Seeing as We Are.

As I leave the parked car, there’s a sense of stillness in the air. At this hour the external noise of everyday life is quiet. Mist hangs in the valley and the sight raises my anticipation and excitement for the morning ahead. As I head into the landscape, through the gate, the click of the bolt brings a feeling of comfort, it’s like stepping into a new reality, one of escape and creativity. The noise of my footsteps on the gritstone path echo across the moor, the eerie calls of the curlews bring a familiar sound. The view of the woodland ahead looks magical, the trees obscured by the heavy fog. Teasing, like ghostly statues. It has been a while since I had a morning like this.

I’m here to enjoy the stillness, to make pictures. Heading into the woodland, it’s overwhelming, too much for the senses to take in. It often feels like this at first, balancing the fear of too much expectation against being calm and present. I have to be open to observation.
Pausing among the trees, just enjoying the sounds and feelings, its a process for me of being patient. Not to force seeing a picture; it’s difficult not to let the frustration creep into my thoughts, just accept the moment, being here, trusting in the practise often brings results.

Standing here, I wonder how two photographers can stand in the same spot and make very different pictures. How differently we each approach a scene, drawing on our own life experiences to make sense of what we see.

There’s a quote from Anais Nin

“We don’t see things as they are. We see them as we are.” -.

This is very true. Our life experience, the ups and downs, the people who we know, the things we seek to enjoy, film, music, form our thinking, our beliefs. These layers of emotion and experience shape and influence how we see the world. Our memories, something to refer to, things that we relate to personally.

These experiences and decisions then find their way into the photograph. When you look at the print or the screen afterwards, we not just seeing the subject, there is something of us reflected back. Drawing on this, bringing it into our work, it becomes personal, individual. The landscape becomes a mirror, reflecting our thoughts back to us.

Everytime I return the landscape is familiar, but I’m not. I wonder if each visit will be different, because next time I’ll be different, maybe a little wiser, a little more knowledge. A new life experience learnt to bring something new to my vision. Maybe embracing this keeps my photography new.

Perhaps that’s why I keep creating, I’m not just photographing the landscape I’m discovering how I’ll see it today.