These are the key points from Donald Weber’s workshop last weekend that I’ve been trying to put into practice this week, in no particular order:
- You have to take risks.
- Just shoot it. You never know.
- Know what you want to say. This one is hard. It took him four years to figure it out for himself.
- Shoot when you don’t feel like shooting.
- There’s always something going wrong. It’s all about how you deal with it.
- You need a body of work. Get that first before you chase assignments. They will come from the body of work.
- Connect with people. Have empathy. Eat and drink and laugh with them. Be willing to put yourself out there.
- Editing (that is, selecting and sequencing, not post-processing) is key. It’s not just about choosing the best pictures. It’s about stories and concepts, both literal and figurative.
I’ve been going to the drop-in centre every morning. On Monday, I tried to go all day, but I ran out of steam and dropped into an exhausted and stressed-out heap as soon as I got home. I didn’t feel like going back. I worried that people thought I was intruding, exploiting. I worried that I actually was. I felt uncomfortable, and yet compelled to continue.
I went back Tuesday morning, even though I didn’t feel like it. But this time I knew I had to pace myself. So I only planned to go for the morning, and I had to meet someone else at noon anyways. I was exhausted again when I got home around 2. I had scheduled a photoshoot with a belly dancer for the evening, and I was dreading it. I didn’t know how I’d get my energy up for it. And what was the point anyways?
But I remembered Don’s words, about shooting when you don’t feel like it, so I did it. And I got my energy back and we had a lot of fun. Here are a few of my favourites:
This morning, I went to John’s house, who very kindly agreed to let me photograph him there. It was kind of intense. I left feeling a bit weird. Emotional or something. Feeling bad again, that I’d invaded his privacy even though he invited me in. I felt like my photographing him and his home made him sad. He talked about having distanced himself from everyone in the 24 years since his MS diagnosis.
Afterwards, I almost didn’t go to the drop-in centre. I was feeling raw, and like I’d probably just annoyed people anyways. But I also felt like if I didn’t go back today, I might never. And I really didn’t want that to happen.
I saw Tony there shortly after I arrived, who I photographed a few weeks ago and whose prints I’d been carrying around almost ever since. He was delighted with the pictures. “You’re a good photographer,” he said. “Has anyone every told you that?” He was even more delighted when he realized the prints were for him to keep. “Thank you SO much for taking my picture,” he said, and then he gave me a huge bear hug.
The woman on the right is Jenny. I’d talked to her about my project on Monday, but I hadn’t gotten a chance to ask her if it was ok for me photograph her. Today (before I took this shot), I asked her. “Oh!” she said. “That’s so nice you asked. Some people don’t.”
She said it reminded her of something she learned in rehab. There, they had to make sure to ask people permission before they touched anyone, even just a light touch. Because some people don’t like being touched. I really like that analogy, of photographing being like touching. Certainly, it feels like that to me.
Throughout all this, I noticed a guy I hadn’t seen there before. I would love to make a picture of him, but I refrained, not sure of whether he’d be ok with it. So instead I just smiled, and he smiled back. After a while, I realized in fact I’d photographed him a few years ago, outside the youth drop-in centre (he’s in the first picture in the post I linked to). He came up to me and introduced himself. His name is Door, like front door. We talked about the photo I’d made, and I offered to give him a print and we talked about how I could get it to him. Our conversation seemed to be coming to a close, when he said, “I just have to tell you, I get a really good feeling from you. I just have this good feeling about what you’re doing, that you’re doing a good thing. So keep doing it.”
I went home and cried, but it was kind of a good cry.
I still don’t know if I’ll be able to make the kind of photos I want to make on this project, but I feel a lot better about trying.