journal
Some days are just special. It is on those moments that I make most of my images, including my best photographs. Of course, that is not to say that we shouldn't get out as often as we can.
If you've ever felt an urge to grab your camera and start taking photos after seeing a great image from another photographer, this one is for you.
I keep a folder -aptly named "Inspiration"- in the Notes app on my phone with a collection of images that, for whatever reason, inspire me. Most are from photographers I admire, some are random online finds.
Sometimes, when I'm not feeling it, I open that folder and start scrolling through those images. More often than not, this simple act puts me in the right mood and I start seeing.
Perhaps, this is something you want to try yourself.
Inspiration can spread like wildfire.
Camera companies don't sell cameras, or lenses; they are trying to sell us an idea, a hope: buy this piece of equipment and you will become someone else, an adventurer, an explorer; finally being able to make the images you've always wanted to make.
We take the bait, and it feels good for a few hours, or a few days. Photography feels exciting again! But of course, nothing lasts forever, the hedonic treadmill works its magic and we are back to base one, feeling uninspired, until another sale tries to convince us once again that we can get there by purchasing yet something else.
Camera companies, like every retailer during this time of the year, are playing with our feelings of dissatisfaction. Perhaps with our own work, or something else. A feeling we can easily get rid of with just a quick and easy purchase.
As a photographer, I've been and I am there. I too feel dissatisfied, and spend way too much time thinking of camera gear and other easy ways to battle those feelings.
Even during this road trip across Norway I'm on, whenever I felt uninspired and couldn't find any images, I started to fantasize with what other places I should visit next. Almost wishing I was somewhere else. Imagine that, being in Norway and thinking that way!
I speak only from my personal experience, but I believe that these feelings are normal and natural to us. Perhaps, even the source of our creativity. The desire to create something new, the urge to keep getting out, the itch to explore and discover the world.
I think this is our curse, something we will experience as long as we are still growing. I believe that the moment we stop having these feelings, we will have stopped improving. And that'll probably be a sad moment.
So, be aware of this. We feel dissatisfied because we are still growing as photographers, as artists. Recognize that feeling for what it is. Look at it from a distance. Try to accept it. Don't let it define you. Be kind to yourself.
And then, grab your camera and go out make some pictures. That's still the best remedy I've found to put these feelings down.
It feels like it was a few days ago when I hit the road, but it’s been almost 4 months since I left to embark on this road trip across Norway. What an incredible experience this was! I will never forget waking up to these stunning landscapes, having breakfast out in nature, and the nights falling asleep to the sound of nearby streams.
As time passed, though, my sensitivity to these landscapes and to the experience itself decreased. I don't want to say I took it all for granted, but I got used to it somewhat. It always happens to me, no matter where I am.
Even though we human beings don't like change, we can become accustomed to almost any situation given enough time. Perhaps, this is why I keep moving every few weeks, every few months. No permanent home, always on the move, carrying all my possessions with me across two continents.
Despite all the downsides of this lifestyle -and it has plenty of them-, the main reason I like living this way is because it exposes the true nature of time. I don't let myself get used to anything for too long. There's always a feeling of urgency, of trying to take it all in while it lasts, because there's an expiration date.
The deadline for my time in Norway is approaching quickly, and I know I will miss these drives along the Norwegian lakes and fjords very much. Very soon, all of this will be just a memory of something that happened in the past. A memory I'll have to fight to keep alive.
But as they say, every beginning is another beginning's end. In a few weeks, Norway will be over, and I'll be back in Spain. Shortly after, I'll leave for the US. And not too long after that, I'll be taking another plane back to Europe.
We are running out of time, even if we don't notice its passing. Let's take it all in while we can.
Things are changing, as they always do. And we humans hate change.
It feels like it was yesterday when we were all hating on social media, while mourning the old platforms. It is 2022, and here we are, hating on TikTok and VR, mourning platforms like Instagram and Twitter.
I have no idea what the future will be for those platforms; I really hope I don't end up having to use VR glasses to share my photography and enjoy the work of fellow photographers.
No matter what the future will bring, this is a good moment to be reminded of the importance of having your own platform.
Lately, I've been trying to consolidate all my sources of inspiration in a RSS app. Instagram doesn't allow this, so the photographers who share their work exclusively on that platform are out; Twitter is playing nice... for now; but the ones that work the best are regular old websites and blogs.
Relying on social media to connect with peers and share your work was a great idea; exclusively using those platforms was a very bad idea.
I get it, a blog can be boring. It can feel like you are talking to no one. If you think the engagement is low on IG, just wait until you post on your own website.
And yet, I believe it's very important to have your own place, your little home in the Internet. Very few people will show up, but those are the ones that really matter. And of course, we can keep using social media and whatever platform comes next to reach new people and invite them to come over and look at what we have to offer.
If you don't have a website, I deeply encourage you to create one. Keep it simple. And then share it with all the people you've connected with over the years, so they know where they can find you in case the metaverse doesn't cut it for you.
It feels like a wildfire inside you, one that won't stop until you start creating something.
The sheer amount of amazing images being made nowadays can be overwhelming. “Comparison is the thieve of joy”; and today, there’s no shortage of photographs to compare ours to. This can make us feel miserable.
This is why I don’t consume a lot of photography. I follow a handful of photographers whose work I admire, enough to get some inspiration every once in a while, and focus all my energy on developing my own vision and approach to the medium.
Simply copying someone else’s work won’t lead us anywhere, but constantly trying to stand out among the crowd can be even worse. Our work shouldn’t be based on what others have or haven’t done. We need to stop trying to be unique, because we already are.
“The prize never goes to the fastest guy. It goes to the guy who slows down the least.” ~ Finding Ultra
Photography is not a marathon. It’s a million marathons, one after the other.
You can find some success with a lucky image, but a body of work is done and built over decades of dedication to the craft. Day after day.
This means taking new photos as often as possible, but also working on the ones we’ve already taken. Reflecting on them. Putting them in books, publishing them online, sharing our experiences. Day after day.
Photography is relatively easy, there’s no secret to it: no magic setting we are yet to discover, no better camera we should buy, no missing preset we should get, no discontinued film stock we should miss.
Everyone wants a shortcut because the truth is boring: it’s about putting the work, the hours, about never giving up. And the prize is that we get to do it again tomorrow.
A stable and repetitive life is probably bad for photography, and art in general. If we believe our photography is a reflection of our lives -as I do-, then doing interesting stuff should lead to compelling images.
On the other hand, being on the move the whole time won't leave us any time to actually process what we've done. We need to take a moment to look at the map to check where we are, and to appreciate what we've done.
There's a time to be moving, and there's a time to reflect.
As you know, I'm a big fan of local photography, but I also love to shake things up with the occasional road trip. It's in the combination of the routine, the boring, the repetitive... and the new, the exciting, the chaos... that I thrive the most.
I credit our nomadic lifestyle and the balance between chaos and routine it creates, as one the reasons why I am so committed to my photography.
Every time we move (and that might happen a few times a year), our physical location is just one of the things that change in our lives: diet, habits, language we speak at the grocery store, people we interact with on a daily basis... but eventually, one adapts to the new reality. Routine always finds a way.
Have you tried turning it off and on again?
As annoying as this question might be, there's a reason why it's the first one customer support asks -- it usually fixes the problem.
Perhaps, we need to perform a little reset on ourselves every once in a while, too.
I shoot a lot. Like a lot. Everyday. And I have very good reasons to do so. Come with me as I explore yet another beautiful location here in Norway, and I show you every single shot I take.
After 2+ months living on the road for photography, I have some thoughts.
Cameras are too good, they capture too much detail. We need to make photography imperfect again.
I've run out of words to describe Norway, so I'll let the images and videos speak for themselves. This time, from the fjords in Western Norway, where I spent my last days living in the car.
I believe that photography is less about skills and talent, and more about dedication over a long period of time. That's the only way to make meaningful work.
A good image should make the viewer use their own imagination. It should have gaps in the story, it should feel a little bit incomplete. It should give some answers, but also pose questions.
Perhaps, that's why I like shooting in the fog so much. It hides parts of the frame, if not most of them. It reveals just the necessary, and not more. The viewer's mind has to work at a deeper level, it's not just taking what the photo gives it, but creating something.
“you can only see what you are ready to see - what mirrors your mind at that particular time” ~ George Tice
Of course, there are other ways to create mystery in an image. Black and White already adds a layer, but you can also: compose your photograph so the subject is almost out of the frame, or suggesting there's something else there; hide parts of the subject with elements of the environment; long exposures will make the viewer stop for a second and wonder about what is going on; shoot through wet glass, use motion blur, intentional camera movement (ICM), or use special lenses like tilt or pinhole.
During a time when even our smartphones have enough resolution to show details for days, there's something about saying less, about suggesting, about letting the viewer decide what they want the image to be about. In the age of hyper-realistic photography, imperfect images can stand out even more. Give it a try.
Another beautiful drive across the Norwegian landscapes. This time, high up in the mountains.
This is a long one. I don't like to talk about gear because I don't want to give anyone the false impression that you need X camera or Y lens to create good images. Nor that you need the cameras I use to create images like mine!
I've used many, many cameras over the years. The style hasn't changed much, but the way I make them has.
So hopefully this video gives you an insight into why I have the cameras and lenses I have. But don't forget that I struggle with this stuff like anyone else, or even worse.
No matter where I go, I find spectacular landscapes. Come with me on another day full of photography in this beautiful country, this time at the Helgeland Coast.
A random day living on the road along the Norwegian coast. What a beautiful place, and what a privilege to photograph it.
My car has been my home for several weeks now. I sleep in the car, I eat in the car, I change my clothes in the car, I work in the car, I rest in the car, I cook in the car.
This is the easy and cheap "conversion" I did to my small SUV for a 3-month long road trip across Norway. Built and designed with photography in mind.
