Repetition. Same, Not Same.

One morning, several years ago when I was living in Maine, I decided to take my camera over to Mackworth Island. I'd been there many times, it's not far from where I lived. It's not a big island, you can circle it on a shore trail in a couple of hours, and there is causeway access. Before I left I knocked on a neighbor's door, a fellow photography enthusiast, and invited him to join me. He declined, saying that he'd photographed there once already and saw no point in returning. I reminded him that the light is always different, the tide would be different, the wild life different, and so on, but there was no convincing him. I went solo and made one image that day, a photo I am still pleased with. 

In 1957 the great photojournalist W. Eugene Smith moved into a loft in lower Manhattan after spending four years on a documentary project in Pittsburgh, a project that was supposed to take just three weeks. His combat photojournalism, along with the self-described failure of the Pittsburgh project had taken a toll. He seldom left the loft, instead inviting jazz musicians to visit while recording and photographing them. His so-called Loft Project lasted eight years and he recorded over 4000 hours of music and made over 40,000 photographs, largely of his neighborhood, photographing pedestrians and traffic out his window.

Deanna Dikeman, from the years 1991 to 2007, photographed her parents waving goodbye as she pulled out of their driveway in Sioux City, Iowa. The collection, now labeled Leaving and Waving, is a beautiful and lovely tribute to family, as well as a brilliant execution of creative insight. Dikeman writes, "I just took these photographs as a way to deal with the sadness of leaving. It gradually turned into our good-bye ritual. And it seemed natural to keep the camera busy, because I had been taking pictures every day while I was there."

Repetition typically puts us to sleep. We avoid it as best we are able. Instead, as creative individuals we seek the new and inspiring. I have above, however, shared three examples of how repetition can foster creative rewards. In Zen there is a thing called Beginner's Mind. It is sometimes referred to as the art of not knowing, a practice towards openness such that everything appears fresh and appreciated. When faced with creative repetition consider the practice of seeing deeply. Nurture your beginner's mind and attempt to penetrate the facade of boredom that repetition presents. Getting to the core of things is rich with reward.

Thanks for reading. If you know anyone who might appreciate these missives please forward accordingly. You can find me at Glass Photo or my website, Doug Bruns Photography.