upon entering the zone
click 'er for bigger
The photographic zone, that is. I'm certain many have similar experiences. While working on a photographic project one becomes so intent on the work, that the rest of the world seems to fall away. It happened again for me several days ago while doing some architectural photography. It was not easy set ups, as nearly all of them were interiors with windows included. Always a difficult decision: expose for the interior and not worry about what happens with the exterior, or try to find some way to capture both? What color balance to use? How much interior/practical lighting to use?
I proceeded around the house for about four hours, then did three set ups outside. The light was perfectly clear, the sky nearly cloudless. Not exactly the light I consider "perfect" for photographing architectural subjects, but certainly what we humans consider beautiful weather for every day enjoyment of life. The photo above is one of the last I took for the day prior to departure from the location. It's only real significance is that it's part of an incredibly lovely afternoon landscape.
The drive home was on roads that I've travelled hundreds of times previously, but somehow, through the intensity of my concenration during the prior four or five hours, took on the appearance of places that I had never seen before. My ordinary life was momentarily lost to me, banished by an activity so satisfactory that it borders on pleasure.
No doubt this is the ideal state for humans. The challenge is to find what the activity is that gets you into "the zone" the most efficiently and doesn't interfere with the rights of others. Anybody else care to add what works for you?
Reader Comments (4)
I can't believe at times the things I miss right around my area until my wife drives and I get to look around, it is a whole new world.
In a way not too surprising, Don. When driving you're supposed to be watching the road, not the surroundings. But in this instance of which I write above, it was completely a mental thing. I'd been transported to another level of awareness by the intensity of the work that I'd performed, and so was in some kind of alternative reality. The ordinary and familiar were transformed into the unknown. Of course by the time I arrived home, within about ten minutes, the effect was gone.
I have experienced that state you describe but I don't know how to get into it. I spend most of my days in front of computers and I certainly enter the same kind of state there but it doesn't translate into a state that's useful for looking at the world.
But it is sometimes just overwhelming--every thing I look at and every step I take shows something new and wonderful that would make a great photograph.
Here's the damning thing for me, though: as soon as I start to take pictures when I'm in that zone--poof!--it's gone. I clearly need to find a way to take photos without letting the all-too-dominant analytical part of my mind to take control.
Tommy,
You've described an interesting twist on the state. What I had attempted to define was what has become know as flow. As can be seen in the Wikipedia definition, I think the important component is "...the merging of action and awareness." with a consequent loss of self consciousness.
Perhaps you simply need to take the pictures, lots of them, and not worry about how they "turn out." At least not while in the state of pure possibility. Viewing them later will be soon enough to determine whether the session yielded anything of "value."