Pain

So. Now, I have a new camera. I have always been trigger-happy. But, I never expected my pictures to be spectacular.

I have been grazing through online photo galleries for a few days. Some pictures have had a certain effect on me. I will try to explain.

I take pictures with my camera. I download them to my Mac. I look at them. I wonder why they are so empty, meaningless and uninteresting. I lose interest in my own pictures and move on to online pastures. I see a picture or a whole gallery of pictures that grabs my attention. Slaps me on the face. Tugs at something deep within me. Makes me despair. I resign to the thought that I will never create a picture that will have the same effect on me.

I've known that there is no artist in me. That I'll always be poorer for that. I don't know if I have felt so strongly about it before. I mean, I've walked through a full day of Rembrandt vs Caravaggio at the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam. I admired, but I barely flinched.

Maybe, the difference is that I now have the tool in my hands. Is the pain from knowing what masters can do with a tool, which is as good as lifeless in my own hands? The way I'll enjoy a well-written book, but will pull out my hair when I place a QWERTY and a blank screen in front of me. This time, it's real. And, worse. I can almost cry. The eyes tear from not seeing.

The technical details are straight enough. Aperture. Shutter speed. ISO speed. Exposure compensation. Dynamic range. Give me enough time and I'll have a gold medal to show for it. That's not the point.

A creativity void. A composition jinx. An abundance of mediocrity.

As always, there is hope. "Twelve significant photographs in any one year is a good crop.", said Ansel Adams. I'll settle for one. Watch this space.