The title might sound dramatic, but it feels rooted in truth. For the past two years, I’ve been largely uninspired, and when inspiration has struck, the results often fell flat. I kept asking myself: can you really get worse at photography? Did I ever truly know how to compose an image, or was I just fooling myself? How have I seemingly discarded the (albeit small amount) of talent I have for making nice images like it was some old memory card that no longer worked? After a lot of thinking, and countless re-edits of old photos to the point I became blind to what the photo was even saying anymore, I realised the answer was multi-faceted.
DID I ACTUALLY BECOME A WORSE PHOTOGRAPHER?
No. When I look back at my first images from five years ago, I cringe at th poor compositions, weak subjects, and clumsy editing. And yet, I remember how much joy they brought me. I’d rush to show people, proud of what I’d created. The irony is that while my technical ability has improved, my expectations have skyrocketed. Now, I keep only half of the images from a shoot than I would have done previously - this creates a warped perception that you are actually getting worse. It’s not that I’ve regressed, but that I’ve stagnated, stuck between Point A and Point B while my expectations have moved on to Point C. That gap has bred frustration and self-doubt. That led me to my next question.
WHY HAVE I STAGNATED?
This one is a hard one to admit, but I simply stopped shooting for enjoyment. I would imagine there are a fair few photographers out there who have gone through similar times, particularly in this time of social media which is all-consuming. My photography became a self-test, a way of measuring my skill, instead of a way of experiencing the world. There is a fine line between inspiration and replication and, while I take inspiration from many photographers I follow and look up to, my photography became a way to replicate what they do or improve to their level.
This is not the way to photograph. Street photography thrives on the organic, but I was chasing replication instead of authenticity. I became upset and disenfranchised that I just wasn’t as good a photographer as many of my peers and instead of accepting it and leaning into what is within my skillset and enjoying everything that photography brings me, I started utilising photography as a tool to improve a skill, rather than an experience to make an image.
This is backwards and has hampered my vision and plagued me with self-doubt. Because I stopped taking images that were authentic to my own vision and voice, I totally lost sight of what that vision and voice was. Which brings me to...
This is not the way to photograph. Street photography thrives on the organic, but I was chasing replication instead of authenticity. I became upset and disenfranchised that I just wasn’t as good a photographer as many of my peers and instead of accepting it and leaning into what is within my skillset and enjoying everything that photography brings me, I started utilising photography as a tool to improve a skill, rather than an experience to make an image.
This is backwards and has hampered my vision and plagued me with self-doubt. Because I stopped taking images that were authentic to my own vision and voice, I totally lost sight of what that vision and voice was. Which brings me to...
WHAT IS MY PHOTOGRAPHY VOICE?
Because I became consumed with reaching the levels of some of my favourites, it felt the easiest way to get there was to take inspiration from their style. But I follow a lot of photographers and they all have their own way of doing things, which led to a melting pot of conflicting styles I wanted to replicate. There were a handful of photographers who I was wanting to create images like, but many of those photographers were creating completely different styles. This led to complete blindness to what I wanted to create and what I wanted to say. I have totally lost my own photography identity through merging inspiration with replication. So what is my style? Right now, I am not totally sure. I have work to do to find my way back to what it is.
SO, WHAT NEXT?
The old adage ‘Comparison is the thief of joy’ has become a reality for me and so suffocating my enjoyment of something I truly love. So my first step is to bin the constant comparison.
So what if I can’t make images like my favourites? They are my favourites precisely because they’re exceptional. And it’s okay for me not to be exceptional. It’s enough to be good - and more than enough to simply enjoy the process. Not many people are at the top of their field, and while it’s good to hope to get there, it’s also fine to not and, moreover, it can’t be at the detriment of the enjoyment it is supposed to bring. The next step was to book myself a photography trip somewhere to just get lost in a new city and fall back in love with the process of making images without expectation.
IN CONCLUSION
Photography, for me, has to return to being an act of joy and exploration, not of comparison. Inspiration should guide, not suffocate or consume. Replication is empty; authenticity is the only way forward. If I can accept that I may never be exceptional, I free myself to create work that is true to me - and that is where real growth begins.