t get depressed if what I end up with is mediocre; I didn’t have any expectations. I don’t come home grumpy because I failed to create something special; I wasn’t trying to do anything.

Now I am not suggesting that this is a better way to photograph or that camera gear that goes beyond body and lens is superfluous. Not at all. For what its worth, I am not suggesting anything. My little revelation about how I do things is purely as an introduction to a question that has arisen directly out of my changed attitude to the way I make images.

Why do I make pictures when I go out even though I have no real intent to make pictures?

Looking at the question written down like this it’s easy to think that this is a nonsense question. By that I mean that on the surface it looks like the answer could be any of a long list of potential answers: Because the crack in the pavement was interesting… because the parallel lines created a well balanced image… because the light was nice… because the juxtaposition of lines and textures created a nice graphic scene… because I was bored…

But let us put that long list of possible reasons aside. What I am asking is: What compels me to point my camera and press the shutter button when I had no intent, leading up to that moment, to take a picture?

No one really knows how it is that a photographer presses down on a shutter button at a particular time and place rather than any other time or place. Andy Ilachinski explores this in his blog post “The Click of the Shutter Button…and A Deep Mystery”. The fact remains that at some point in time and space I am compelled to press the shutter button of my camera and make an image. Discussing this with friends – ones with an artistic bend – I find that generally this particular mystery is simply put down to inspiration. Artists more often than not, can readily identify what inspires them to create. Their muse may be the face of a loved one, or the sound of rain on a tin roof, or the smell of coffee in the morning. It may come from another artist or it may come from a personal experience or even from a need to put food on the table in the case of a struggling commercial artist. Rarely though, in my experience, will an artist admit to creating without inspiration. It’s almost as if this would be admitting to an effect without a cause. I recently read that singer/songwriter Amy Winehouse is unable to complete her new album since she cleaned up her life. Living a “clean” life free of self-abuse and bad relationships is apparently not very inspiring to Amy. It wouldn’t be the first time that pain and suffering has inspired an artist and if that’s what’s been stoking your creative fires for long enough a new fuel source may just smother the flames rather than turn on the heat. Like using ethanol in a car that was designed to run on premium unleaded.

So it would appear that inspiration, wherever it comes from, causes us to create. And we certainly are a creative lot. Look around and creativity is everywhere. Not always of artistic note but creative nonetheless. Just look at the Internet. It would seem we are built to create. But why? Why this need for creativity? Does the urge come from outside ourselves or from within? And for everything that is created, be it a blog post, a new Veyron, an architectural marvel, a photograph, there has to be a reason, a driver, an inspiration. Right? I mean there has to be a reason for pressing down on the shutter button. Right? How else do we explain this mystery? How else do I answer my question?

Question: What compels me to point my camera and press the shutter button when I had no intent, leading up to that moment, to take a picture?

Answer: Inspiration.

There, done. So why does this feel like a cop out? Why do I feel cheated with that neat little answer? Because I’m no wiser. Inspiration… it’s just a word. And for the most part I don’t even know what my inspiration is. I’m not an artist. I make my living supporting computer systems. I have no need to make photos. I am not even sure if I have a desire to do so. Like everyone else I have a desire for fun and joy and I will admit that making photographs is a fun and joyful experience but it’s just a means to an end. I also like running. I could substitute photography with more running. I am quite certain that if I was to stop making images I would feel no void, no regret. I simply would no longer be making images. And yet I continue to do so.

The photos accompanying this post were taken in the same area, a place called Southbank in Brisbane where I live. This particular area has a cosmopolitan feel to it. Cafes, restaurants and galleries amongst residential apartments and just next to a riverside park. The first three photos were taken when I met with friends for lunch. The last was taken on my way home from work. Now, another little revelation of how I do things. I usually don’t think about or examine too closely, any image I take until after I’ve processed them. After processing I will look at them with as much of an open mind as I can have and watch whatever thoughts come by. The image of the pavement with the crack took me back to my childhood when I had a fascination with cracks on pavements and I would play “don’t step on any cracks”. The one called “mantra on Grey” got me thinking about the rigidity with which many people follow their personal mental mantras, the red light signifying how a mantra, a belief, that becomes a dogma can stop you from moving on. The one of the bar got me thinking about perspective and how depending on where you’re at, physically and mentally, some things can be hidden from view making all judgements somewhat questionable since we can never know what is hidden. The fourth image, of the window, reminded of some paintings by a painter and left me frustrated at not being able to recall the artist’s name. So… Was I inspired by childhood memories, philosophical books I may have read years ago, moral principles, some forgotten artist? Or did the image just happen for no particular reason with no particular driver and only after the image was made did I find a reason, an inspiration. I should point out that at the time of pressing the shutter I had not noticed the word “mantra” on the side of the building or the crack on the pavement. But I took the photos anyway. Why? I’ve no idea. The concept of cause and effect is so ingrained that it is difficult to accept an effect without a cause and so perhaps at a subconscious level the connections were made upon seeing each scene thus making me take the picture. And of course that leads to a whole bunch of other questions about the subconscious and I don’t want to get into that.

One thing is clear though, I don’t have an answer. I don’t know what drives me to make a photograph but I suspect that there is a small possibility that at times “creating” just happens for no reason whatsoever, for its own sake you might say, and then I step in and find a muse in order to explain a mystery that for the most part is perhaps impossible to grasp with the mind. Maybe the inspiration and the inspired, the muse and the artist are intertwined, interconnected with the perceived world and in that momentary oneness “creating” happens. Maybe sometimes the universe just wants to notice itself.

And for those times where we feel uninspired perhaps a muse is still right there unseen behind the mental noise of the mind as we attach ourselves to each passing thought. But let the thoughts drift by and there, in the gaps between the thoughts, lies that which makes us press the shutter.