Learning to wait

Learning to wait is a struggle for everyone. It rarely exists in a young child, but as we mature we hopefully develop an increased ability to wait and be patience. Living most of my 74 years in a very small town, waiting was seldom a concern because dealing with crowds and traffic was never an issue. My little town didn’t have a traffic light, and waiting in line to buy something was a rare event. Now living my retirement years in a community with a high density population, I have to learn to deal with waiting and the frustration that comes with that. It is a certaiinty that humans have little capacity to wait. I see it in nearly every situation I am in when out in public. Rude people are people who have no capacity to wait, and sadly as the speed of our lives quicken there will be more rude people to deal with in our lives. So how does all this refer to photography and the process to create? As photographers the more we learn to wait and be patience the better our work will become. Unlike other artist, we have to wait on the light, the weather conditions, and the potential obstacles to get to the location of where we want to make an image. Looking through the many years of the images I have made in various locations I think about the time that was required to get to the location and then wait for the good light to hopefully appear. I sort of equate photography with fishing. You buy all the right equipment. get up early and head out with great expectations for the day, but more times than not you come home empty handed. No fish or no photographs. In my early years this use to frustrate me as a wasted day with nothing to show for it. But as the years passed I realized that the special images, the true keepers, was well worth the wait an effort. Just like fishing, you always remember that big fish you once caught, and when heading out, that is hope and goal. You learn over time that if you come home empty handed it is all part of the experience of pursuing your passion. I made this image in Newfoundland on Fogo Island. I rolled out of my warm comfortable bed on a cool morning and drove out in the early morning light only to find a dense fog at the location I wanted to photograph in. A bit discouraging, but I waited as the sun started to rise over the North Atlantic ocean and burned through the fog. The image I was hoping for was turned out better than expected and it is all because I was willing to wait at the location.

Fogo Island

 It was a foggy morning as I searched around Fogo Island in Newfoundland for a pleasing scene to photograph.  I came upon these three boats and at first I kind of dismissed them for making a pleasing image.  Mainly because there were so many other interesting structures with boats around area that held my attention.  That was four years ago and recently I was going through some files of that trip and came across this image.  I was intrigued by the simple quiet composition and could see potential in the image.  It is strange, but I usually find these lost and forgotten images during a period of sleeplessness in the middle of the night and immediately start working on them with enthusiasm.  The stillness in the scene represents the stillness of the night and completes the creative cycle. 

Fogo Island-NL

I am always in search of remote place that's kind of frozen in time.  A place where technology hasn't erased the traditional culture of the area.  It is getting difficult to find places where our modern technology hasn't changed a long history of culture in one generation.  Currently big tech companies are launching over 3,300 internet satellites to cover every square inch of the world.  A drastic change will come to places that are not part of the culture of high tech and social media.  I question what effect this will have when all humans are walking around with their necks bend over looking into a 3"x5" screen.  Who will control the world and what information will be inputted to our devices to feed our minds and form our beliefs.  The above image was made on Fogo Island.  It is a place in transition but still reflects the culture of the people that migrated here to fish in the cold arctic seas.  The place is quiet and much of the old fishing industry is still evident with the wooden boats and stages on the shorelines.  The people that live here come from a long history of the hard work of fishing at sea that forms a deep bond with their neighbors.  These places with the people that live there are special to me.  How long it will remain is uncertain.  Change is inevitable but not always good.