Don't Reject Yourself

Yesterday's conversation on fear was fantastic. If you are thinking you are the only one who feels fear, go and take a look at the comments. You and I are definitely not alone.

This topic was on my mind through the whole day. Funnily enough, a message with the title "Your Fears are Lies" appeared in my inbox later in the day. I'm on a list for fear.less magazine, which periodically sends out notes about overcoming fear, in addition to the free online magazine they publish "to show people they're not alone in their fear." The message was a perfect continuation of what I started writing about yesterday, highlighting some of the same points and adding others. If you want ongoing encouragement to overcome your fear, you can subscribe to the fear.less free online magazine and the emails here.

Later in the day, I also had a conversation with my husband about how we "pre-reject" ourselves. Here's the scenario:
1. We see something we want to do or have an idea and want to propose it somewhere.
2. We think about asking or proposing and the little voice in our head starts talking. It says, "They will just say no."
3. We are so afraid of rejection, we don't want to hear a "no," so we don't ask.
Guess what! No one else had to reject us in this scenario. We did it for them!

Have you ever done this? I have. So, so many times. I'm starting to realize that I should let someone else say yes or no, not decide for them. Some of the time, when you put a question or proposal out there, the answer is no. Sometimes the answer is a big, blank void. That's almost worse, to my mind. But sometimes, the answer is yes.

The only way you can get an answer of "yes" is to actually ask the question, send the proposal, submit your work. You open yourself up for rejection, but you also open yourself up for success. No one is going to come  knocking at your door or in your email inbox asking for this wonderful idea, because they don't even know it exists until you put it out there.

Think on this. Look for times when you don't even give others the chance to reject you, because you are rejecting yourself. When that happens, take a deep breath, put yourself out there and let them make the decision. Who knows, the answer might just be "yes."

Photo is from Murten, Switzerland.

Exploring with a Camera: Waiting to Click

Welcome to Exploring with a Camera! This next couple of weeks we are going to be Waiting to Click. As always, I have a lot of ideas to share with you in this post and then there is a link up at the bottom for you to share your images on the topic. You can also share your photos in the Flickr pool if you are interested in being featured on the blog.

There is so much of our world that is changeable. When you tune in to it, you begin to notice the ebb and flow of life around us. "Waiting to Click" is about being aware of the changeable things in our environment, predicting what is going to happen and then waiting to capture the image we've anticipated. So often photographers talking about being ready, having the camera with us and available to shoot, in order to capture a fleeting moment as we see it unfold. Waiting to Click takes the readiness a bit further, adding a bit of both prediction and patience into the mix.

To get a great image by Waiting to Click requires your active participation. Here is what you have to do:

1. Be aware of what is changeable in your environment. We live in a world of change, whether it's the flow of traffic or the clouds blowing by, there are variables that affect the potential for us to make good images. By noticing the things that are moving and changing, and how they change relative to the things that are fixed, we can make use of them in our photography.
2. See the image you want to capture. You need to see the potential shot. This may mean looking through or past the changeable things in the environment, or predicting their behavior to include them in the image you want to capture. 
3. Know your equipment. In order to take advantage of a changing situation, you have to know your camera. What is the delay between shutter press and release? What is the timing if you use burst? I know we are talking about fractions of a second here for dSLRs, but those fractions of a second may matter. For point-and-shoots or phone cameras, the delay is longer and you really have to be able to coordinate the pressing of the shutter with the prediction of the shot.
4. Wait for the shot to unfold, then capture it. This is the key. This could mean waiting for several seconds, or it could mean waiting minutes. Professional photographers might wait all day for the perfect light to capture the image they see. How long you are willing to wait is up to you.

Now let's see a few examples of Waiting to Click, to further explain what I mean...

Moving Vehicles


Vehicles of all sorts are always moving around us, when we are out and about in the streets. You may recognize the lead-in image for this post as another in my emerging market/wheels series, and the capture of this shot is a great example of Waiting to Click. I saw this image across a very busy street in Siracusa, Sicily. I paused for a while and watched the traffic flow. There were a few moments in each traffic light cycle, where the cars passing by on the street cleared out just long enough to photograph a few frames. While traffic was going by, I looked at possible angles and compositions, and situated myself in the best spot for the image I envisioned. I waited for the next traffic light cycle, and the moment the cars cleared out, I got the shot.

In some cases, you want the moving vehicle in the shot, like this one of the Milan subway I captured with my iPhone camera. This was my first outing with the camera, and I was just getting used to the delay. I was fascinated by the crowd on the other side of the subway platform and thought it would be a great shot to have the crowd behind the train pulling into the station, so I practiced with a couple of shots of the crowd to get the framing and camera timing down. Then, when I heard the train coming, I was ready to click as soon as it entered the frame and captured the image I wanted.

The light this particular evening in the Venetian Lagoon was spectacular. I took several images of the sky but knew the shot would be more interesting with a boat in the foreground. I had my exposure and composition dialed in, it was just a matter of waiting for the right opportunity to come along. When this boat came by, I was ready and waiting to click.

People


We are often surrounded by our fellow human beings, and depending on the shot you want, that can be a good thing or a bad thing. You might think that Europe is an empty place, from my photographs. I really love to capture an empty street or place, to allow the viewer room to imagine themselves in the frame. To do this, I often have to wait for a lull. Just like cars, the flow of people will change, but it's less predictable. Here is another in my market/wheels series, captured in Bologna. It looks like this was a deserted street, but this was a busy Saturday afternoon, the weather was nice, and people were out on the streets in force. I used the times when there were people coming by to set up the shot and play around with composition. When I found the image I wanted, I waited for the people to leave the frame, and clicked.

Here is another image where I waited for the frame to clear, with the exception of the people seated on the left. Evening at the Roman Baths in Bath, England is certainly quieter than the day, but there were still many people wandering around and listening to their audioguides. (I've learned to dislike audioguides - people stand immobile for minutes on end gazing at something while listening to the commentary, much longer than they do without the audioguide.) Meanwhile, I patiently waited for them to move on so I could get the right image. 

Often, your image will be enhanced with a person or two in just the right spot. The next two examples, from Cinque Terre and Bath, are images where the mood is further conveyed by the people in the frame. In both cases, I had to wait until the subjects walked into the right light to capture the image.

So far I've shown you empty or mostly empty places - what about crowds? I've learned quite a bit about photographing a crowd over the last couple of years. Capturing a crowd can convey the energy, the hustle and bustle of a place, but it has to be done right. In general, I've discovered that for a good crowd shot, you want to have full bodies - partial people walking into the frame or cutting off feet is distracting. For a generalized crowd, you also want the people to either be small enough their faces aren't easily distiguishable or facing away from the camera. Nothing attracts the human eye quite as much as a face, so your crowd shot can become an unintentional image of a specific person if you're not mindful. Here's a comparison of two images within moments of each other in Madrid. The first shot is one I would consider a nice crowd-in-the-street scene, the second has more crowd distractions.

Crowds ebb and flow, which is a great thing. Unless you are in an insanely crowded place (like Venice at Carnevale), you can usually situate yourself in a good location and wait for the crowd to disperse itself in a way that works for your intended image. This example from Venice (not during Carnevale) was one where I waited for a good crowd position before pressing the shutter.

The Natural Elements


So far I've talked about human elements, but natural elements - such as light and wind - are some of the more changeable features in our world. As photographers, we live for light, so being aware of the light you are working with and how it may change is an important skill. Partly cloudy and windy days can be great days for waiting to click.

The following set of images from Stonehenge show how just a few moments difference on a partly cloudy day can make a huge difference in an image. Watching the light, and waiting to click at the right moment, can pay off big dividends in your images.

You may remember this group of three image from Cascais, Portugal.  This another time when I waited for the right light to click. The sun was going in and out of the clouds, and without the dappled light this image was not the same. I waited for quite a while for the sun to come out from behind the clouds to capture this scene.

For the next example, it was the wind that made a difference. With wind, you sometimes have to wait for a gust or wait between gusts, depending on what you want to capture. In this image of the main street of Murten, Switzerland, I had to wait for the breeze to die down so that the flags were hanging straight and clearly visible. A subtle detail, but one that means the difference between you being able to tell the location by looking at the image or not.

I've shown you a lot of examples where my patience paid off, but also realize that waiting to click doesn't always work out. There are times when the elements don't change as you predicted. There are times when you can't wait as long as you like - the people you with are impatient or you have someplace to be at a certain time. But when you are aware of your environment, seeing the opportunities and waiting to click - sometimes magic happens. 

Wait for it...

Wait for it...

Click.

I can't wait to see the images you captured by Waiting to Click, new or archive shots are welcome. Link your images in below or put them in the Flick pool. If you have the opportunity to comment on how you set up the shot and waited to click, that would be fun to read. I would love it if you want to add my button to your post, you can find the code here.

Set in Stone

A last little bit of love graffiti, this time from Murten, Switzerland. In Switzerland, you don't find much graffiti, so these little declarations of love are a bit harder to find than in Italy. I loved the messages etched into the sandstone, in this little hideaway above the town. I wonder how long it took to create this heart?

I guess no matter the rules or the laws or the culture, the need to publicly commemorate feelings remains and is acted out in different ways. Whether it's ink on a wall, a lock on a railing, initials carved into a tree trunk or hearts etched in sandstone, love finds a way to speak. I hope you enjoyed these images, this Valentine's week.

Yesterday I was musing on street scenes at Mortal Muses, so come by if you would like to see the street personality of Lisbon and Chinatown in San Francisco.

Today I have one last message of love to share! Ashley at Ramblings and Photos has challenged us to write Love Letters to Kitty Paw, her cat. So, I dusted off my digital scrapbooking skills to help our cat Stevie send a letter. Didn't he have a sweet message for Kitty Paw?

Click the image below see all of the fun love letters linked in! You might just be inspired to join in too.

Lessons from Abroad: Find a Regular Practice

Lessons from Abroad: Find a Regular Practice

[Today's post is the second part of a five part series. The first article was published here.]

In the last post I talked about how changing up your schedule can help free up your creative energy to find your purpose and passion. Today I’m going to explore the next key element I’ve learned during my time in Italy: Find a Regular Practice.

In many personal development books I’ve read, the idea of a “daily practice” is somehow incorporated. One of the first ones I encountered was in Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way, where the “morning pages” are a crucial part of her process. Over time I’ve noticed almost every personal growth or spiritual philosophy incorporates and encourages some form of contemplative activity on a regular basis.

I have started and stopped different daily practices depending on the books I’m reading or the programs I’m following. Over time though, with trial and error, I have settled in to three main things that work for me as part of a regular practice: Inspirational reading, journaling and walking. These three items are complementary and work together for me to keep me balanced and centered, as well as open and ready to receive ideas. They help keep me in touch with my intuition and those messages from my authentic self.

I don’t have a regimented schedule with my practice. In fact, that’s why I say “regular practice” and not “daily practice” in the title. Here’s what my practice looks like:

Most mornings of the week I will get up and get my cup of tea (I guess we can add “tea” in as part of the practice), and then sit down to read something that I’m interested in. This is not fiction reading – it could be essays, part of a book on creativity, something on personal development. I have a number of books in progress sitting next to me, and I’ll pick up whichever one strikes me. I read a few pages and then I journal for a little while. Sometimes the journaling is on what I’ve read, sometimes it is on a problem that is on my mind, sometimes it’s just random ideas I want to capture. Once I start to write, I write until I feel done. That could be one paragraph or several pages, depending on what’s coming. Later in the morning (that morning creative time I talked about before!) I will often go for a walk or jog, with no music to distract me, in the park near my home.

I don’t do all of these every day – in fact most mornings I do 1 or 2 of the 3 – but over time I engage regularly in all of these activities.

This group of practices combine in an amazing way for me. It’s as if I get creative fuel, raw ideas, from the reading. The journaling helps me clear out the blockages in my brain and my emotions from daily life, which creates the space in myself for new ideas to be generated. With that open space and creative fuel available, the walk becomes where I receive the resulting messages and ideas. Sometimes the reading sparks an idea that I subsequently write about in my journal, which leads to making a connection or discovery about myself. Sometimes something I’ve written about in my journal or something I’ve read will sit in my mind and I’ll mull it over, and it comes out as some new idea during a walk – possibly days later. It is amazing how many creative ideas, how many realizations that have led me to my passion and purpose, have come to me during these walks. I now keep a small notebook with me at all times, just to capture the ideas.

I also find, in the process of all of this amazing idea generation and self discovery, I gain perspective on my life in general. I’m able to let go of the damaging focus on stressful situations. I am able to disconnect from the things that previously would wrap me up – preventing sleep, contributing to bad moods, generally coloring my life negatively. I can see problems with a new view.

There is nothing new in the ideas of a regular practice, or the activities that comprise my practice. As mentioned above, many personal or spiritual development programs have incorporated these elements, time and time again. They all have a plan - if you do it this way, on this frequency, you will reap these rewards. While that is probably true for the creator or author of the program, I think part of this key is that each of us has to find what works for us. If we follow a regimented plan that doesn’t really connect with us, even if we see some initial benefit we won’t sustain it long term.

One of the most important elements of defining a practice is occasionally losing the practice – falling off the wagon, stopping it, letting it dribble away. It may seem counter-intuitive, but these are actually very important occasions for really integrating and owning your own practice. It’s through the losing of it, and seeing the results of losing it in our selves – how we feel, how we interact, how it affects our lives – that we become truly committed. For me, it’s taken time – starting and stopping and restarting again – to finally come to the point that I learn to choose the practice over the other things that compete for my time.

That’s not to say that I don’t skip it sometimes for an extended period. Vacations, business trips, certain busy times come along for a week or two. But during these times I know they are coming, consciously prepare myself and make the choice to skip it, and then make the choice to come back to it when that brief time is over. I’ve found that for me, a week or so of skipping isn’t damaging. I can remain centered and grounded and can come back to it. Beyond two weeks, however, and I start to lose some essential pieces of myself, my connection to my core. I now recognize this change and am not willing to lose my practice anymore. It’s a wonderful feeling – to make the choice based on what’s best for me.

Here are my ideas about how you can apply this key concept of “Find a Regular Practice” to your life too:

• Start experimenting with some different practices. These could be similar to mine, or they could be other practices like running, yoga, meditating, creating art, etc. You might already have something that you’ve started and stopped over time.
• When you find one that makes you feel good – when you are done you feel refreshed, revived, centered, clear – stick with that one for a while. Note how you feel when you do it, and when you don’t do it. Experiment with different times of the day, tap into the peak of your energy cycle as discussed in Change up Your Schedule for maximum impact.
• Start with one practice at a time, don’t go overboard trying to start two or three new things. You will probably give them all up if you do that! My practice has evolved over time to these three, but I didn’t start out with all three. I started with the journaling, eventually added the reading and latest the walking. I’ve done them all off and on but have recognized over time how they work together.
• Don’t follow someone else’s regimented schedule. Maybe start out with suggestions, but experiment, shift, tailor your practice to yourself. We all have different needs, consider any defined practices a starting place. It’s like a buffet, you get to pick and choose what you want to incorporate into your life. There will be people who swear by their schedule, their program – because it works for them. Remember you have to find what works for you.
• When you have let the practice go, and realize that you have let extraordinary circumstances or even everyday life run you over, be kind to yourself. Notice how you feel without it, contrast that with how you felt when you were regularly practicing. Decide if the practice is something you want in your life or not, if it’s worth it to you to make the changes to incorporate the practice as a regular part of your schedule. It’s a choice, it’s up to you. Don’t judge yourself or place unnecessary rules on yourself, be honest and true to the answers you find within.

When you do these things, when you find a regular practice that truly works for you, I can guarantee you won’t want to let it go. The connection that you gain to your true self, your center, becomes vital. The clarity that you will find, the ability to be open and listen to what your authentic self has to say, will help you to discover your passion and purpose better than any other prescribed method around.

(Photo is from Murten, Switzerland)

Real Life Still Life

Everyday, we walk by countless places that people live in, work in, shop in, play in. We don't even see these places most of the time, they are just part of the background noise of our every day lives. The good thing about travel is that it makes you more aware of what's around you, you are open, receptive and seeking. You are actively seeing what is someone else's background noise, what they don't even notice anymore. The little details of real life that are fantastic still life compositions, if we just notice them.

This real life still life was found in a back alley in Murten, Switzerland. My son and I were wandering around the town on our guidebook walking tour, and I caught this flash of blue in the corner of my eye. Not one to miss out on a possible color photo opportunity, we headed down the alley to investigate and found this wonderful little place, where someone had clearly set this scene up with artistic intent. I loved taking pictures here, but this is my favorite of them all, because it just shows the whole scene as created by the artist.

How many people do you think see this, being tucked into a back alley? How many of those people don't even notice it anymore, as part of the background noise in their everday life? It's a good thought to ponder as we go through our everyday. See if you can find a real life still life, accidental or intentional, in your background noise. You don't have to take a picture, just notice it. It takes active looking, an awareness that requires to you be in the moment. You can't be thinking about where you are going, what tasks you need to get done next.

I think you might find it a refreshing, positive experience. And you may find you enjoy the places you go, the things you see every day, just a little bit more. Let me know how it goes.

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So excited, today is my first post over at Mortal Muses! We are currently musing on Reflections. You all know that's a favorite subject of mine. :)  And come back tomorrow for a new Exploring with a Camera -  I can't wait to share it with you! It's a good week, all around.

Making Ideas Real

Flowers in pots on doorsteps or windowsills are favorite subjects of mine. I love the angles of the architecture as a backdrop for the curves of the plants and the pots. There is often interesting contrast in textures and colors of ground, wall, door, pot and plant. I love the care that the inhabitants take in creating the little scene on their doorstep or windowsill. Each one is different, unique, like the people who create them. So I keep being inspired by them; I keep photographing them and sharing them here.

This morning in reading Simple Abundance, one of my favorite books at the moment, I came across this thought from the author Sarah Ban Breathnach, "...While you are offered many dizzying opportunities in a lifetime, Spirit only comes once for each Work seeking creative expression through you, then moves on. The bottom line is that the Work must be brought forth. If you don't do it, someone else will."

Interesting thought to ponder... that these ideas that come along to us are only "ours" as long as we do something with them, make them real. If we don't, someone else will get the opportunity to be inspired by the same idea, and we'll be left in the dust saying, "Hey, I had that idea first." Which, as we all know, doesn't count for anything.

So the "work" I'm doing with my art and the creative inspiration I receive for this blog - whether it's sharing the art of doorstep gardens, the little everyday details I see as we travel around, the ideas that come to me for my Exploring with a Camera series, or the insights into my creative process - are only "mine" as long as I actually use the ideas. Make them into something real.

There is a a saying I love in Italian, "Tra dire e fare c'è di mezzo il mare," which translates roughly to "between saying and doing there lies the sea." I want to be on a boat, crossing that sea, as much as possible. I don't want to lose out on all of these wonderful opportunities that inspiration brings along, even if it's as small sharing the image of a few potted plants on a doorstep. Thanks for joining me along this journey to turn these ideas into something real.

It's That Simple

A pot of flowers on a step. Some color. Some texture. Some contrast. Nice light.

Seeing this made me happy.
Photographing it made me happy.
Rediscovering it in my image files and editing it made me happy.
Sharing it today makes me happy.
Writing about it makes me happy.
Looking at it makes me happy.

Can happiness really be that simple? A photograph of a pot of flowers on a doorstep? Yes, I believe so.

What simple thing makes you happy?

(PS - You can also share your answer here!)

A Single Rose

A single rose, catches my eye, as it climbs up the wall and peeks out beside a now-defunct gate.

A single rose, luscious red contrasting with deeper green foliage and grey stone, becomes the star of its surroundings.

A single rose, a promise of more to come, of more beyond, than just that solitary blossom.

A single rose, found on a walk in the town of Murten, Switzerland, transcends the place it was found. It could be anywhere. Take a walk today, and see if you can find it where you live, that single rose.