A member of the photography club I’m a part of said the other day that they were looking for a digital camera in order to iterate faster so they could become a better photographer. Which, seems like reasonable thinking, but what if it’s backward?
What if in order to gain mastery we need to go slower? To consider each frame on its own merits, to make careful decisions and then observe the outcomes with skin in the game.
Nothing has been more benefial to my growth as an artist than working on a print until I hate it. Every single flaw shouting at me! Hours of time, spent composing, processing, editing, dodging, burning, washing; every new attempt is money down the drain, and only to end up with a print that consists of nothing but mistakes!
When I set out the next day I tell myself, “I’ll never make those mistakes again. I’ll never waste my time like that. I’ll never face the embarrassment of repeating the same mistake twice”. Of course I do, but every repetition of the cycle is a chance to improve.
When I take out my digital camera, I shoot hundreds of pictures, every one of them nearly the same. My job now is to pour over a sea of images all minutely different trying to ascertain which of them is barely better than the others. Am I an artist or an editor? And in the end, what is the product of this effort? A small jpeg posted out to thousands and thousands of machines, briefly seen and then forgotten.
What if it’s the pain of mistakes, the cost of trying again, and the stakes that matter? What if the iterations need to be slower, and more expensive? I don’t need to tell anyone else how to do what they do, if moving fast helps you, knock yourself out. But I had to move slow.