Iceland Air

So Iceland air cancelled my flights earlier this summer, with no explanation and offered me a ‘credit voucher’, and in very small text ‘ask for a refund’. I went through the ‘ask for a refund bit’, but found the website took me in a loop which took me back to the voucher acceptance stage. So I tried to contact them via their online chat thing - it doesn’t work. A month later it still doesn't work. So then I tried phone - waited over 40 minutes and gave up. Then I found a contact form, which I asked them for my money back. This was a month ago. I received nothing.

So today I finally get through to their staff on the phone and they tell me I accepted the credit voucher, which apparently has an expiry date, and once accepted, a refund is no longer possible (why not?). But I disputed that I had accepted the voucher. I never went anywhere near accepting it. And they’re not refunding me.

Last year on the way home form Iceland at the start of the pandemic (this was around March), instead of taking me back to Glasgow they dropped me off in Heathrow London. This was apparently for my own safety. My connecting flight home to Glasgow was via London city which is at the opposite side of London from where they dumped me. And I was supposed to pay for this myself and claim it back.

I will never use Iceland air again.

Retrospective

I’m acutely aware that if one has an audience, that audience are always one step behind you. One of the best ways to illustrate that point is with my photographic books. Books are always based on the past. They can never be an illustration of where you are right now.

In my own case, the last three books I’ve published have been planned for about five years. We knew we were going to do Altiplano, Hálendi and then Sound of Snow. In that order.

This had always been the plan except the last two books came out rather quickly because I had the free time this past year to focus on the design of them. Had it not been for the pandemic, both Hálendi and The Sound of Snow would probably still be vapourware, and so when they would have finally become physical objects, the images within them would be even older than they are now.

This is just a ‘placeholder’ image. This is not the design or intended cover of any retrospective book I end up making.

This is just a ‘placeholder’ image. This is not the design or intended cover of any retrospective book I end up making.

So in this way, photographic books are always historical. They are a statement of past events.

I am now up to date: the cupboard is now empty of ‘completed projects’.

Which brings me on to thinking about a retrospective. A book that will cover the last decade or so since I ‘went professional’ for want of a better term.

I don’t just want to do a book that has a collection of images only. I’m more interested in telling a story.

So I think the book will try to convey the development and progress of my imagery over the past 10 years.

I’m very aware that certain landscapes have been teachers. And that in order to photograph one kind of landscape, I had to do my homework elsewhere first. I could not have known how to approach the black deserts of Iceland if I had not photographed the Altiplano of Bolivia first. Similarly, I could not have known how to develop my photographs in winter landscapes had it not been for working on luminosity / tonality in the black deserts of Iceland. My Japan imagery was built on top of my experiences of working in the vast black deserts of Iceland. And so on…..

So this is where I think I would like to take such a book. A chronology of epiphanies perhaps. As I often think that if one is developing, there are often times when we hit a new level of awareness, where things come together and begin to make sense.

Thinking this way, and realising that the whole thing is a path of progression, I can’t help but come to the realisation that every point that has come before, has been taking me to where I am right now.

Dream logic

David Lynch understands the intuitive aspect of creativity. He also understands the unconscious aspects of his audience, and how they respond when watching movies.

I think good artists intuitively know how to create work that has room for interpretation.

In a nutshell

All you need to know about creativity:

Trekking in Iceland

I’m in Iceland right now. I just completed walking the Lauavegur trail for the third time. It's been really good to come back to Iceland for my own mental health, and to take some weight off the constant Media pressure about the pandemic. Life, I was starting to forget, continues it seems.

So here is a picture of my tent on the second night of the trek. And before you ask, no I didn't put the stones around it it. They were already there 👍😊

A chat with Alister Benn

Thought you might like to watch my chat with Alister Benn. This is part one, and there will be more published.

Ego has no place in Creativity

As the Buddhist saying goes, to reach enlightenment, we have to lose the ‘i’, ‘myself’, ‘me’.

To create great art, I think we have to become a conduit for the art, rather than think of ourselves as the source.

This is the relationship I have with the work I create.

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You can think of ego as a badly behaved monkey. It just wants instant gratification. It wants the adulation without the effort, and it also will get pretty upset if others do not like the work. The monkey’s opinion of itself and esteem are far more important than the work. It is like the tail wagging the dog, or putting the cart before the horse.

I have said many times that objectivity allows us to be appropriately critical of our work. To be objective, we have to be able to ‘stand outside ourselves’, and view the work as a 3rd-person might. This skill is present not just in the creation of art, but in most people’s jobs who do their jobs well. The art of being able to self-assess and figure out what is lacking and what needs to be worked on is part of self-development. And this is hard because in psychology studies, it has been found that most people tend to overestimate their abilities.

By removing the ego, we allow ourselves to let go. Letting go is the only way that creativity may flow. To remove judgement before the work is complete is in my view, essential. You can hone and shape the work, and of course there is a degree of control involved in this aspect, but by controlling the work too much, the flow of creativity will slow and halt. Too many rules, too many constrictions will lead to something that is contrived.

So we have to let go. We have to experiment. And by letting go, we allow the work to go anywhere. We also allow for the work to fail as well as succeed. Because by definition, experimentation means that we do not know what the outcome will be.

Ego is also highly coupled to the ideas of ‘success’ and ‘failure’. I rarely meet anyone who is not overly judgemental of their own work, and either spends time comparing what they did to their best work (self-comparison, and self-judgement), or to others. Rather than just saying ‘the work is what it is’, and understanding that we have an ebb and a flow to our creativity, and our work will vary, and that ‘this is completely normal and ok’, we exert judgement over what we do.

One question I am often asked is ‘how many successful images do you get on a roll of film?’ I used to try to turn the question around in the hope that the issuer of the question is forced to think about what motivated them to ask it in the first place. Because understanding one’s own motivation behind the questions we ask, can teach us a lot about how we view the subject we are discussing.

The language we use, and our choice of words can tell us so much about our selves and our relationships to the external world.

Sure I understand that for many, they just want to understand if my abilities and level of craft are above average, but this still ends up being a judgement, and expectation that some work is better than others and also, that the aim may be to reduce the ‘duds’ in the rolls of film down to just ‘successes’.

The answer I give is: ‘everything I do is a stepping stone to the next thing’. I cannot leap from one ‘successful’ image to another, and so, cutting out those in-between images would be pointless: they have to be made. They are just as important as the images we do want to keep.

With this understood, I believe that nothing is a failure. Everything teaches. You get to where you are from all the experiences you have: bad ones as well as good ones, and so the same is true in photography.

And it is for this reason, that we should try to eradicate the concepts of ‘success’ and ‘failure’ from our own internal language. We have to remove the monkey. We have to let go of our ego.

By doing so, we become free to see where creativity will take us.

More Standard Editions available

Just to let you know that we ordered a few more standard editions of my new Hokkaido book, which ships this September.

The standard edition comes as a light blue cloth hardback edition.

I’ve received some advanced copies now to check over and I’m delighted with the quality of the reproductions and the overall production.

It is similar in production values to last year’s Hálendi book :-)

I also have a few of the deluxe editions left - around 10 copies. This is the same book, but this time, we’ve printed it with a snow white cloth jacket, comes with a white cloth slipcase, and also includes one of three prints that you can choose from (see below).

The book is shipping this September.

Quiet

I’m sorry if the output on this has been sporadic. It’s just the way it is.

I often think that anyone who does not write a blog, or does not produce content, is blissfully ignorant to the pressures that anyone who does, has.

The blog is not dead. It’s not that I’m not interested. It’s just that there’s not much going on at the moment.

I can’t get out with my camera much, and the summer is here, so I am busy doing other things that are non-photo related: cycling, reading books, enjoying the summer sunlight, and writing music.

Just now is not a time for photography for me (sorry).

But rest assured, my blog is not dead…. yet. And I do intend to return. But only when I have something I feel is of value to say.

Confidence and listening to oneself

I finished my Portfolio online class a week or so ago. I really enjoyed running this one, and I found that recording myself as I went along carving out a portfolio of raw material was a good decision.

portfolio-development-class.jpg

I wanted to show the viewer that the creative process is an intuitive one, where any decision will take you on an unknown path with an unknown outcome, and specifically - this is ok. This is what creativity is about.

Over the years I have run workshops, I have found that many creatives feel lost when they are lost, and that if they are lost, believe that it is a sign of failure. But I think this is false. We have to get lost, to end up somewhere we haven’t been before, and to be doing things outside our normal parameters. Doing the same old thing all the time does not encourage growth, but being lost somewhere new invites us to experience new things and to incorporate them in our work.

Portfolio Development video class 2021 (Bolivia)
£175.00
One time

But the thorny subject of confidence has come up many times over the years, and this portfolio development class was no exception. I felt that many of the questions that were asked, said a lot about the authors view on success and failure. Many of the questions were their own answers, yet the authors of them did not realise that they were answering their own questions. They did not realise that they had an opinion, and they weren’t listening to what their own gut was telling them.

One of the examples of this, that I see on my workshops is the question that usually goes something like this:

“do you think x would be good to do?”

This is really someone asking themselves ‘I think this might be worth trying’. But rather than going with their hunch, the author of the question looks for confirmation elsewhere. That is where I think my role comes in. I have never really liked the badge of ‘teacher’, instead, I have often thought of myself as someone who is there to ‘guide’ or assume a helpful role as ‘sounding board’, and to enable the student’s own thought processes.

Listening to oneself isn’t easy, and I do not write these words with criticism towards my students. I realise that having to learn to trust oneself, and to realise that when we ask questions such as ‘would this be worth trying out?’ that this is really intuition telling us where to go next.

We live in such a structured world. Everything is results based, and because of it, everyone thinks this way. ‘success’ or ‘failure’ is how most of what we do creatively speaking is judged, when in fact, I think these are only distractions. There is no success or failure, just a ‘performance’. It is why I personally abhor photographic competitions. Art is not competitive, and you should not be fighting with yourself or comparing yourself to others.

Assuming that one may make the wrong decision when creating art is very destructive to the role that creativity offers. There are no right or wrong decisions, just the aforementioned ‘performance’. Any performer will tell you that one performance is different from another, and that the quality of what they do fluctuates. When you realise this, you become free of the shackles of ‘bad’ or ‘good’, and instead find yourself thinking more along the lines of ‘that was different’.

To be creative, means to experiment. Experimentation by definition means we do not know what the outcome will be. We are trying things out, seeing how they fit, and altering things to make them the way we like, as we go along.

When we do something that does not reach what we had aimed for, there may be a new avenue rather than a dead-end to go down. Being open to happy-mistakes is important in recognising that there is a flow to creativity that cannot be pre-determined. We just have to let go, and see where it takes us.

It is this ‘letting go’ which eludes a lot of us. We feel we have to know the outcome, before the outcome has been realised. We feel we have to know what we’re doing, when in fact, not knowing, and being lost is almost an essential ingredient in being creative.

And so I think it all comes down to confidence. In accepting that whatever we do create, does not need to be judged.

Nothing is a failure, everything is a stepping stone.

Confidence is about trusting oneself, even if oneself does not know what the outcome may be.

I wish I knew how to teach people this. It’s just so hard. With most students, I often feel I am fighting a life-time of learned restrictions and self imposed rules. You don’t break old habits like this overnight. But I am convinced that most of us are into this creative endeavour because of how freeing it is, and how different it is from the normal structures and limits placed upon us.