Not every day has to be ‘the day,’ ...
There are those days when the drive to capture something extraordinary just isn’t there. Today was one of those days. I hadn’t planned to go out and shoot – I had an errand downtown, so I thought, Why not? Let’s see if something catches my eye. Camera in hand, an extra lens in my bag, I set off, ready to dive into the city.
When the Zone Doesn’t Happen: Learning to Walk Away and Just Be
Not every day has to be ‘the day,’ and that’s okay.
There are those days when the drive to capture something extraordinary just isn’t there. Today was one of those days. I hadn’t planned to go out and shoot – I had an errand downtown, so I thought, *Why not? Let’s see if something catches my eye.* Camera in hand, an extra lens in my bag, I set off, ready to dive into the city. But as I walked around, looking for that spark, that invisible thread to pull me into the moment… nothing happened. And while I know I do this because I *choose* to, because it brings me joy, I can’t deny that little voice in the back of my mind: *Will today be the day?* Will I capture the image that changes everything? Will I meet the person who changes the trajectory of my work?
Part 1: The Pressure We Put on Ourselves
It’s strange, really. There’s no deadline, no client breathing down my neck, yet there’s a quiet pressure I sometimes feel when I go out to shoot. It’s the weight of potential – the possibility that the next shot could be *the* shot. The one that captures the magic I’m constantly searching for. But what if today isn’t that day? And even more, what if there’s no such thing as “the shot” at all? It’s a mental game I play, balancing the joy of just wandering with the expectation of discovery. Today, though, nothing felt quite right. The scenes felt flat, the light felt off, and I knew deep down that I wasn’t in the zone.
Part 2: Knowing When to Step Back
As I walked, I realized there’s no shame in stepping back. There are days when inspiration doesn’t strike, and forcing it only drains the joy out of it. When I let go of the pressure to create, I remember why I’m here in the first place: to explore, to see, to just *be.* I reminded myself that photography isn’t my only creative outlet. If the camera doesn’t spark some days, maybe a sketch will. Or perhaps I’ll dive into my zine work, play around with design, or get lost in a good book. Having multiple outlets helps me shift gears and keeps the creativity flowing without the pressure of a perfect result.
Part 3: The Value of Multiple Outlets
I think any creative person must have more than one outlet. Photography is my primary language, yes, but there’s something liberating about letting go of the camera and pouring that energy into something else. It’s a reminder that creativity doesn’t always need to be channeled into one thing. Walking away from a slow photography day doesn’t mean I’m walking away from creativity – it just means redirecting it. And who knows? Stepping back often brings clarity, which might lead me to something even more meaningful the next time I pick up my camera.
So here’s my final thought: some days, the inspiration won’t come, and that’s okay. Walking away doesn’t mean giving up; it means creating room for something new.
Peace
John
Daily Blog
Daily Blog/No1/John Hendrick/Photography/Nov12024
Not working always Shooting!
Recently (today), someone told me they don't like shooting on vacation because it feels like work; I was like, “I get it. " Then I sat there and thought about it, and frankly, I get it, but at the same time, it made me think.
Let me explain: for me, photography is always about wanting to make images. I take my camera everywhere, and yes, I know everyone says that, but I do. Before I go any further, this is not a jab at the comment; it just made me think. What’s my relationship with photography? Is it work?
Also, something of note: I am retired from the military, so I have a pension. I don't rely on photography for income, so it is never considered work, which I don't and won't take for granted. This might be why I kept thinking about what my relationship with photography is all about.
I was sitting there thinking about photography and “work “ while holding my camera at my daughter's swim meet. As I rushed up to capture a moment with the team, I realized that, at the current moment, photography is not working or at least doesn’t have an association with the word work (yet.) It's just what I do and a part of who I am (at least currently); if I am lucky enough to make some money along the way, that would be great, but then I have to think about, is getting paid for doing this suddenly make it “work?”
As I have said, follow your dreams, always create for yourself, and do it because you love it. Shout out to all the photographers doing this for income, whether full-time or the hustle you all are the real ones.
Peace everyone