The Project and the Single Image, pt II

"Whatever story there is has to somehow be contained within each individual image."

~ Nikos Economopoulos, Magnum photographer,

Like many of us, I frequently drive the same route over and over. I go to the gym or the library or the market and I take the same road day after day. This is a deadening habit. It kills the eye, tamps down curiosity, and shuts down the senses. To avoid this, I have a practice whereby if possible I take a new and different route. It is not about getting to my destination quickly; it is about having fresh eyes. New vistas, whether close to home or far away, can open the eyes and inspire us into "seeing mode" which is a reach beyond "looking mode." Taking a different route kicks me into seeing mode. Practice number one.

Practice number two. Several years ago I developed a habit of pretending that I was someone else while running an errand, usually one of my cousins who lived far away. I would take on my cousin's being somehow and almost magically see things in a fresh and interesting way. My cousin Neal was a professional photographer, so to inhabit his perspective was to see like a photographer having a fresh experience, all senses awake and thirsty. Or so I pretended. You can play this game inserting anyone to your liking.

I could go on pulling more personal tricks out of my hat but will spare you. I've developed a lot of them over the years. The point is: finding a single image, rather than an image that fits a project outline or theme, requires special effort. Perhaps not every photographer is this way, however, I suspect I'm not unique in this regard. For me, seeing the single image is a practice in openness.

The single image is the only child of photography. No siblings to play with, no big sister to look up to, no little brother to take care of. It must stand alone and make its own way in the world. In doing so, it is more often than not illusive, though hiding in plain view.

The single image is like the butterfly in the spring garden, flitting from blossom to blossom. If you get too close, or attempt to capture it, it scurries away. That is to say, if you go looking for the image too aggressively, if you try too hard, it will, like an allusive animal, flee. But, if you are still and open and waiting, it might come to you.

The successful single image is the result of the openness I mention above. It is a freedom from content and forethought. At the highest level it is a meditation practice. Follow the breath, follow the eye. Go to emptiness. The athlete who after the competition cannot explain her performance, nor remember it, performed in a state of flow. This is the place I desire to be when photographing without preconception. But as my Zen teacher would say, I am already tripped up if coming to the practice with desire. To desire is to reach for the butterfly.

Again with the openness.

There is a mastery of photographic mechanics required to achieve the requisite state of photographic flow. The mechanics are not hard. I counsel: think like a musician. Learn your instrument to the place of mastery. Work at it such that when you practice your scales the muscle memory of your fingers takes over and your mind can go to the place where music is made free from the thinking. Your camera is your instrument. Know it intimately such that it takes over the mechanics of photography and your mind is free to see.

Develop tricks and nurture habits that feed the openness. Master your instrument. Practice. Before setting out with your camera take a moment to settle. To rest the eye in accord with the breath is to set the proper tone and mood. Self talk: I am now ready. Maintaining this state is the practice. The single image is the result.

I apologize that my ramblings have tended towards the esoteric. The more I thought about it and the more I wrote the more I realized that I know very little about making the single image. I know, however, a couple of things about preparing to make it.

Thanks for reading.