It must not be underestimated—the shaping power of creative work. The need for expression finds its way like the agency of water that creates stream valleys.

Even when met with resistance.

It’s freezing outside. My foot is painful and limits how far and how fast I can walk. Asking to take pictures feels like a huge risk.

Still, the creative path winds its way.

I feel as though the work flows through me. I am not fighting against. Not striving with stress.

This is the time to practice and play. Freestyle.

Be Just, Charlottesville, Virginia

Washed Out, Montross, Virginia

Closed Door, Montross, Virginia

When I collect advice on my own, it feels like someone opened a door and invited me in. I want to sit down and soak it all in. This is in sharp contrast to unsolicited advice which tends to trigger my inner rebel and often just makes me feel defensive. My mother often said to me, when frustrated by my stubbornness, “I don’t know why, but you have to learn everything the hard way.” I guess she was right. I’m forging my own path.

  • Some really wonderful photography advice and encouragement from Paul Sanders . . .

Always embrace the thirst to be inspired, to have a beginners mind, full of curiosity and wonder, give yourself permission to acknowledge that you are your best, knowing that you will keep getting better at what you are doing through practice and adventure.

One last tip - always give yourself a five star image at the end of each day - one will always stand out, that way you can visually acknowledge you did your best - don't compare it to previous days or week, or hold back in case you do a better image tomorrow.

This isn’t about you getting fixed . . . This is about you living the best life you can with the parameters you have . . . You need to live a life that you can cope with, not the one that other people want. Start saying no. Just do one thing a day. No more than two social events in a week.

I don't like the words "shoot" or "shot." I've used them here, and they slip into my vocabulary now and then because they are part of the language of popular photography. But I fight against it, and one reason is this: photography is not about hitting a target. Not for me, and I suspect not for you. It's about exploration and expression. My subjects are not bullseyes at which I aim, and which I either hit or miss.

House on the Potomac River, Colonial Beach, Virginia

I watched the first two installments of nature and landscape photographer Robert Clark’s Artist-in-Residence for FRAMES. I was fascinated as Robert walked along the battlefields of Antietam National Battlefield in Maryland and managed to see and compose photos that I would have likely overlooked. Sometimes I am not sure if it’s that I don’t see in this way or if it’s simply that I haven’t developed the knowledge and skills to take these kinds of photographs.

Coincidentally, I started to research information on camera lenses. I’m hoping to upgrade my camera body and add a new lens this year. I love prime lenses, and I read an article on 35mm versus 50mm versus 85mm lenses. Much of what I know about photography I’ve learned through trial and error. Let’s see what this does! But in the process, there are some gaps in my knowledge. For example, I hadn’t really tried using my 35mm lens to take landscape photographs—or at least not very often. I paid attention when Robert Clark described his technique. Follow the light. (I had to work with what I had. Bright high contrast, mid-day light.) Always use a tripod. (I didn’t.) Set the aperture for f11. (I almost always shoot at wide apertures.) Use focus bracketing. (I don’t even know exactly what this is, but I’ll look it up this week).

But for today, all that mattered was that I was trying to see and shoot differently.

The tools and the techniques don’t change my voice.

They simply give me another means of expression.

Pump House, Colonial Beach, Virginia

“I need a new habit. Or maybe just a different verb. Ponder is a nice one, reminiscent of, well, a pond. It sounds peaceful. I will fold my hands, take up pondering. Still water, full of life.”

—Abigail Thomas, Confessions of an 80-Year-Old Barbarian

I love this quote from Abigail Thomas. (Thank you to Helen McLaughlin for introducing me to Abigail’s writing.)

I think that pondering goes nicely with another of my favorite activities, noticing.

In a lively conversation with my friend Kate this morning, we talked about how to answer that very difficult question, “What kind of photographer are you?” Clearly, there is no easy answer for folks like us. At the heart of the matter, we simply take pictures of all that we notice, what catches our eye or tugs at our heart. What makes us laugh or makes us mad. What we feel deeply. Things that are silly and things that are serious. People we love and those unknown. Nature and what is left behind. Everything we notice.

Noticing and pondering seem to go hand-in-hand. I’m declaring it art.