Ezra waits for his brother
Micah waits for the bus.
I am starting a project where if you mail me a favorite printed photo you’ve taken, I’ll mail you a photo in return.
If you’re interested in adding to my collection, or in more details, email me at firstname.lastname@example.org
Starting today I think I will try and take at least one picture in black and white daily for the next month and post it here on this blog. Black and white photography has always intrigued me, and I don’t really know the ins and outs of what makes a good black and white photo. Overall, I feel that pictures of flowing waterfalls and portraits of people generally seem to look best in black and white. Sometimes you can use it as a cheat if things are just a bit too blurry in color to look good. Other times as I edit a picture I thought was going to turn out great in color, but I feel like it just doesn’t quite look like what I was expecting, I often change it into black and white and the picture really just seems to pop.
So come with me on this journey of discovering what makes a good black and white photo. Maybe I’ll take a couple good shots and by May 5th I’ll have a better understanding of black and white photography.
As the title of my blog indicates, I believe we oftentimes need to take a step back from our busy day-to-day lives in order to gain perspective and wisdom. We live in a busy society, and when we fail to reflect upon what we are experiencing we lose out on life lessons, insights, and other precious moments. So, in light of this, I am planning to have a weekly “Sunday Step Back” in which I post a picture (or maybe more) that I have taken along with a simple reflection from my own life.
This is my son. I’ve talked about him quite a bit on my blog, especially the anticipation of his coming into this world. I am studying for a MA in Counseling right now. I spend many hours reading about psychological issues, theories in counseling therapy, and all kinds of mental health issues. I must say, it’s a fascinating field of study. You can gain a lot of insight just from reading books about theories within counseling, but at the same time it’s absolutely horrifying. It’s not like it was in high school psychology class when everyone read about all the various mental and personality disorders and then self-diagnosed themselves with all kinds of rare mental disorders. It’s not like that. It’s more of reflecting on the dysfunction of various relationships in our lives, especially within our families. That’s where things get scary.
What’s horrifying about psychoanalytic psychology is that you begin to realize how much influence you have over your children’s development. And how much influence our parent’s had over our own development. It’s quite incredible. Sometimes I think that some of the things I read about are a bit farfetched, but generally speaking there is some solid empirical data to back up much of psychology’s claims to the various stages of development in children (and adults for that matter). How I interact with Micah (my son) is incredibly important. The more I read, the more I realize that.
So my goal is simply to be as consistently loving and caring for Micah as possible and to be as honest and transparent with him as I possibly can be as he grows older. One thing is for sure, studying counseling has made me a better husband and father, and a better person overall. My relationships with my friends and family have been much more meaningful and healthy since I have gained insight about myself and about how we as humans relate to one another.
So as Micah grows and discovers new things about this world and about other people I hope that I can be a consistent guide and example for him, helping him understand the complexities of what it means to grow up in this world. What it means to be a boy. What it means to be an American. What it means to have a mommy and a daddy who love each other. What it means to love other people. What it means to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly before God.
I love photojournalism. As an always learning photographer, I am trying to notice what kind of pictures make the best stories. There are constant photo contests being run by different organizations and websites, and I love to look at the top picks of those contests. I have noticed, beyond landscape pictures, frequently the photos that win are of people in dire situations or people caught in a moment of incredible emotion, usually grief or sadness. As a photographer, I look at those snapshots of moments of intense grief or loss with conflicting emotions. I can recognize the odd beauty found in seeing someone express an abundance of grief. I also feel that it feels too voyeuristic to be looking at someone in such a moment of intimate emotion.
Pictures are an incredible medium of art and expression because it is often hard to express with words why we like a picture beyond it being ‘beautiful’ or ‘amazing.’ But I will attempt to do so a bit now.
A photographer is able to give us a moment captured in time. It’s a bit unnatural. Often times we get to see things we would normally never see. Photography makes it possible. Photography also gives us the ability to hold on to what would otherwise be fleeting moments in time, whether it be those few seconds of pink sky as the sun sets, the moment LeBron James hits a buzzer beater to win a game, the collapse of a World Trade Center, or the face of someone laughing or crying. Each picture taken is a time capsule. Pictures often function as a time machine, tapping into the memory of all of our senses. This is just scratching the surface of what makes photography so great. Photography creates intrigue and interest.
As we experience great times of tragedy or loss as a country or community, all the news programs quickly grab their video cameras and “film” cameras to give us images to understand what is going on. Those of us who are not dealing with the tragedy personally don’t know what to do with how we are feeling. The Sandy Hook shooting didn’t actually affect my everyday world. I didn’t know anyone involved. I didn’t know anyone who knew anyone involved. Nothing changed that day for me. I still had my graduation to attend later that day. If I had not gotten on Facebook or turned on the TV that day, that Friday would have been no different than any other Friday. And even with the TV on, my Friday did not change much at all. It is because of this that I really didn’t even know how to feel. I wanted to feel sad, because of how horrible the tragedy was. And I did to a certain extent. But for a person who has no connection to those people or that community, or even that region of the United States I found it hard to be truly impacted. The only way that this becomes a reality for me is through pictures — whether it be photographs or video. I saw mothers and fathers screaming and crying. I saw video of students leaving the school, reminiscent of the Columbine shooting. Police remained stoic and poised while people around them were frantic and somewhat hysterical.
Days after the shooting we were shown the pictures of all the children killed — all smiling of course. Even now, anytime the Aurora shooting is brought up we are shown a crazed, wide-eyed, orange haired young man. We are also shown pictures of the families. Families looking confused. Individual family members looking distraught. And then we get a glimpse of the sorrow. We empathize. We begin to feel differently. That is the power of photography.
As a photographer I can appreciate this power. I realize the impact a single photo can make. People try to use this power all the time on Facebook to make people “like” or comment on things. The power of photography here is used usually as a guilt thing, though.
When I see photography that captures a moment of an individual’s mourning, I respect it’s power. I will say, however, I feel like I may be inappropriately entering into an intimate moment in someone’s life. I feel like I am stealing that intimacy away. The picture recreates that intimate moment every time someone looks at it, only they are now a participant. I personally believe this is why we are intrigued by such pictures. Normally, we would not feel that it would be appropriate to be viewing someone in such a moment. If we were physically present for such a moment, we would probably want to look at it but be driven to look away out of respect for that person’s privacy. Photography gives us the ability to view that intimate moment without offending the person directly.
So, should a photographer photograph such moments? Should a photographer use the power of the lens to give people the opportunity to have a glimpse into the intimate moments of other people’s lives? What is the responsibility of the photographer when dealing with this power?
Here is an article by NPR dealing with this very question:
I’m leaving these questions open because I am unsure of it myself. I do think it is healthy to be thinking about such questions. Then there are also the ethical questions of making money off of pictures showing people’s intimate moments of grief. But that is another discussion for another day.
Storm Front Over Deerfield, a set on Flickr.
Some pictures of a storm front that passed over Deerfield, Illinois as I was sitting at Starbucks. This is why I always have my camera with me wherever I go. You just never know when you might need it.