My thoughts on the craft, the process and the subjects
Currently, I am contemplating a painting (not a digital one, but actual oils on canvas) in the style of The Group of Seven
I only briefly looked through the dance images, and believe that some of them are quite interesting. I am really looking forward to trying some new post-processing techniques on them, so the painting would have to wait for now.
Sometimes, it seems that the value of art is purely in its entertainment aspect. I believe that this is misleading, as art has a tremendous potential to educate us about universal principles that govern various fields, particularly about human nature, which plays a role in everything we do.
These days, we have to carefully manage consumption of information, which is conveniently and constantly available to us in various forms. Since our inbound bandwidth is limited, it may seem productive to limit the consumed information to that with immediately practical value, e.g. technical and non-fiction literature, documentary movies, reportage and scientific photos, etc. However, doing so would lead to missing the potential to expand our knowledge base beyond what is necessary to function on the daily basis within our current social and professional roles. In other words, focussing only on what is immediately and obviously useful does not provide an opportunity of significant, i.e. non-incremental, learning.
In shodo (Japanese calligraphy), one of the most difficult aspects is the balance between the individual characters (kanji) and the overall image, which often contains many kanji. In the image above, the orange marks, made by my teacher, point out the individual kanji and, in the case of “water” in the lower left, the elements of the kanji.
This balance between the details and the whole is one of the parallels between shodo and kendo. It also translates to practically any other activity, such as teaching, studying and photography.
Stock photography is not often recommended by professional photographers as a single niche to focus on. One of the reasons is that stock images are aimed at a ver broad audience and therefore do not offer much opportunity for creative self-expression. In my experience, I find this to be true. In fact, I am often surprised that my most popular/successful stock photos are not the ones that I personally like. This make
I think the same principle applies to photography. Since most of the photos are distributed online, we can count on the vastness of the Internet that somewhere out there there are people “like us” in the sense that our favourite images would resonate with them as well. These people are similar to us to begin with (perhaps, in their tastes, background, interests, etc.), so they don’t need to be convinced about the value of photographs that are meaningful to us, as authors. Perhaps it is not surprising then that many Internet followings start with small groups of family and real-life friends and later expand to social media friends and so on.
Of course, it is impossible to consistently shoot only photos with great personal significance and emotional content. For the rest (I always think about photos of the Eiffel Tower or other famous landmarks taken from touristy viewpoints), stock photography market is a perfect outlet. After all, vanilla is the most popular flavour of ice cream (it is my personal favourite too, by the way).
My three-year-old daughter loves books. Some of her favourites are “Lost and Found
Couple of days ago, I came across Jeffers’ “Once Upon an Alphabet
Not being so presumptuous as to aim for “a giant leap for mankind” with my photographs, as an experiment, I will try to (a) look for subjects/themes that a child could relate to and (b) work more with negative space in my composition.
“The world is full of obvious things”
– Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, “The Hound of the Baskervilles
I noticed a while ago, that many of my colleague in academia (most of them engineers or scientists) have strong personal interests in creative activities like art, photography, writing, etc. I have been wondering what aspects are common between the creative process and knowledge work, such as academic research. This question comes up every now and then in the discussions of whether artistic training is meaningful for people of other professions (I think there is an implicit assumption that is different parts of the rain are responsible for intuitive and logical thought processes, the two ways of thinking are not generally applicable to the same problems).
Of course, observation alone is not sufficient. The process of creating an object of art also involves communicating the information crystallized through observation to the audience. The skills of observation, processing of information (identifying key elements) and communicating it to others easily translate to academic work, or most other activities, for that matter. So I would like to think that my taking photos or practicing kendo indirectly benefits my research. This seems to work for many prominent colleagues, so I am sticking with it.
Semi-formal style of Japanese calligraphy, gyo-sho, is my favourite among the three scripts we practice. The other two styles are kai-sho (formal) and so-sho (informal). I tired to think why I prefer gyo-sho, and I think it is because of the balance between being constrained by the rules (the characters have to be readable) and the freedom to improvise the details. It conveys both proficiency and creative ability.
Quite appropriately, the theme of this month’s calligraphy is welcoming of Spring. I think that striving for balance between structure and spontaneity, between following the rules and breaking them, is the positive change that is needed in all aspects of life, which is too often over-structured because of external demands and self-imposed expectations.
Travel photography is a tremendously popular niche. In fact, taking stock photos while travelling initially attracted me to professional photography. As my focus shifted from “places” to “people” over the past ten years, I find it increasingly interesting to review my own and other photographers’ photos of various destinations.
Interestingly, this effect is present even if I am reviewing only my own photos. As Daniel Gilbert, the author of “Stumbling on Happiness
After a nearly nine-month break, my wife and I are back to practicing shodo (Japanese calligraphy). I wanted to post my writing attempts on Flickr, and found, to my surprise, that when I started doing the same thing three year ago, my first post was of exactly the same writing (the image below is from three years ago.) It reads “しゅんらいききむかう.” As with many of the sayings typically used in calligraphy, the exact translation is a bit elusive (and somewhat missing the point), but “Welcome spring” is close enough. This is kaisho – formal script.
When I wrote this three years ago, it was also a re-start of our photo practice. Our daughter was just a newborn, and we would bring her to our teacher’s house. She would sleep peacefully (at least, this is how I remember it now) in her car seat, while my wife and I would write and then eat incredibly delicious dinners cooked by our sensei’s wife. Having a child with us was a major change in dynamics of our practice from the time when there were just two of us. I guess, this is just another illustration that shodo, like kendo, is a mirror of of the entire life.
Our daughter is not a little bundle laying in a car seat beside the chair anymore. She is a person, who wants to draw, and write, and play, and watch TV, and read, and eat, and drink, and talk. The change of dynamics and pace seems to be continuous. Perhaps, embracing it is the point of practice.
These days, our daughter likes to do everything together with us. I know that this will pass, as the need to assert her independence will take over, but I wonder if one day we would have a chance to write calligraphy side-by-side.
“We should devote ourselves to being self-sufficient and must not depend upon the external ratings by others for our happiness.”
-Bruce Lee
I came across an interesting article by Paul Graham, called “How to do what you love.” It is curious how similar are his thoughts regarding prestige, particularly in academic circles, to the words of Bruce Lee above. Graham goes bit more into details of why it is dangerous to let prestige be the guide in the choice of what we do. It is because the aura of prestige substitutes our own values with those “of the rest of the world.” Incidentally, he expands even further on this in “Hackers & Painters
For artists, photographers included, opinion of other people is a major factor that can influence the entire career. The challenge is not to let it dictate the direction of the art itself.
There is an effective way of approaching the confidence/arrogance dilemma in kendo. I have heard a saying that in practice (keiko), one should cultivate a feeling as if he/she is the worst (least capable) student in the group, while during shiai (read: real fight) one should feel as if he is the best. This way, we can be humble, yet not swayed by external factors during pivotal moments and decisions.
