Browsing a few years of photos and the collection of my personal “favorites” marked at flickr, there seem to be a few patterns among the pictures that speak most clearly and eloquently to my mind’s eye. Setting off to make compositions like that tends to be the most satisfying experience. And even to daydream about a prospective photo walk can satisfy some of that same urge for a perfect photo, as defined by the sort of shot that brings me back again and again to grasp more of, understand with more depth, or embrace more vividly.
Subjects tend to be landscapes, or other static scenes of the present (or imagined of the past or future at the spot), but compositions are most delicious that convey motion by pattern of line, texture, color, or light; often with field of focus extending from an arm’s length or two all the way to the horizon. Beyond the abstractions of composition, though, the moment of shutter release should capture something of human (cultural, social, personal) significance, or equally meaningful, something of non-human (animal, botanical, marine, geological, or seasonal or weather related) consequence. In summary the craving for taking a ‘perfect’ photo includes motion and a moment that communicates some of the context for interpretation to tell a viewer that something of meaning is being witnessed, if only one pauses to reflect on it.
As a thought experiment, given a budget for modest travel for 6 weeks or 6 months, what sort of itinerary or day to day routine could present opportunities to compose and capture ‘perfect’ photos as described here? One approach is the Walden Pond way: within a walking-distance radius, observe the small events hour by hour and season by season, either far from human society, or the reverse, in the thick of people’s lives and patterns swirling around one’s lens. Another approach is the trekker or seeker approach, always venturing over to the next hill or around the next bend in the road to seek another horizon. Travelers, guidebooks, or wikivoyage offer lists of scenic spots, sort of like the Victorians rambling in search of spacious or historical views. And the photo-sharing sites sometimes show clusters of photo spots that have attracted camera enthusiasts and professionals during the 5 or 10 years that the sharing services have operated.
Lists of historical matters can be sorted by theme (battle sites, natural disaster locations, places of literary or scientific or political significance) to form a “bucket list.” Even if the trekker model produces few ‘perfect’ photos, the effort of travel will produce various insights, reflections, reactions, and unexpected good and bad occasions. Attention span may be preoccupied with logistics, safety, and direction finding, so that relatively little energy remains for creative expression, writing and reflection, or depth of observation.
A similar mix of positive and negatives comes from the Walden Pond way: some days feeling little motivation, having no external demand to move on, or lacking a contrasting difference to spur a reaction or reflection. And yet, there will be a few rare moments when conditions are right to produce some depth of understanding or insight or wondering because all creative energies are available and not diffused by the effort of travel and unfamiliarity. One’s deepening familiarity with the surrounding scenes allows for even very small variations or developments to be perceptible; something that a “just passing by” sort of observer would wholly miss.
Between these extremes of “staying put” and “trekking far” is a happy and productive middle way: keeping the routines and modest scope of movement to form a dense foundation for creative work, but now and then venturing far away, if for no other reason than to derive the joy of “going home,” the sense of familiarity and comfort that comes after dealing with unfamiliar faces, languages, and outlooks. Finding this balance will depend on the person and the point in life they occupy, of course, but here are one or two examples of splitting time between “local depth” and “distant vision.” The second one fits the expression “don’t just sit there; do something” and the first one is the inverse, “don’t just do something; sit there.” The second one takes creative spark from external excitement, unfamiliarity, exoticness, outsider perspective, and novelty/newness. The first one takes creative spark from an internal frame of reference: conditions that are not unfamiliar, point of view of an insider, and lack of novelty. In other words, the scene is not changing much, but the eye of the observer is shifting to discover things that were buried in plain sight until finally embraced with deeper vision.
A world map makes a good starting place. The planet is the widest field from which a few destinations can be plucked and prioritized. One’s own national boundaries and neighboring countries can shorten the list of possible destinations. Then a day’s drive from one’s home can reduce the universe of possible destinations still more. Finally there is the circumference of bicycle or travel by foot to define an even closer world of subject matter, with the views of changing light and skyscapes from one’s doorstep as the smallest circle of all. The model in each case is to strike a workable and productive balance between sameness and routine (familiarity) on the one hand, and novelty on the other – serendipity is an enlivening element in both cases, surprising one’s routines or adding excitement or easy solution to a problem far from home. For example, on the planetary scale of things, an adventure of 3 weeks to a single hub (urban center than can be transected on foot within 1-2 hours or less) or set of 2 or 3 hubs (sea, city, highland) should have some structure as well as latitude for spontaneity to chase the light, the shifting composition, or the events at hand. The same model fits things within a day-trip by car from your home base hub: begin with some structure, but leave room for spontaneity. Again this model works for places far from home but within your national borders or neighboring countries: hub locations for routine and refreshment of creative forces, with some structures and routines, but then leaving room to follow one’s eyes and the light or the subjects that emerge.
In summary, the urge for a ‘perfect’ picture is a craving that can be satisfied as conditions permit, either from one’s doorstep with keen observation of a small world, or far from home in unfamiliar worlds. Planning and daydreaming can be the first course in a feast for the eyes and mind. But of course, so much of what gives meaning and value is in the eye of the beholder; the one who puts in the effort and lays a foundation to appreciate what finally comes to pass. Pictures from the photo walk or expedition are a pale likeness of the full, sensory experience of the place, the composition decisions, and the circumstances leading up to the shutter release. For a person coming across your ‘perfect’ photo, it may look like a postcard view or a curious trick of the light. And without knowing the things contained in the frame, the effort required to bring one’s eye and mind into focus at that moment, the full depth of the vision will escape the casual looker. That ‘perfect’ photo will be treasure that hides in plain sight and perhaps only a few will savor the result.