Once upon a time, all we had was film, and we had to wind it.
Aphotoeditor wrote a great post about why photographers should blog. I've got a fifth reason: the process of writing for is another method to improve and focus my own photography.
When I started this blog, I was writing privately for friends and family while we were in New Zealand for three months. At some point (probably about 2006), about when I started selling some pictures and wanted to sell some more, I decided to link it to my website and open it up to the search engines. I revisited every post, cringing my naivete in some posts but leaving them in so that others might learn from my mistakes. I edited out some names and kids' photos and deleted a couple posts where I whinged too much or didn't have permission to share the content, like the secret location of the baby hawks we banded in 2003.
For a long time, I talked around the US 89 project instead of coming right out and naming it. That was a mistake. When Bruce Hucko advised me to shout it from the rooftops, I listened, which meant editing and tagging my posts and started blogging more about my adventures on the highway. Almost immediately I saw my traffic increase, and my ranking on the search term rise to the first page. I worried that people would steal my ideas and content. Some have, but I guess that's part of the price of having good ideas. It's not all out on the web, don't worry.
So my blog serves most of the purposes Aphotoeditor lists, mostly as a marketing tool for the book-to-be. The Photowalking adventure in community building has come directly out of our blogs. I am occasionally guilty of Aphotoeditor's only "don't": posting the less than greatest photos I take. He's right, in that my on-line portfolio is only as good as my worst photo, and I doubt any commercial client would ever want to read about the kittens or yarn. I put them in anyway because my book is about my stories on the highway. The book won't be autobiographical, but it will be about what I do: meeting people on this great ribbon across the American West: people who knit, raise horses, study dinosaurs, paint the parks, drive buses and sell lumber. It's the human connection I'm after, and my experience is that holding back my quirks and frailties impinges on my ability to forge those connections. Honesty, openness, willingness: that's the HOW it works for me out there on the road, and I would feel silly trying to self-edit that out of the blog. I take inspiration from the 37days, who parlayed their very personal blogs into published books.
My five year blogiversary is at the end of this month, which makes me an old-timer in the crowd. A good blogger asks the same question as a good photographer: "what do I want to say here?" Writing for the blog gives me a place to sharpen my ideas about my subject and my photographic approach to that subject. In the words of Ken Verdoia that I've quoted before, good communication means "know what you want to say, say it, stop." If I can't write clearly about my project, can I make photos that evoke what I want to say about it? After I've written a draft on a section of the highway, the next time I drive that stretch I see and photograph it differently. The same principle applies whether I'm writing about Photoshop, other photographers I admire, or how to photograph neon. The act of writing it out transforms my understanding. If I've done it well, the reader is spared most of the twists and dead end alleys of the process, but even those can be useful at times.
I know that many people dislike writing. Maybe photography appeals to you as a communication medium because it's not writing. But I would say that if you aren't getting the results you want out of a photo project, write out your goals, if only for private consumption. The words may not come easily, but they won't be wasted. You can reuse them later for proposals and applications. (If you can find them. I lost my original Highway 89 notes for about four years.) You can refine your one-minute pitch on your project that you'll use to persuade people to help you. You might see that the concept is insanely overambitious and revise it into something that can be accomplished in a mere mortal's lifetime. Most importantly, you'll cut your own measuring stick to answer the question: does this photo really say what I mean about my subject?
Putting your words out in the public has its risks, but there is an advantage to the pressure to produce. You have to feed a blog (like a vat of sourdough) to keep it going, and you feed it with fresh words, which demands discipline and regular practice. For me it's been worth it, but there are a few pitfalls. It's a non-trivial investment of time, and nothing looks sillier than a decaying blog. Aphotoeditor suggests careful thought on what you publish because "Google never forgets." And as Ken Verdoia would say, know when to stop.
Comments (1)
Excellent post, Ann and thanks for including my candid as a part of it!
- mike
Posted by Mike Calanan | July 23, 2008 2:03 PM
Posted on July 23, 2008 14:03