Intentionality

I was reading an article about how you would measure yourself as a photographer -- amateur to professional... And there was a long discussion about how people move through those stages, and how to "measure" where you are.

Well, that article, along with considering my reaction to some photos I have taken and a long thought process about Ansel Adams (sparked by an unexpectedly foggy New River valley on my way to West Virginia a couple weeks ago), resulted in me realizing that I will feel less like a lucky bastard when it comes to pictures than when I realize that 75% of the pictures that I feel are great are the result of intentional acts on my part.

That was a long damn sentence. I am very sorry, Mrs. Nesbitt -- wherever you are, for that run on sentence. You taught me better... I'm certain some editor friend of mine will fix that for me before the week is out...

I am trying to be more deliberate about the pictures I take. This morning I sat at the lake near my parents' house for about 20 minutes trying to construct a photograph I would like involving the water, the fog, the reflection of the trees in the water and the aura of the early light. And I could put nothing together that pleased me. I was already in a bad mood and it just seemed to never get on the rails for me this weekend. Ugh.

Before I left town, I noticed this old, old apple tree near my brother's house, and stood there for about three minutes, and was actually pleased with at least three of the ten or so shots I took, and I was actually thoughtful about what I wanted and that seemed to reaffirm my theory about intentionality in my art.

The rest of the day sucked -- except for the time I spent with the kids. Tomorrow will be a better day, I pray.

night, friends, readers...