For a long while, I’ve taken every photograph I could.
I’ve practiced and practiced. In the process I’ve sometimes taken more pictures than needed – ones I didn’t feel connected to – ones that I didn’t feel excited about or inspired by. I took them because I could, or perhaps because I thought I should. This results in a kind of “overshooting” whereby I end up editing and processing photos that I don’t really care about.
Borrowing from the words of David duChemin, “Don’t spend your time polishing turds.”
I’m more selective about the pictures I take these days. Trusting my instincts.
I passed on the picture of the turquoise bicycle leaning against the house on a side street.
I passed on the picture of the student in the coffee shop writing furiously with a ballpoint pen on a legal pad.
I passed on the pink coneflowers against the while picket fence on Princess Anne Street.
I stopped when I noticed the workers harvesting produce in the garden. I knew, without a doubt, that these were the pictures worth taking for me. I didn’t press the shutter endlessly, hoping to “catch” a defining moment. Instead, I watched and I waited. I interacted with my garden friends, and knelt on the ground and immersed myself in their world.
Click, click, click, click. Four pictures in the untamed garden.