Learning to See

To me, photography is an art of observation. It’s about finding something interesting in an ordinary place… I’ve found it has little to do with the things you see and everything to do with the way you see them.

~Elliott Erwitt

In my last post, I shared that this year marks my 10^th anniversary of picking up my camera every day (more or less) to take a photograph. And to celebrate this milestone, I thought it would be fun to revisit some of my favorite photography-related posts. 

I’ve said many times that photography taught me how to see my life differently. And that is what these photos and these stories celebrate – learning to see. My hope is that by sharing them, they will inspire you in your photography practice, or perhaps, maybe just offer you some food for thought.

Today’s post is one that wrote back in January 2013 about learning to see the season of Winter a little differently. Learning to appreciate it for its own special kind of beauty.

The Beauty of Winter

I’ve never been a big fan of winter. For one thing, I hate being cold. Plus I really don’t like wearing a coat. So you can see right away how that can be a bit of a problem for me. And winter in my neck of the woods isn’t all that pretty. We don’t usually get much snow. Well OK, so we can get snow. But usually it doesn’t amount to much.  Plus living in the city, the snow is pretty only for about a day and a half before it turns into a slushy mess.  And as a gardener, winter is kind of bleak.  Other than pulling weeds occasionally there’s not a lot to do, nothing is really growing outside, and, with the exception of a few evergreen shrubs, the landscape is pretty bare. 

But even though all that is true, as I’ve gotten older I am learning to appreciate winter a little more.  Enjoying the quiet and lull in activity after the fullness of the holidays.

Also, it seems that this time of year there is a magical quality to the light that I just love.

And because it’s not 147 degrees outside like in the summer, I welcome these enchanting beams of light into my house with open arms.

One of the other things I’m learning to love about winter is the idea of rest, and that is so perfectly evident in nature. I know this is going to sound strange coming from this certifiable color junkie, but there is a certain restfulness and calming aspect to the muted tones of the landscape this time of year.

Something that I have found quite soothing given the chaotic state of the inside of my house lately.

I’ve also noticed is that, without all the distraction of leaves and flowers, you can really start to notice more the lines and shapes in the landscape. Appreciate the essential structure of a plant and possibly even details that might have gone previously unnoticed.  It’s a different kind of beauty, but beauty nonetheless. At least in my humble opinion.

As you might have noticed, there is a lot of negative space in the photos I’ve shared today – it’s no accident. Negative space was my photography group’s theme last week and my photography class assignment this week. And this is a big challenge for me, because I typically like to fill the frame with my subject.

But what I am learning is that negative space is just as important as the subject (positive space). Negative space in a photo gives the eye a place to rest and gives the subject a little breathing room. Plus it also helps to create balance in the overall image.

I was thinking about negative space in the shower this morning. Because that’s where I do my best thinking of course. (Well besides blow-drying my hair or running that is.) Anyway, when I started to connect the dots a little, and started thinking about this concept in my own life….well I sorta had one of those big lightbulb moments.

What I realized it that I pretty much like to ‘fill the frame’, so to speak, when it comes to my life. Maybe it’s because there is just so much good stuff out there that I want to see and do. Or perhaps {{insert blog confessional here}} it’s because of my own issues with the word ‘empty’ and all its anxiety-filled connotations with respect to ‘nesting’. I suspect it’s probably a bit of both.

But what I have come to realize is this…if negative space can be a good thing (an essential thing!) in a photograph, well then it can also be a good thing in my life too. Like just about everything, it’s all in the way you look at it.

And so if that’s the case, then I guess I can learn to appreciate winter for its own special kind of beauty. For its magical light. For restoration and breathing room. For the quiet and the rest.

For negative space.

Thank you January.

Love, Kelly