Keep it. Share it. It isn't beautiful because it is perfect.
Honestly, Lynzi
I purchased my first DSLR six years ago for the purpose of capturing my children’s everyday moments, and I did not hesitate to snap a thousand photos. Most of them were not very good, but I never missed a thing.
However, at some point in my photography journey, I started to feel I had “out grown” just capturing moments. I felt the pressure to constantly be creating, and past creating, critiquing and stripping away the emotions of the photo, boiling it down to its technical pieces. I found myself tossing out photos of my kids because they were technically imperfect. Those I didn't delete, I stashed away for myself but never shared for fear of losing the respect of other photographers, clients, or even my friends who had grown to admire my “work.”
I am not sure when photographers began to use “snap-shot” as a derogatory term, but most of us have heard it used to reference sloppy work. In truth, it just describes a photo that is taken quickly. That doesn't sound like such a bad thing to me. Isn't that why we bought our cameras in the first place? To catch those perfectly imperfect moments that define our lives and live on in our memories?
I am not saying I want to go back to shooting blurry photos in automatic. My concern is what I missed when my priorities changed from documenting my children’s childhood to just creating art. What did I delete in-camera? What shot did I not take at all for fear of imperfection?
We are putting an enormous amount of pressure on ourselves as photographers when we stop being able to enjoy the precious things we capture on the fly because we can’t turn them into a perfectly formed piece of art. Not only that, we have stopped documenting the very things that we got into the business to preserve.
Please do not misinterpret what I am saying. I am not suggesting you shut down your fine art portrait studio or that you stop having your family picture taken with everyone smiling at the camera. There is a place for all of that!
What I am suggesting is that we, as a community, stop discounting the “snap-shot.” Grab your camera, shoot the moment, and don’t leave a photo on the cutting room floor because you didn't have the time to perfectly frame the shot.
Stop tossing out memories because of a chopped finger or a blurry foot. Take the shot, no matter how imperfect, then edit it.
Keep it. Share it. It isn't beautiful because it is perfect.
It is beautiful because you captured it and it is yours forever.
However, at some point in my photography journey, I started to feel I had “out grown” just capturing moments. I felt the pressure to constantly be creating, and past creating, critiquing and stripping away the emotions of the photo, boiling it down to its technical pieces. I found myself tossing out photos of my kids because they were technically imperfect. Those I didn't delete, I stashed away for myself but never shared for fear of losing the respect of other photographers, clients, or even my friends who had grown to admire my “work.”
I am not sure when photographers began to use “snap-shot” as a derogatory term, but most of us have heard it used to reference sloppy work. In truth, it just describes a photo that is taken quickly. That doesn't sound like such a bad thing to me. Isn't that why we bought our cameras in the first place? To catch those perfectly imperfect moments that define our lives and live on in our memories?
I am not saying I want to go back to shooting blurry photos in automatic. My concern is what I missed when my priorities changed from documenting my children’s childhood to just creating art. What did I delete in-camera? What shot did I not take at all for fear of imperfection?
We are putting an enormous amount of pressure on ourselves as photographers when we stop being able to enjoy the precious things we capture on the fly because we can’t turn them into a perfectly formed piece of art. Not only that, we have stopped documenting the very things that we got into the business to preserve.
Please do not misinterpret what I am saying. I am not suggesting you shut down your fine art portrait studio or that you stop having your family picture taken with everyone smiling at the camera. There is a place for all of that!
What I am suggesting is that we, as a community, stop discounting the “snap-shot.” Grab your camera, shoot the moment, and don’t leave a photo on the cutting room floor because you didn't have the time to perfectly frame the shot.
Stop tossing out memories because of a chopped finger or a blurry foot. Take the shot, no matter how imperfect, then edit it.
Keep it. Share it. It isn't beautiful because it is perfect.
It is beautiful because you captured it and it is yours forever.
XOXO - Lynzi
Honestly, Jesse
Three years ago I picked up a camera. I had envisioned I would do grand things. Needless to say, the trade proved to be a bit trickier than I had first imagined.
Regardless, I found myself fascinated by photography and took such joy in photographing my then three year old son. I took countless images of him and showcased them proudly, via social media or to anyone who would give me a few moments to gush.
Then something strange happened. As time went on, I improved drastically and rather quickly. Suddenly, these beautifully moments I had captured with my son seemed to rub me the wrong way. I found myself dismissing them because of their imperfections. The light could be better. The focus could be better. What was I thinking when I chose f/5.6? Who will care about my son playing with this toy?
Eventually, my once cherished images found their way to a melancholy folder tucked away deep in my files, labeled "Adriel - Old". It would be nearly a year before I looked at them again.
Soon client work became my norm and my family faded from in front of my camera.
I can't tell you how this saddens me today.
I can't tell you how many moments I've missed.
Today, while I still struggle with a need for perfection in my own work, I've challenged myself to embrace my own family, every day, imperfections included because life isn't a photography session and it won't slow down while I recompose.
Life is happening. Now, now, now.
And I want to be there, camera in hand, memories to be made.
Regardless, I found myself fascinated by photography and took such joy in photographing my then three year old son. I took countless images of him and showcased them proudly, via social media or to anyone who would give me a few moments to gush.
Then something strange happened. As time went on, I improved drastically and rather quickly. Suddenly, these beautifully moments I had captured with my son seemed to rub me the wrong way. I found myself dismissing them because of their imperfections. The light could be better. The focus could be better. What was I thinking when I chose f/5.6? Who will care about my son playing with this toy?
Eventually, my once cherished images found their way to a melancholy folder tucked away deep in my files, labeled "Adriel - Old". It would be nearly a year before I looked at them again.
Soon client work became my norm and my family faded from in front of my camera.
I can't tell you how this saddens me today.
I can't tell you how many moments I've missed.
Today, while I still struggle with a need for perfection in my own work, I've challenged myself to embrace my own family, every day, imperfections included because life isn't a photography session and it won't slow down while I recompose.
Life is happening. Now, now, now.
And I want to be there, camera in hand, memories to be made.
XOXO - Jesse
If there's anything you'd love to know more about, let us know in comments!