the death of inspiration

Only a few short weeks ago, I began this exciting journey into photography with little more than a camera and a dream. A shiny, thrilling, hopeful dream. It seemed that something finally clicked into place for me, something that had been patiently waiting in the wings for me to finally see it. I came back down from the mountains starry eyed and thrumming with inspiration and the quiet yet manic whispers of possibility. Nothing could stop me now!

Then I sat down and opened Instagram, hurriedly following and researching established photographers, chefs, and models. Here is where the already savvy audience groans in recognition.

You see, reader, what I did here is load the first bullet of many in the chamber that would shoot down my inspiration, bit by bit. How did they get that photo to upload so crisply? How were they able to achieve such amazing lighting? How does one achieve such perfect composition in such a seemingly effortless way? My eyes darted back and forth from my first uploaded photos to these numerous professional accounts and their posts. My photos were grainy. Imperfect. Messy. Not like theirs.

Now I know this was a foolish way of thinking. I only just started! One photo set, posted by an amature, self taught photographer who only just figured out her dream within the last 72 hours! How could I possibly get it perfect with my first try? Or even my second or third try?! Well, you see, in this world of instant gratification and aggressive perfection thrust in our faces daily, it has become nearly impossible to see this perspective clearly. If I am to ever even HOPE to go pro with photography, I need to be good RIGHT NOW! I need to be the best RIGHT NOW! Who would even give me the time of day, buried under these millions of stunningly talented artists?

I've been doing some thinking about this very question. Some musing, if you will. A quote by Theodore Roosevelt comes to mind, time and time again; "Comparison is the thief of joy." Ah! It is, isn't it? I would go one step further and say that comparison is the death of inspiration! I will say it again, in bold italics; comparison is the death of inspiration. We all, no matter what we do, need to remember this as we venture out into the world with our hopes, dreams, and aspirations bundled tightly on our backs. Be aware of the others around you, allow them to motivate you, but for the love of God do NOT compare yourself to them or your work to theirs; because this may be at the expense of your thirst for life, art, success, even your very essence as an individual.

As I go out and dive in to my photoshoots with my hand-me-down camera with the battery that dies too quickly, I must realize that all of these imperfections, all of the nervous energy that radiates from me as I strive to get "THE shot" of the day makes my work unique to me. The fact that I may need to step back and take some time to adjust the ISO or aperture on my camera because I forgot to check them before taking twenty odd shots is merely a building block. A learning moment. A memory I will look back on with a smile as I'm much further down the trembling and winding path of my career. The ideal shot, the expensive equipment, the illusion of "perfection" will come with time and persistence. These things will most certainly not come with comparing myself to those who have been in these trenches for years, perhaps even decades, before me. To those people, whoever they may be, I will look to them as the giants whose shoulders I must clamber atop of, NOT the giants I cower from and fear. At one point, they were just like me. Starting from scratch. They came down from their very own mountain with their very own dreams and inspiration. They have their own giants they once feared, and most likely still do.

So, reader, what I hope you take from my ramblings here on this fine fall evening, is that you may see yourself as a fellow dreamer in progress. I hope that you may stop effectively killing your inspiration with comparison, and see yourself and your work (whatever that may be), as valid. I hope you can take the climb with me, up atop the shoulders of our giants. It takes time. It takes patience. It takes work. Then maybe, perhaps with enough will power, we can become the giants.

Doesn't that sound just wonderful?