Saturday
27th June 2009
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Last: 8 months ago

Thinking About Seeing and Seeing Without Thinking

Obsessing as I am about composition at the moment, I thought it a good idea to write a few of my ideas down, hoping that I can bash them into some sort of logical submission.

It was David Ward's epic post about originality that started my current thoughts. The general background was the phenomenon whereby many photographers visit places they have seen in photographs before and take the same view or visit the seaside at sunset and construct very similar photographs that they have seen in magazines. It made me wonder whether there was something subconcious and/or unintentional happening. I had a feeling that it could be to do with how we 'interpret' a scene in relation to our previous experience and our preprogrammed understanding of the world. i.e. Most people only interpret the view that they have in front of them, very few people actually see it.'tree, stream, mountain, grass' combined with some emotive terms such as 'stark tree','fiery grass', etc.

Let me explain what I mean by "interpret". Given a view of the classic dead tree on Rannoch Moor, most people will survey the scene and their subconcious will filter the visual input and pass the following information on to the brain

.. tree .. pointy hill .. rocky stream .. boggy grass .. etc.

The problem with interpretations is that they are informed by our history and our culture and they are so strong that they overpower the actual scene we were looking at. In my post I made a comparison with how we read words on a page. Firstly, we don't look at letters much; when we read a sentence, we look at word shapes made by ascenders (flk), descenders (jgy), the holes that o's, e's and d's for, etc... and 'guess' what the word is. We also don't actually look at every word if we can guess what the rest of the sentence says. So given a paragraph in a book, we scan these shapes and use our pattern recognition skills to get at the core information.

So what happens when we do actually read a word. I imagine most of us have looked at a word for long enough to start doubting its spelling or even it's meaning at some point. When we really look at a word for some time, our interpretation mechanism becomes suppressed and we start to see the individual letters and pairs of letters. The problem is, we probably have never done this before (not for a long time anyway) and so the word looks 'new'. We have a cognitive dissonance between the fact that we know the word very well combined with the fact we are really seeing it for the first time.

This disabling of the 'interpretive' part of our brains is an important part of our artistic abilities. To give you an idea how important, you need to read some old books on art appreciation and how artists have gradually moved along a path from symbolic representation. Well I've done it for you to save you a little time. The key section that made me really click was in Pliny's history of art where he recognises Nicias as the first person to paint light and shade Chairascuro) which means that before this point, no-one had conciously realised that a solid had different brightnesses when exposed to light. It's difficult for us to understand that people did not interpret vision in the same way that we do now. They literally could not see the view in front of them, they were only able to interpret it. When they saw a view or person, their brain processed the view and decomposed it into it's constituent parts and then they drew their artwork from these parts. Some of the techniques we learn in drawing as children would be revelations to our ancestors. Of course it could be that these acient ancestors knew all about shade and light, perspective and foreshortening but just chose to ignore them all as part of their own 'personal visions' ;-)

How is this relevent to photography? Well we're lucky that our cameras do the drawing for us so all we have to do is see the opportunity and realise it. The problem is that we still need to see the opportunity ourselves but how can we do this if we can't 'see' the wood for the trees (It might just be possible that the reason people take so many photographs with digital cameras is that they are not able to see the result until after it has been taken? They are effectively shooting partly blind)

However, just like when we look at a word for too long it stops being a symbol and you start to see the letters and shapes of the letters, when we are out in the field for a long time, we gradually stop seeing the symbols - sun, rock pool, sand, reflection - and will hopefully start to see the real projected space of things and the real colour, like how the sand shifts colour in the shadows and how the curves of two pools meet each other.

A few friends, including Jason Theaker and Rob Hudson, have pointed out that when they are 'in the zone' taking photographs, it is akin to a form of meditation. This is something I have also felt, not every time but when I do get the feeling I start to see opportunity everywhere. It's like the world was some unfathomable whole and gradually the puzzle parts become clear and the solutions available (even if not manageable). This 'opening' of your perception is a state of mind that should be our goal. Marcel Proust said "The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes." and it is these new eyes that we can unveil by looking harder or more importantly, "looking without thinking". Another great quote from English Writer G.K. Chesterton "If you look at a thing 999 times, you are perfectly safe; if you look at it for the 1000th time, you are in danger of seeing it for the first time.".

This state, sometimes called mindfulness, is fairly well known and there is book called 'The Tao of Photography' that, judging by the first chapters which you can read on google books, will make for an interesting read on the subject. Although it only talks about Mindfulness in a couple of places, the whole concept is very much oriented around the Zen practise of just 'being', just 'looking. (seeking mindfulness however is not mindful - damn!).

So what we, as photographers, do when we are in this altered state is to capture a view of our environment that the general viewer would overlook. If we can overcome our initial gestalt perceptions, we bring a new way of seeing to our audience.

However, we can also use our new found knowledge of how perception works to create better works of art. There are various perceptive capabilities that our eyes/brain have that allow us to infer extra information from the view in front of us. Most of these capabilities are to do with making decisions on insufficient information - for instance, we will infer the remainder of a shape where only it's edge is showing (obvious survival benefits here - human: "ooh is that a bear behind that tree!", bear: "gestalt, schmestalt!... dang"). I hope to expand on how you may use knowledge of your viewers perceptive abilities to create better compositions over the next couple of weeks. For now, I'll leave you with an interesting observation about leading lines in photography.

When viewers 'scan' our pictures, they do not do so in a linear fashion i.e. their eye does not follow a linear path across a picture, absorbing content as it goes. Instead, our eye jumps in small movements called 'saccades' and then rest for a moment if there is something 'interesting'. The resting points are called 'fixations'. It turns out that our eyes 'cannot' smoothly scan from one part of a picture to another. However, if there is a line feature in our picture, it gives our eye a continuous progression of fixation points to follow and, subconciously, our eye prefers to follow this than to skip onto another 'unknown' part of the picture. Also, when your eye is in its 'saccade' state, your visual system is suppresed (although not completely shut down) so that you don't really 'see' anything in between fixations.

Another perceptual nuance is our ability to 'fill in the blanks' (Gestalt Theory' law of continuity) when we see a broken shape or line e.g. if we were to see a partial or broken line, our brain creates virtual 'filler material' where the gaps are to produce a full shape, also strongly preferring primary shapes, lines, circles, triangles...

Combining these two perceptual features together, we can start to understand just what leading lines in pictures are doing. The core 'sharp' focus are, our fovea, only covers a couple of degrees and saccades can typicalluy cover about 15-20 degrees but typically only traverse about 4 degrees. So our eye either takes a big jump across a section of the picture, not seeing anything in between (Try viewing this video and try really hard to count the number of ball passes.. once you have done so, click here), or they can follow a line in the picture (real or gestalt) and absorb the features along that path. When our eye gets to the end of a line, it has to 'jump' somewhere, either back to something it saw on the line previously or possible to an area of high contrast or interest - remember that your eye does not see detail outside of the fovea so unless you have some strong feature in your picture, your eye/brain won't have anything to be attracted to.

So we can now explain leading lines, strong fixation points; we can even assume that those 'dead' areas people talk about in critiqueing pictures are where the eye can't gets to via a leading line and that have no strong feature to trigger a large saccade to.

Obviously we wouldn't want to be thinking about all of this as we are looking for pictures, but it may be useful to bear this in mind when we are doing our final checks. You should try to see the picture as if for the first time and follow the suggested lines. Do they lead out of the picture or do they keep the flow of the eye moving within? When a line ends, is there anywhere for the eye to go? Does your eye get caught in one part of the picture?

The subject of perception and art is one that is fascinating and slightlty scary. As much as I want to know more about how the eye works, I really don't want to 'pollute' my mindful eye. All of this is interesting knowledge and is of some use when critiqueing pictures but our ultimate goal should be to allow these concious thoughts about composition and balance to become part of our subconcious, allowing our own impulses to mingle with our compositional skills to create somethig uniquely personal.

Comments (skip to bottom)

Highlight this Comment Simon Miles02/07/2009, 16:52

A thought provoking and interesting post. It is a devil of a trick this one. We spend all that time carefully critiquing our photographs, analysing our successes and failures, studying the work of photographers we admire, reading and learning about photography, art and the philosophy of seeing. And then... when it is finally time to make a photograph, the trick is to do it without thinking about it. I do like that word mindfulness, which seems to me to perfectly describe the ideal perceptive / receptive (bot not overly analytical) state of mind that works best.

I often wonder why it is so difficult to make an original photograph, by which I don't necessarily mean something truly unique and ground-breaking, but rather just an image which expresses my own personal response to what I see. I am certain that I see the world slightly differently to anyone else, and that we all possess this uniqueness, but successfully expressing this unique vision in a photograph is quite another thing.

Some years ago I found myself at Bryce Canyon with Light and Land. It is a truly awe-inspiring place but, even now, I find it almost impossible to think of Bryce Canyon without thinking of the iconic images which have come to define it. Despite many attempts, and making extensive use of long lens compositions, I found it impossible to capture an original image (in the terms I have just described) from the canyon rim. It was only when I descended into the canyon and began to explore this less familiar environment that I was able to properly explore, and begin to express in my images, my personal response to this magical place.

I seem to have gone a bit off topic (sorry) but you did start by mentioning David's post about originality, so I suppose that was at the back of my mindful eye!

PS You can see some of my images on the Light and Land website. Compare my image from Inspiration with the Bristlecone Pine study to get a feel for what I mean. There are other images in the gallery which convey the same general point, I think.

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Highlight this Comment Tim Parkin02/07/2009, 20:19

Thanks for the comment Simon - I agree about the dichotomy between visual inspiration/research and mindfulness.. I think the trick is to study more pictures of stuff you don't necessarily like but work out what you do like about them. Hopefully this 'distribution' of influences will stop a single infuence from being dominant in your sub-conciousness. I imagine there are a lot of photographers out there who only have books by Joe Cornish, Charlie Waite, David Noton etc and whose subconcious is so saturated with their 'style' that they are unable to see anything else..

Your Checkerboard Mesa shot is nice - David Whistance's Snow and Twisted Wood is really nice too..

I do think we need to treat photogrpahy as one continuous case of cognitive therapy - allow our selves to have instinctive reactions but continously question them and push the ideas around with our concious. This way we can progress and expand our creative repertoire

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Highlight this Comment Jason Theaker03/07/2009, 09:29

Wow such an in-depth analysis Tim, very interesting.

Seeing an image after taking it helps you refine your seeing skills. It like looking at other work in a book. The key thing here is the ability to refine your own seeing skills and this is improved by analysing, critiquing and experimentation. This is why I wanted to try and get some kind of critiquing evening going as I see evaluation as one of the most important tools at improving my own work.

The zone you mention is a wonderful place to be. For me the subconscious is at play hear. I cannot possibly process all my past evaluations in the present. Man I would overheat very fast and not ever get out of the door. So my mind uses its subconscious intuition in order to let feelings guide my perceptions. The analysis and evaluations are done in small chunks elsewhere, and when in the zone I can let my subconscious take over....

I have to say, I am disturbed by how similar my view is at Windermere to the example you gave. I don’t recall consciously recall seeing that shot, (did you show me his book?) and I wonder if I’m subconsciously paying homage to it, or falling on similar influences. The shot was after all a quick capture whilst Cathy was hassling me by bipping the horn to get me to hurry up....

Highlight this Comment pixelda06/07/2009, 16:00

When I went on a recent Joe Cornish Workshop recently, you had to take some of your pictures to discuss. Several of mine were taken from the same place as Joe's, with some taken a couple of years ago before I knew who Joe was, and others more recently, where after I saw them in his books. I bought a National Trust book and discovered out of the way places in Wales I had photographed that Joe had already been to some years previously. Clearly, it is possible for many photographers to analyze a scene and come up with a similar camera location. Back in my mainframe programming days, Jackson Structured Programming was designed to allow different programmers to come up with similar programs from the same Business Requirements starting point.

I do try not be too influenced by others, in order that 'my' style can develop, but any image you see can have a lasting and underlying impact on you, even years later.

For me, I know I am a quick worker - I see the picture and it is quickly photographed. My next step is to see if there is a better picture of the scene. However, I perform a lot of analysis every day, and have been a problem solver all my working life, so getting to a solution (in this case a composition) is usually a quick process - I just can't help it. When I watch films or TV, to my wife, I annoyingly recite a few words, which a few moments later, the actor then says – how can I do that? I do not know, but in there is a pattern or a key, which opens a box in my mind with the answer. Years ago, I got banned from playing Cluedo with the family because I often won before some had got their first clue.

I don’t analyze my technique, but simply use it. Yes there are mental checklists to do to capture the image technically well, and that the composition without faults, and that there is a theme running through the image, lining up objects and getting comparative sizes looking neat.

Fortunately, I don’t get paralysed by analysis, which can be an issue for some. However, new areas can be difficult to solve, such as the more coastal rock abstract pictures I am trying to create, which Tim is already masterful at. I think this is due to my a lack of experience with the subject, since my techniques elsewhere work acceptably. It has taken 3 years from my first dSLR to get comfortable with photography, especially with others around me. Now I can go out and enjoy, and also enjoy the company of those who are also photographers

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Highlight this Comment Julian07/07/2009, 11:07

Interesting. I have to admit to not subjecting my picture-taking to any great analysis but I did find myself taking mental notes on how I go about approaching an opportunity at the weekend. Possibly as a result of reading so many photography blogs. Who can say? ;-)

I was in the New Forest in Hampshire and noticed some early-blooming heather amongst the bracken, as well as a lone pine on a low ridge. Sensing possibilities, I wandered around fairly aimlessly. After a bit of walking, I saw that some bracken was turning yellow amongst the tide of green. I played with the idea a bit and then moved on. Eventually I discovered a clump of yellowing bracken amongst some flowering heather. Perfect! Exactly what I was looking for - the single element that is a little different from its surroundings. And I guess that's my MO, really. Find a promising area, explore it and then let the ideas come to me.

Oh yes. The lone tree. When I finally got there, it was, well, a bit rubbish. :-)

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Highlight this Comment adamp08/07/2009, 12:21

A few simple thoughts from a simple mind…. Tim, this is a most interesting post bringing together some threads which have been talked about elsewhere (books and blogs) and adding some new ideas to stimulate our minds. Certainly I do agree that our reaction to scenes before us will be conditioned by past experience - early childhood perhaps as well as images we have seen more recently as adults. I also agree fully with Simon about the difficulty of finding original views of somewhere like Bryce.

Going back to the topic of perception, I would not want to stop and analyse each scene in terms of leading lines, saccade viewing and so on before shooting it. Perhaps with practice the process becomes very quick and so we don’t need to think about it – it’s second nature. But if we consciously conduct such an analysis, then is there a risk that it will take away the fascination, the magic of what we see? Wouldn’t that then result in highly structured images along the lines of those often found at judging evenings in photo societies/clubs? Perish the thought!

So perhaps the need is for spontaneously recognising a scene that is inherently attractive but then constructing (I like that word) an image which builds on a deliberate analysis of the elements in front of the lens – why it attracts us. It’s the old dilemma of what to leave out.

Finally, Simon you my be interested to know that your bristlecone pine shot was a source of real inspiration which I was unable to build on until the L&L tour to Sierra Nevada last year. My shots are totally different to yours, but very definitely inspired by your take. Thanks! Rgds., Adam

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Highlight this Comment Simon Miles09/07/2009, 12:14

Adam, thanks for your kind words about my Bristlecone Pine photograph. Interestingly, this was one of those images made when I found myself in the zone, as Jason describes it. You are absolutely right, in the field the experience is mostly instinctive. Obviously, we need to think about focus, exposure, etc. But the process of composition is much more intuitive than analytical (at least for me). The analysis comes later, when we have time to assess the success or failure of the image we have made. Crucially, this post-rationalisation, as Ansel Adams called it, somehow feeds into the intuitive and instinctive processes we use the next time we are out in the field. This feedback process seems to be the key to developing a personal style and finding a way to express our own vision. Easier said than done, of course, but it is very satisfying when it all clicks, as in my Bristlecone Pine moment. By the way, I like your Sierra Nevada images very much. It looks like a trip I wonder enjoy (were it not for work commitments, family, children, etc...!).

Highlight this Comment Tim Parkin09/07/2009, 14:19

Hi Simon. You say that you don't apply analytical thought during the image creation and I can understand this up to a point However I do think that an intuitive composition followed by a last minute analytical check will pick up quite a few 'problems' while you are still out in the field and can do something about it. For instance, following the flow of implied curves/lines around a picture may reveal a discontinuity that a slight re-shuffle could correct? When I'm working on a picture I let my intuitive nature run amok but I do probably do some post-rationalisation in the field as well.

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Highlight this Comment Jason Theaker09/07/2009, 17:34

All this talk about analysis is deeply interesting at developing our intuition in the field.

For me, if I try and analyse things too much whilst making images, my mind gets distracted. the zoning out that I spoke about, is when you "know" things are working, and you don’t need to interrupt that flow by bring in analysis... the few times I do get zoned in, the post shoot analysis I inevitably always do, backs up the way I felt whilst shooting.

I have a strong belief that our gut feeling (zoning, whatever you like to call it) is a very powerful subconscious force. It in some way connects many more thoughts together than are possible in our consciousness. I like to think of it as accessing the hard drive and because our ram and processor has reached its limits.

I believe our conscious mind has its limitations and subconscious is a lot more powerful than we give it credit for. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying, don’t analyse it, but am saying, try not to do it in the field... (It can spoil the flow, for me anyway).

Highlight this Comment Tim Parkin09/07/2009, 18:33

Jason - if you haven't read it before, you will really like 'Blink' by Malcolm Gladwell. It will confirm a lot of what you've been thinking.. It talks about fire fighters knowing what is going to happen without knowing why at the time but realising it was lots of subtle signals combined together. With many other examples he confirms these instances again and again.

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Highlight this Comment Simon Miles09/07/2009, 19:42

Tim, if was going to be pedantic, I would respond by saying that it would be impossible (without a time machine) to do post-rationalisation in the field! But I take your point, and I am sure there is scope for some analysis in the field, provided that we do not follow the "rules" of composition (lead-in lines etc) too strictly. At the very least, you have sparked an interesting debate - all good stuff!

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Highlight this Comment Dylan Reisenberger11/07/2009, 21:43

Another lucid post (ditto everyone’s comments) touching on so many interesting themes – influences, how to bring both conscious and subconscious to bear, 'seeing' an opportunity or composition, 'the zone' ... where to start?!

On disabling the interpretive part of our brain, one technique I have come across and occasionally found helpful is to de-focus the camera lens – this at the stage of refining or constructing a composition. The ‘recognisable’ elements disappear; the overall forms come more to the fore. Sometimes (sometimes) this has helped me get a clearer sense of where the relative weight of elements lay in a composition, and whether that needed adjusting.

@Tim: the material on saccades is really helpful and already helps me understand where compositions I had doubts over fall down (drat!), as well as why one or two eccentric ones which excited me still do so. Thanks for such a clear and detailed explanation – already looking forward to the next instalment.

I agree with everyone about 'getting into the zone', and am particularly grateful to Simon’s phrasing about a perceptive / receptive state of mind – that so is it. But how to encourage, to inculcate that receptiveness? – does anyone have any favourite tricks for getting into the zone? Immersion, freedom from distraction, absorption in one’s surroundings, being at ease with oneself... (the ‘just being’ and emptying one’s mind that Eastern philosophies so highlight??). From my experience, it is all of those, but also crucially about being open to (opening oneself up to) one’s emotional responses to the landscape. My feeling is that, just like our brain ‘manages’ the scene in front of us and converts forms into denotations (tree, hill etc), there is a tendency to ‘manage’ our emotional reactions with the rational parts of our brain – a useful lifeskill for socialisation no doubt – but my best photography comes when I allow myself to be more connected (and so to see personally) ... respond to the ‘pull’ and then (as Adam says) start on the construction or execution.

Re whether one can practise both conscious and subconscious construction while out in the field (or whether one ‘interferes’ with the other), I guess it will differ for different people, but for what it’s worth, like Adam and Tim I find I am using both at different stages. My process is much like Adam’s (only he has put it much more succinctly ;) : the instinctive, the subconscious wants to dominate the phase of ‘seeing an opportunity’ – what to photograph (and as an aside I feel that remaining keenly in touch with our own emotional responses to the landscape is the way to see off undue influences, to develop our own vision and style rather than imitate archetypes we have seen). But the rational / conscious kicks in again for ‘Am I making this image in the best way I can?’. Then again, if, as Adam and Jason say, one finds one is ‘thinking too hard’, cue reach for instinct again. ... ... What I find deeply tricky tho is remaining mentally 'agile' enough when in the field to switch seamlessly and quickly between the two. I guess the goal must be (as Tim, Adam, Simon have already said) to make those processes part of our subconscious, so that they can be executed without interfering too much with that crucial responding innerly to what we see.

On that last point several people have referenced – whether or how ‘consciously’ thinking through these things can feed back into our subconscious so that it later becomes second nature – I was reminded of that adage whereby learning a skill is said to progress from unconscious incompetence thru conscious incompetence to conscious competence and finally unconscious competence (reference). But, does anyone have thoughts about how to ‘internalise’ those understandings, how to take the fruits of our reflections into our subconscious arsenal? The only answer I can come to is practice combined with reflection. Studies of how people learn musical instruments have often shown that there is a phase where people undergo a step-change in competence without being able to explain why (many of us perhaps have a similar experience from learning to drive). It seems that some subconscious laying down of skill occurs in this special stage, but it comes about through practice – which we can of course consciously decide to do. So is it – Practise, reflect, feel, practise? ‘Reflection’ (perhaps offline) developing understanding which the practice internalises? ...

Apos for the marathon post (now back to the wife and kids!) – but it's a measure of the amount of stimulating material that Tim and everyone in their comments is generating!

Highlight this Comment Tim Parkin12/07/2009, 12:35

Hi Dylan - Thanks for the comment - I'll have a think before I answer but I just wanted to say I love the unconcious incompetence quote!

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Highlight this Comment Simon Miles12/07/2009, 19:14

Just thought I would drop in to see if this is going any further and I too enjoyed Dylan's post and the stages of incompetence. I like the idea of defocussing the camera. One other trick I often use, before even unpacking the camera, is to close or cover one eye. This reduces depth perception and gives a crude, but useful, approximation of how something might look in a two dimensional image. I find it particularly useful in complex environments such as woodland. I also sometimes walk about using my hands to frame potential compositions. Really, it's a miracle I haven't fallen and broken a leg by now.

Going back to the perception issue, Tim mentions 'Blink' and the fire fighters who know what is going to happen by subconsciously responding to lots of subtle signals combined together. I think the same sort of thing happens with photography. With experience, we become tuned in to certain shapes, colours, textures, lighting effects, etc. Probably we have seen and photographed them before. This is reinforced during analysis or post-rationalisation and the next time we are out in the field we are more attuned to these visual patterns or signals, without necessarily being consciously aware of it. This would explain why the work of experienced photographers often features various recurring themes, such as Joe C's foreground boulders.

However, I think it is more sophisticated than simply tuning in to patterns we have seen and used before. This process of attunement (don't think attunement is a real word, but you get the idea) helps us find the zone, as we have all described it, thereby opening up new possibilities beyond what we have seen before. When I begin to photograph in a new location, I am often drawn to compositions that are similar to something I have used before. I don't like repeating myself, so I tend to resist them. However, this often leads on to new ideas. To pick up Dylan's musical analogy, it is like a musician practising a few scale to warm up before attempting a new composition. Without playing the scales first, the new composition would probably fail.

In conclusion, then, I agree with Dylan when he says it's all about practice and reflection - with the goal of gradually reducing our level of incompetence!

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Highlight this Comment adamp12/07/2009, 22:19

“I also sometimes walk about using my hands to frame potential compositions” – ah yes, the Ward approach! 4”x 5” as near as dammit according to his fingers! Yes to that (however silly I may look), and the closed eye is another good technique. Nevertheless I still manage to regularly fall into unconscious incompetence but only realise it when the slides have come back from the lab :( I also recently realised that a successful image makes me re-shoot similar themes later. For example ferns, reflections on moving water, blue sky reflected in windows, defocused flowers etc etc. Though each new image seems to build further on the previous success.

More interesting though is that sometimes I walk past a subject and a few yards further on decide to go back – a sort of delayed response I suppose, as though I needed a few seconds to process what I saw and arrange the elements into a potential image. It always takes further work to resolve the composition, but something triggered my mind to start working. This has to be unconscious perception of some sort. I rarely fail to then make a picture, though I do regularly walk away from subjects which stopped me in my tracks, even though I may have tried to work on them for quite some time. Conscious failure perhaps?

Simon – Death Valley and the Sierras is a great tour, highly inspirational, though hard work with all those dawn starts! Rgds., Adam

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Highlight this Comment Charles Twist15/07/2009, 07:48

Interesting original post and interesting answers - thanks everyone.

I use my hands to frame as well, not realising it was that common. I have been accused of playing with my air camera. At least it's cheap. If the frame formed by the fingers is approximately 4"x5", then the distance from the eye to the frame is near enough the focal length of the lens you need. Another neat trick.

In response to Dylan, I find that having to be sociable/companiable is the greatest distraction and once that is removed I can go about my business of finding viewpoints. I agree on the need to refine the initial vision and narrow down to that one thing which shouted 'yes' in my subconscious. I think this is where the inversed, reversed view of the LF world really comes in as it obliges one to concentrate on the graphical nature of the shot. It would be interesting to hear everyone's thoughts on this.

Finally, I admit to finding gestalt interesting, but it is of its time. And at that time, artists were exploring all manner of forms of representation and challenging the theories of perception. What is useful about all the theorising afforded by this blog post, is that it can help to stretch one's powers of expression. Sometimes the results work in an intellectual way rather than a graphical one, but is that a failure?

Best regards, Charles

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