You might remember a picture of my fallen oak that I posted a month or so ago:
Yesterday George Fisher turned up, was here for a few hours, and now look:
And look how different those two photographs are. Years ago I listened, in the car, to a tape (yep, right) of a lecture by Alan Watts, the British writer and speaker who was an interpreter and popularizer of Eastern religions and philosophies for Westerners. I remember where I was when I heard it and what car I was driving, but not what year it was or what the title of the talk might have been. But he spoke about the desire of people to "lean on the world," thinking that the world was mostly solid and dependable, and instead asserting that even the apparently solid world was a river of change. You think an apple is real and has physical presence, but in a hundred years, where is the apple? Even the mountains rise and fall.
Jay Maisel talks about this in relation to photography in his simple but excellent photography tutorial books, especially Light, Gesture & Color and It's Not About the F-Stop. The same picture seldom presents itself twice. In Watts' terms, the river has moved on. Permanence is illusory. It's one of my faults that I'm always thinking to myself that I can come back and take a picture later; Jay would not approve. I'd be better off as a photographer with the opposite mindset.
Well, let's not get too deep. I've been behind on the comments all week (I'm still not back up to speed here, if I'm honest), but note the tracks on the grass of the heavy equipment George brought in to move the fallen oak. And note that the title of Jay's second book named above is already becoming anachronistic—he meant that the things photo enthusiasts care about aren't as important as they think they are—but the majority of young photo mavens these days have only the faintest vague clue what an "ƒ-stop" might be. Still, we take the old Master's point.
Mike
Original contents copyright 2018 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site.
B&H Photo • Amazon US • Amazon UK
Amazon Germany • Amazon Canada • Adorama
(To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below.)
Featured Comments from:
Wayne: "'Sooner or later...we have to risk everything in order to gain everything. We have to gamble on the invisible and risk all that we can see and taste and feel. But we know the risk is worth it, because there is nothing more insecure than the transient world.' —Thomas Merton, Thoughts in Solitude (from the Thomas Merton Daily Quotes Facebook page, March 13, 2017)."
Peter Wright: "I have to say, I was surprised to see Thomas Merton popping up on TOP, even if it was just in the comments! But how very appropriate a quote—thanks Wayne! He has to be one of the most profound writers of the 20th century. Not many people know that Merton was also in later life, an enthusiastic photographer. I saw an exhibition of his work in Toronto some years back."
Francisco Cubas: "One of the first humans to talk about this was Heraclitus, with his famous quote: 'No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.' It was a favourite of J.L. Borges. I'm glad you are better Mike."
He cleaned up the snow in a couple of hours? That's impressive.
Learning to live on shaky ground is mostly about finding somewhere else that is safe - even in the knowledge that the safe place is, perhaps, a construct.
Posted by: David Bennett | Friday, 06 April 2018 at 09:10 AM
I recently added Jay's "It's not about the f-stop" to my collection (already had 'Light, Gesture and Color'). Both are still excellent and relevant.
I definitely agree: what we see, when we see it, is what the image can be. Later it's another image.
Posted by: Rob de Loe | Friday, 06 April 2018 at 09:20 AM
Mike wrote, "It's one of my faults that I'm always thinking to myself that I can come back and take a picture later ... "
Many times I've walked past a picture turned around, walked back and grabbed it. Usually I'm disappointed by the result. Having the actual picture relieves me of any guilt caused by missing it.
No more "would'a, should'a, could'as."
Posted by: Speed | Friday, 06 April 2018 at 09:26 AM
Photographers do notice change, even subtle change like a sudden thin haze of clouds that makes the light just right for a few minutes (bright with some shadow but not harsh).
I used to have a certain level of anxiety about not being out when I'm likely to get the good shots (basically any time I looked out and saw decent light). Now I've accepted that there will be other images, other days (or not).
If we take things too far we are like beauty squirrels, darting about and stashing away our fragments of splendor for later consumption. Sometimes it's better to just stand along the edge of the river and see what floats by. :)
Posted by: John Krumm | Friday, 06 April 2018 at 09:29 AM
Where I live used to be a small village but there are so many new houses being built that it won't be long before all the green spaces have gone and our village is joined up on both sides with the two large towns/cities on either side (Manchester and Warrington). From the window where I'm writing this I can see a new development of houses almost finished to one side and directly in front a new development that was finished a few years ago. It's like it must be to watch a newly dammed valley fill up with water to become a lake.
Anthony
Posted by: Anthony Shaughnessy | Friday, 06 April 2018 at 10:00 AM
And then you fix those tracks by seeding new grass, which you’ll later find out is a slightly different color than the existing grass and forever after (no offense to Watts or Maisel), you keep seeing those tracks in your garden.
At least that explains the tracks in my lawn...
Posted by: John | Friday, 06 April 2018 at 10:37 AM
Just checked iBooks and “Light, Gesture and Texture” is available for $31.99. That’s nice ‘cause I like books on my iPads. Although there are three full bookcases available I just tend to the iBooks. So, I downloaded the ‘sample’ iBook. It was a total of 20 pages five of which were text from what seems to be the introduction but NO illustrations. Somehow I would like to see an example or two of the images and how they look on the iPad. After all it is a photography book. I don’t know how much experience you and the readers here have had with iBooks but when you get a sample of a fiction book you get a hundred or so pages which is up to a third of the book. Not looking for a third of a book but a reasonable sample would be appreciated. Anyone here into iPads for reading, viewing images, editing???
Posted by: Santasimage | Friday, 06 April 2018 at 11:03 AM
The wild geese do not intend to cast their reflection.
The water has no mind to receive their image.
The river has moved on. 404 error - page not found.
Posted by: MikeR | Friday, 06 April 2018 at 11:10 AM
I delayed visiting Berlin to take photos of the wall because... hell, it was there long as I could remember, and Communism and a wall that large certainly weren't going anywhere in my lifetime... Finally made it summer of '89 to review the crumbs.
Posted by: Stan B. | Friday, 06 April 2018 at 11:25 AM
Your Black and White image above is definitely worthy of being included in a print sale! Love it...
Posted by: Chester Williams | Friday, 06 April 2018 at 02:31 PM
Years ago when I was first getting into photography, I was riding in a car, and as the car was making a right turn, I looked out of the window toward the house we were passing. In the yard was a boy next to a short, spiky palm plant. He was sticking a holly berry on the end of each palm leaf and had nearly finished his task. I had no camera with me and probably would not have been confident enough to stop and make the photograph if I had, but I should have both had the camera and made the shoot. It was a simple moment that is not ever going to occur again, not that boy with that expression next to that plant. This photograph-never-made haunts me still.
Posted by: Adam Carlberg | Friday, 06 April 2018 at 02:43 PM
I think one of the hardest lessons I have learned in my personal photography is to stop worrying about what I am missing, relax and enjoy what I am getting, or more accurately what I am being given.
The situation around you is changing all the time. Light changes, clouds move around, Bigfoot finishes peeing on a tree and walks back into the woods. Sometimes you get it, sometimes not. It happens.
It's all a gift and this is supposed to be fun.
Posted by: mike plews | Friday, 06 April 2018 at 04:24 PM
"And look how different those two photographs are."
I am reminded of Frank Gohlke's Landscapes from the Middle of the World in which he includes several "Aftermaths" -- photographs taken in his home town of Wichita Falls, Texas where a Tornado whipped through in 1979.
He includes scenes documenting the destruction, then a year or so later showing how the town recovered and rebuilt. Fascinating! See for example:
Gohlke - Tornado
-Richard
Posted by: Richard Jones | Friday, 06 April 2018 at 04:30 PM
This post about photography, time, and impermanence made me think of the wonderful essay "The Same River Twice" by David Quammen: http://www.davidquammen.com/sampler/21-samerivertwice.
Posted by: Ed Bacher | Friday, 06 April 2018 at 05:41 PM
An apple might decompose in a matter of days or weeks, but an Apple will live on forever in the landfill.
Posted by: toto | Friday, 06 April 2018 at 07:04 PM
Speaking of impermanence (a bit of a downer as a subject in a way), I am reading "But What If We're Wrong?: Thinking About the Present As If It Were the Past". In it, he proposes a brief quiz - Name someone alive and famous in the 21st century, the 20th century, the 19th, etc, until you can't go back any further. The point is how few names come down to us over the long haul, that most of those things that seem so important to us now will just fade away.
Posted by: Patrick | Friday, 06 April 2018 at 08:08 PM
I have several Alan Watts lectures on my iPod that I love to listen to while walking. The content and meaning may escape me at times but honestly, the man could be talking pure gibberish and I'd still listen because of his marvelous voice.
Posted by: Gary | Friday, 06 April 2018 at 10:43 PM
In Japanese culture Wabi Sabi describes something similar.
Posted by: David Cope | Saturday, 07 April 2018 at 03:48 AM
Now you can print one of each and put them in a frame for a dyptich. Will make a nice contrast to view as the years go by. Too often we seem to miss the changes in places close to us over the years.
Maybe you can do the same view in all seasons and enjoy it for decades to come?
Posted by: Daniel | Saturday, 07 April 2018 at 08:24 AM
If you google him you will find an image of Thomas Merton kneeling on railroad tracks with what looks like a 35mm camera ... that harks back to quite a few links here ...
Posted by: David Place | Sunday, 08 April 2018 at 04:49 PM