I’ve gone two months without taking a photo.
Now, that’s not entirely accurate. I’ve taken snapshots on my phone. And over the holidays I framed up family pics with a Fujifilm Instax.
But the SD card on my Sony has remained empty. My lenses are gathering dust. And though we’re well into the new year, my hard drive is yet to receive its annual ‘2024’ folder.
Why? Perhaps I’ve been too busy with the new comms role I started in December. Or perhaps I haven’t been in the zone—and that’s okay.
As creatives, sometimes we need to take the pressure off to constantly produce, create and share. So that’s what this article is about: stepping away to leap back in.
Photography without photographing
Even though the services of my 5 am alarm haven’t been needed this summer—a pleasant respite to be sure—I’ve stayed connected to photography by:
Producing articles: I’ve written an advanced guide to compelling long exposures for Australian Photography magazine. (Keep an eye out for the April 2024 issue.)
Sourcing inspiration: I contacted a second-hand store to enquire about vintage Peter Dombrovskis wilderness calendars. With 12 full-colour calendars (dating back to 1979) sitting in storage, the owner was happy to let them go for $100. It may just be my best purchase of 2024.
Planning trips: I’m heading back to the world-class NSW South Coast in March and then I’m off to Tassie in April to revisit a few favourite locations. Time to dust off those lenses I think.
Printing images: I recently printed a huge 36”x24” stretched canvas of Land of the Ents and a 30”x20” print of Last Light. It still never gets old to see your work hanging in someone’s home.
A selection of calendars from Peter Dombrovskis and The (Tasmanian) Wilderness Society.
Pursuing other pursuits (but mostly reading)
Beyond photography, I’ve taken time to focus on my physical wellbeing. I’m making wiser food choices, going on daily walks and exercising more than I ever have before.
And I’ve been nurturing my psychological wellbeing by reading more deeply (and broadly) too. Here are three books that recently resonated with me:
On the left, I was moved by Grace from Cody Keenan, Barack Obama’s speechwriter. His account follows a mass shooting in Charleston after the surviving families chose forgiveness over anger and resentment. It culminates in a stirring eulogy centred on the concept of grace—and then soars when Obama leads the congregation in a rendition of Amazing Grace.
On the right, I found The Coddling of the American Mind fascinating. It examines the rise of snap judgments, us/them divisions and taking offence when none was intended. Like me, you may find aspects of the book challenging. But that’s its premise: that tolerating differences and navigating discomfort are key to a healthy society.
And for something more local? I recommend Richard Flanagan’s Question 7. Flanagan weaves through the seemingly disparate yet essential chain of events that has led to his current existence. I won’t give too much away, but savour his rhetorical style as he raises and ponders the deep questions worth asking.
(Bonus pick? How to Know a Person: The Art of Seeing Others Deeply and Being Deeply Seen by David Brooks.)
Time to leap back in, again?
Over the past eight years, I’ve come to realise (and accept) that my zeal for nature photography ebbs and flows. There are periods of ecstatic rush and then there’s gentle calm.
Right now, I’m in a moment of calm. But my sails are ready to catch the next gust of inspiration when it rolls through.
Yet throughout this photography-free period, I’ve still been noticing potential frames everywhere I go. Even if I haven’t been capturing them.
Like menacing storm clouds rolling by from out west—followed by delirious summer sunsets. And subtle botanical details on my morning strolls: curling bark patterns and fresh red gum leaves aglow in light.
If you’ll indulge me with one last metaphor, my fervour for photography remains waiting like a pilot light. For favourable weather conditions or a bold adventure to fuel that spark and turn it into a blaze.
(Or not. Perhaps I just need to set my 5 am alarm again, pack my camera bag and leap back in.)