As We Near 10K
February 25, 2024
Contents
Re-Introduction
Alone
People, Old and New
Moments in Time
My Photography, Defined
Re-Introduction
I find it fruitful to frequently reassess to ensure that I am still aligned with the goals I set for myself. As we near our first milestone of 10,000 shutter actuations, I would like to reassess by writing about the project once more.
This is a creative project with a defined set of limitations that are flexible in nature to allow fluctuations reflective of my growth, emotions, and creativity. It is a tangible portrayal of discipline that incorporates photography, videography, writing, and cultivating relationships. A more detailed breakdown of the deliverables: short and long-form photo/video content that documents the process in segments, blog posts that incorporate writing, reflection, and shares the missed photos along the way. A zine or similar project at every 10K shutter actuations. A final photo book.
What is not overtly apparent in this list is the space for reflection while on solo photowalks, and the space for communal learning while in conversation with others.
Have I remained on this path?
I believe so. I ended up making daily content for social, posts for each shooting day on the blog, experimented with some long form though I haven’t figured it out entirely, and went on many photowalks both alone and with others. I worked on my photography simply by practicing, asking other photographers questions, and consuming photography books and content.
There are elements that are missing, however. I feel that reflections are lacking as I haven’t found the time to properly give it time. There is an influx of new stimuli and thoughts to sort through; I need to sit down and sift through. My writing has not improved—I haven’t put as much effort into developing this skillset. My vocabulary and expressive range have not been addressed either; I need to consume more texts. The videos feel a little lackluster.
Overall, this is understandable as I invested a lot of time into learning how to use my new camera (Leica M-P type 240) effectively and efficiently. I had a stronger focus on re-learning photography this month and experimented with the content overall. I expect the next month or two to be similar in exploration.
One change I can incorporate to address this, however, may be to do away with the daily social content. In doing so, I should be able to free up some time for deeper reflection and processing of new information. More time can also be delegated to reading and developing my skills in writing.
The next thing to begin working on is the zine. It will be my first time making one so I expect it to be a large time investment but I expect it to be a memorable experience.
Alone
Okay, let us move on to some reflections and images.
When I look at the photographs I have taken thus far, I uncover a gravitation to the notion of solitude and isolation. These are my most…conscious photos. I am very aware of what I am capturing whenever these photos are taken, but intentional is not an apt descriptor. There is a sense of camaraderie with the subject, a pang of empathy, that, while drawing me into the moment, does not spark questions of how to approach the photo. I am curious as to why I somewhat stubbornly attempt to articulate this separation between consciousness and intentionality. For some reason, I feel this asserts that I “feel” the isolation these photos rather than attempt to “convey” with these photos, and this in turn denotes reflection rather than projection. Ah, perhaps this is the crux.
Both reflection and projection inevitably lead one to examine oneself so why is this distinction important? I muse that reflection is more passive and calls for observation while projection is active and calls for deduction. Reflection sets one on a path focused on questioning without denoting action whereas projection leads to measuring and taking steps to resolution. Projection carries an energy and desire to convert that into expression, modification, or some other form of escalation.
As I believe these photos are of a reflective nature, my gravitation towards isolation is simply something to be observed and noticed. With this lens, I do not have any concerns towards my perceived affinity with isolation and can begin to explore the significance of its existence.
This is what I see: I view myself as someone who lives on the border of many normative systems.
For example, in discourse surrounding issues on racism, I see glaring issues rooted in the human condition to treat unfamiliar stimuli with caution and the resulting tendency to establish community through othering, but the majority of conversations seem set on inundating our limited capacities with emotional anecdote after anecdote, information upon information. We expect ourselves and others to be subject matter experts on absolutely everything and do not give ourselves grace in relation to our natural aptitudes and capacities for learning. We devalue pattern recognition and fail to discuss how to feasibly harmonize equity with efficiency.
The ideas of equating career to character, wealth to intellect, volume (“assertiveness”) to ethos; these are all concepts I have struggled to accept since childhood. I could understand them, of course, but accepting that they are such widely adopted information—even value—systems is something I fail to do. That questions to some of these ideas are just now burgeoning, or that these topics have been reduced to arid social media videos, is deeply deflating.
Everything is contextual. Beyond the realm of impulse, I believe most instances of thought must occur on a minimum of 2 planes. Every thought and therefore opinion has multiple contextual pillars supporting it. Knowing that this context is heavily dependent on subjective experience, how can one assume that they have a rigid opinion on anything? This is also why I find it difficult to articulate my thoughts on many occasions. Writing is especially difficult.
That is a little foray into my mind. My self-perceived isolation is partially rooted in the difficulty I have explaining thoughts like those, or on many occasions feeling that others do not share those thoughts naturally, though they can be convinced to arrive at the same destination. It is also rooted in the reality that those thoughts lean on the side of transience. They are always subject to modification and/or improvement, and it feels difficult for me to commit to any one idea in the context of community and society. When I’m alone, it is perfectly fine as I know myself and my mind. We have fun together. When called to be a functioning member of society, however, I understand the value of consistency and coherency, resulting in rampant masking. Masking could be an ill-fitting term for my experience actually; it is more akin to one of two things: antagonistic distillation of my thoughts or magnifying/featuring select aspects of myself.
Then we have the low hanging fruit or base-layers of being a Korean born in Canada, extraverted introversion, anti-academic with a love for academia, and non-imaginative creative. To explore these ideas at length would require far more energy and time than I have at the moment so let us save those for another day.
Returning to the notion of reflection to close this section, these are observations of myself that have taken shape over years of perpetually feeling slightly out of place. During my younger years, these observations would be laced with dismay, lamentations, or simple anger and I would feel the need to either change myself or those around me—indicators of projection rather than reflection. At present, I have done research on my kind of thinking, my innate tendencies when synthesizing and processing information, my potential community. With a stronger understanding of why comes a willingness to let be; hence, my acclimation to a bed of isolation while still having capacity to love and enjoy life. It is a curious phenomenon to describe feeling both full and empty at once, but it is certainly one familiar to me. I wonder how this reflection will grow as my photography does.
People, Old and New
A most amusing trait of mine is that I thoroughly enjoy being with people, meeting new people, learning from and about people. Ironically, my propensity for isolation ceaselessly spurs me on to find community that understands. It is a silly endeavour and idea—why do we romanticize a room full of borderline misfits who most likely don’t fully understand one another anyways—but one that I cannot seem to let go of entirely.
I doubt that I will ever find something like that, but in recent years I believe I have been able to identify a more reasonable equivalent. It is the amalgamation of various well-rounded micro communities with enough breadth to cover an ample number of my needs and desires. By investing in communities, I bolster my sense of identity and belonging, as well as my chances at finding purpose in existence. Purpose is a topic to be explored in the future but I will say it feels like an evolutionary trait requiring a level of delusion. I find that community creates channels for these positive delusions, which is something undeniably productive for existence.
The aspects of community building embedded within this project is therefore indispensable. The photowalks themselves present a great opportunity to either build new connections, or rejuvenate old ones. At present, these walks have largely pertained to the technical aspects of photography as I pursue progress in my craft, but I know too they will eventually carry over into a more reflective and inquisitive space. This is a highly anticipated inflection point.
For those who have lent their time to me, thank you. The people I’ve discussed the parameters and ideals of this project with, your time and minds have been invaluable; I truly appreciate our relationship.
And of course, love. I have begun brainstorming for a video I hope to create eventually that explores this topic further. Certainly an oversaturated topic, but one that is often discussed at surface level or presented with little nuance. To me, love might be the ideal and most powerful delusion, yet its potential for purity also seems to suggest it may transcend simple functions of delusion and evolutionary advantage. I find it to be a textbook on life, capable of capturing the breadth of what it means to be human, every little nuance of species-level discussion down to the granular details of everyday interaction and feeling. It can paralyze just as extensively as it can motivate; it catalyzes creation as adeptly as it can cause cascading destruction. It is sanctity and desecration, maturation and infantilization, knowing and unknowing. I love it.
This is something I see both reflected and projected in my photos, but never to a satisfactory degree. There is a chance I will never be able to distill it down into a single medium such as photography, but it is certainly an appealing and tantalizing endeavour. I think my goal of becoming a great photographer will only be achieved if I can ever successfully capture love’s expanse.
Here presents another pocket of gratitude: to my lifelong partner, family, and friends, as lost as I am and continue to be, thank you for your constant nourishment and enrichment, your provision of guidance perfectly blended into every smile, touch, breath of encouragement, admonition, derision, and criticism. I love you.
Moments in Time
It is perhaps for this reason why moments in photographs are imperative for my camera. These are the data points with which I can later study. My memory is unreliable and flawed, but therein lies a plethora of points I can further examine. Why have I misconstrued a specific moment in the past? What motivates these inaccuracies? If not motivation, which factors have influenced them? If an honest lapse, then what does that signify about my values and priorities? So on and so forth.
In addition to the moments that comprise interpersonal interaction, I see the mundane documentation of my surroundings in my photographs thus far. The foray into photography books and attempting to discern what makes the greats great has spotlighted a beautiful thread of record-keeping, cementing different stages of human history and everyday life. Though not a priority, it has been an intriguing effort to carve out a piece of time with photography. There are notes of community to be found in this perceived collective effort to capture temporal phrases and it yields a need for honesty, which I am fond of. That is, if the collective goal is to capture the society we live in as means of documenting fragments of history, I am of the opinion that we should be led by the ideal of capturing authentically, devoid of agenda or emotional flourish and/or polish. A functional benefit of unadulterated, mundane moments: we have an emotional baseline that underscores incredible moments. The first wave of photos trickling out recently of people in cafes wearing VR headsets for example; this sparks incredulous reactions because we still have a baseline understanding that this is not yet an everyday occurrence.
To this end, I find comfort in taking rather unremarkable photos more often than not. The neighbourhoods I walk through, the skies I have the pleasure of witnessing. Some of these things may drastically change in the next decade; some might not change for millennia. When I or someone else looks back at this present moment, changes or lack thereof may all carry significance. Comfort in knowing that we have always looked at the same sky, the horror at the loss of nature, a lifestyle later marred by the actions of today, or abundant visions realized later on. The question of how today’s mundane moments may or may not change piques my curiosity.
My Photography, Defined
There are many questions that give me pause, but I am usually able to find the beginnings of an answer relatively promptly. At the very least I am usually able to set off a meandering path of thinking that will help me arrive at an answer. When asked what kind of photography I do now, however, I have not been able to accomplish this and usually bumble about with my words.
Taking this time to reflect has given some shape to that answer: reflective, projective, relational, and honest. In technical terms, street and documentary photography seems to be the most fitting umbrella category with thin adjacent streams of portraiture and nature. To be frank, the impact of knowing this information is not readily apparent to me, but I predict it will be important in the future at some point. I believe I am still in the beginning stages of developing a recognizable style so all of this exploration should help me along in that search.
Concurrently, I do not believe it is a goal of mine to fully define photography as I most likely view it as an ever-evolving medium. For now, I love the craft and hope to use it as a vehicle for exploration and expression. If a theme emerges, then I would like to engage with it introspectively.
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I believe that will do it for this entry. It is amusing to see my thoughts detangle as I continue to write. Most of this has been written in one sitting so I am admittedly running out of energy and losing the flow I might have had in the beginning. (I should probably go back to proofread/edit, but I feel like treating this as I would a stream-of-consciousness). Nevertheless, I believe this has cleared up some thoughts while planting a few new ones for me. I hope it has done something similar for you.
Until next time,
-J