May 2009: Permission to succeed

Dear Friends,

April certainly flew by! Maine has had temperatures ranging from freezing to the 80’s, leaves are unfurling and early plants are blooming. I’ve made some early morning forays out into the fog to photograph as well as evening excursions in the softening twilight with the 8 x 10 and pinhole cameras. Working locally continues to be a challenge but I feel as if I am seeing more in the way of photographic possibilities and spending less energy censoring ideas that I think others have already done before. Giving myself permission to try new ideas, retry old ones and sometimes, just to simply look around me.

Imagine if every time we picked up our cameras we gave ourselves permission to succeed as a photographer? What if we woke every morning and gave ourselves this same permission to succeed as a human being? Such a straightforward thought, such an obviously good idea and yet how many of us do that? If we are going to maintain a creative life it is something we have to do from within because. I think we first have to define what success means and this is going to be different for every one of us. This then, is the tricky part – defining how success looks to us as individuals. If my definition of success is inline with who I am, my personality and the way I work, then success is probably achievable. For example, if my personal definition of success is being the highest paid photographer in New York or LA, then I will fail because I am not working or showing images in those markets. However, if I define success as being able to make the photographs that I want to make, in the manner I choose to make them, have a great family and live in Camden, Maine, then I can consider myself successful. Giving us permission to be successful means understanding “who we are” and the nature of our true goals. To know this we have to ask ourselves: “How do I want to live?” “What do I want to do?” and “Where do I want to do it?”

Years ago when I taught at the Maine Photographic Workshops in the Resident Program, I began one term with an exercise. I asked the students to lie on the floor, close their eyes and listen to their breathing.  A simple relaxation exercise, it would seem, but once relaxed I asked them to let their minds drift to the future. I asked them to visualize and imagine writing their obituary. I wanted them to look into the future and describe their life and career as a photographer. I told them to see the list of major shows and retrospectives, to hold the books they produced, to see what images they made that would leave a lasting impression on other photographers, on students, on the public in general. Was their work journalistic, documentary, fine art, or commercial? What did they want their photography to become? How did the first sentence of their obit read? For example, mine could read “Tillman Crane, husband, father, photographer, teacher” or “Tillman Crane, photographer, teacher, husband and father”? The order of the words is important as it reflects the value we place on the things in our life. Our deeds and accomplishments, our success, will be framed in the context of that first sentence. I was really asking them two things, “What are the important people and things in your life?” and “How do they relate to the context of your life?” I didn’t have the words or concepts that I do now (or think I do), but what I was trying to do was give impress upon the students that by consciously defining the their own unique definitions for their lives they could (and would) give themselves permission to succeed. Though each person’s definition of success will vary and the variations are innumerable, it’s these differences from which we ourselves can learn and grow.

I recently spent a weekend “retreat” with a small group of photographers. We gathered simply to share information, talk photography, and hang out with other “like minded” friends. There was no “teacher and students” construct to the weekend. Rather, each of us was a teacher and each was a student. Most of us brought work to share and I saw work that was as different as each individual. The work came out of each individual’s point of view and personal definition of success. Whether it was getting a book published, trying to work out the trouble spots in learning an alternative process, or just letting new eyes see and re-sequence a portfolio, we were all coming from our own definition of success. We shared common problems and solutions. New ideas abounded and by the end of the weekend I found my energies refreshed and restored. With this time I felt we were giving ourselves permission to succeed, by seeking out community, taking risks in making our work more public, through talking about our successes and failures, in simply carving the weekend for ourselves out of our busy lives. It was also a great reminder to me of how differently we each define success and how absolutely great it is that we are all so different.

I have begun to practice imagining the photographs I want to make before I go out to work. Working on a project in my home territory has been a daunting experience. This area feels overly photographed to me, not only because it is beautiful and quiet, but also because for over thirty years the Maine Photographic Workshops has attracted photographers and filmmakers from all over the world. It still does and for me to venture into not only well know territory (my home town) but to try to bring a different visual voice to it feels intimidating. However I am finding that by visualizing the images before I go out to work, I think I am making new and different images. By giving myself permission to succeed, to find new images, I am more relaxed working than I have been in the past. I see that I don’t have to live up to what others have done but simply make my own images of my hometown. It is a long on-going project but maybe in a few years there will be a book about Knox County Maine.

Perhaps you too have a long-term project underway, one you’ve been trying to give voice to for some time. Try sitting back and relax, visualizing new images or new ideas. Don’t let the practicality of reality bother you. Turn your imagination loose, and dream. Visualize yourself making the images you want to make, going places where you want to photograph, receiving the acclaim you desire. Most importantly enjoy making the work that only you can make.

All the best until next month,
Tillman