a horse is a horse


For all intents and purposes, featured above is a self-portrait (I'm the one in the middle) and this blog entry has been a couple of days in the writing, because I needed time to process so that I could fully understand my descent to horse's ass-dom in the hopes of avoiding it again in the future. It must be said before I continue that about the only thing I do on Facebook is play Scrabble. I see no point in wasting time looking at the tasteless over-circulated jokes people have posted on their FunWall or scrolling through 928 pictures of your second cousin's best friend's Aunt Margie's 67th birthday party. However, I got an invite to participate in a photography critique group. Suddenly, there was something interesting enough for me to bother going on FB for (besides Scrabble).


Technical critiquing, for the record, is making objective observances that break a photo down into its individual elements, and making a call on whether the photographer managed to use those elements in the right mix to send us their message loud and clear, or if there is room for improvement. For this reason I am a very firm believer that we need to experience our own images through the eyes of others. There is no 'right' or 'wrong' in critiquing, and it has nothing to do with subjective statements such as 'like' or 'do not like.' The sum of the technical elements - depth of field, subject matter, focus, composition, colour saturation, contrast, etc. - add up to make a photo striking or not striking to the person viewing it, add up to whether they 'get' what we are trying to 'say.'  At the end of the day, our experience of someone else's images isn't just about helping fellow photographers experience their pictures through others' eyes and recognize weaknesses and strengths, but about what what we, as fellow photographers, want to accomplish with our own photographic journey.

Everyone has to start somewhere, and there is a lot of play and experimentation that takes place in the early days before we develop our skills and style. I know most of us look at our early work and think, "Wow - and I thought THAT was a GOOD picture?" Time and experience allow us to look at our own work more objectively. Time. And experience. I have plenty of both poured into this, and a burning desire to keep ploughing ever forward and ever on, and to ignite that passion that, once sparked, pushes us from camera owner, to operator, to photographer.

It takes time to master whatever equipment you own, to get to the part where it behaves as an extension of your physical body, where it's as ingrained to fiddle with the settings to create the effect you want and ~click~ as it is to blink and walk and breathe. There were years spent hauling my camera out and awkwardly shooting everything that moves, not quite as quick or skilled as I needed to be to get all the knobs and focussing right, not as conscious of my breathing, not as subconscious of the fact I needed a wall to lean on. Those early years I took a lot of flack from my mentors, always from their place of truth and knowledge, and stern, but never without respect, patience, and a genuine desire to see me keep growing as an artist. And even in moments of great frustration, not once did anyone ever take the time to insult me to my face, or tell me to just give up.

(Here's the part where the horse's ass comes in.)

I have apparently repaid this favour by allowing myself to engage in mudslinging with a young man I'll refer to as Mr. Ed. I was impatient for Mr. Ed, who I do believe has a sincere dedication to photography, to make that transition from 'owner' to 'operator' to 'photographer.' Through a misunderstanding, we started off on the wrong foot, and my attempts at sorting it out turned sour, eventually ending up with both of us hurling insults back and forth, my last words to him being, "Keep up the good work and you'll be shooting for ~insert chain store portrait studio here~ in no time, or grow some balls and start shooting with your heart instead of your camera." Sage advice. Not very nicely put sage advice. 


Everything I said leading up to the part where I turned mean was said with the purest and most genuine intention of fanning that spark.  Even the part I said meanly, was meant to be encouraging.  But I honestly didn't think I had it in me to say something so cruel, especially about something so dear to my heart, so much an integral part of my own life, to a fellow shooter.  The up side is that I have learned something very important about myself, about my limitations, and about how far and in what context I can be pushed before I snap.  Though there may be no deserved apology coming down the barrel and karma will take matters up with this horse's ass later, I am also reminded by this experience that although you may lead a horse to water, you cannot make him drink.  May you drink of your own accord soon, Mr. Ed.

Comments

Laura Jane said…
Those are beautiful horse ass's. Especially the one in the middle.
Babzy said…
That's the main trouble with on-line dialogue. There's no body language, no voice inflection, no tone, no facial expression, no way to see how the other is reacting until it's too late. It's a wonder there aren't more misunderstandings. I believe in Karma. Karma has slapped me more than once.
alphonsedamoose said…
Critiquing someone is always hard. Sometimes just the wrong word will do it. I'm glad you see the upside of the whole thing though
LittleBirdie said…
It's great that you understand that everyone has a process and though you may see great potential in someone - they may not have the drive or ambition to achieve it. I relate to you on this one because it happens to me all the time.

I've done some soul-searching and have realized that I am constantly trying to shove people under my wings because I really wish someone had seen my potential and put me under their wing when I, myself was growing up. It's been a frustrating process for me to realize that not everyone wants a springboard to success - some people really would just rather have things handed to them and not have to lift a finger. In the end, I've finally figured out that it's ok - all of it. As long as we all live happily and without offending others (for the most part), then everything is fine. Who am I to judge, anyway?

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