The 365 Photo Project isn't something I came up with. In fact, photographers have been doing it for years. It takes dedication, patience, ingenuity, and a surplus of creativity. This summer I spoke to a few different photographers who had done this challenge in the past, a couple had finished it, a few did not, and I learned some valuable lessons as I set out to start my own challenge; most importantly, to create a backlog. Conceptual, fine art photography is one genre that often requires a lot of photoshopping. While talking with other fine art photographers, there seemed to be a consensus that creating a backlog of images saves time spent in photoshop every day trying to piece together a photo for that day. By stocking up on a bunch of edited photos, you have something to pull out on those days when you don't feel like shooting, you know... like when it's winter, and cold, and you don't want to go outside. Currently I have just over a month's worth of photos in my backlog, photos which comprise three separate fine art series, The Path, Propagation, and Odysseus + The Siren. I was planning on finishing a full 365 images before posting anything, but after a lot of heavy thinking, I've realized I went into this project for the wrong reason...
When I was in school for photography I shot a lot. I always had projects on the go, I was shooting class assignments, family photos, and took on large fine art projects like Transcendence and my Classical Art Reinterpretations. All the while, my teachers reiterated that once we had graduated, it was important for us to create our own projects to keep ourselves motivated and shooting. I didn't do that. I stepped away from photography for a few months to self-publish and continue writing my fantasy series A Chronicle of Crowns, and only picked up my camera for the odd wedding or family shoot, non of which were really for me.
I realized I needed to jump back into my conceptual photography last spring, but had lost any motivation to plan and shoot, so I decided to FORCE that motivation. I decided to do a 365 Photo project. I found a few models, planned a few shoots (some of which did not happen), spent hours editing and then silently put the polished final pieces away.
I thought the only way I could be creative and put out creative content was to force myself to do a 365 Photo Project. And I've kind of proved myself wrong. I love fine art photography, I love creating series with conceptual ideas and characters and themes. Yes, it's a lot of pre-planning and editing, but seeing the final product is always a feast for the eyes. Knowing I've created something out of nothing, but my imagination is something that has always driven me forward, whether it's through the medium of photography, written word, or some other medium - costuming, painting, sculpting, cooking you name it. But art is meant to be shared, it's meant to have an audience. One of the photographers I spoke to said this to me: "It's not about having something to post every single day as much as it is about having quality pieces to share with your audience routinely. We are artists, we need space to be artists, and be the best artists we can be."
So I've decided to change my 365 Photo Project from a series posted every single day for an entire year, to creating (around) 365 conceptual, fine art photos, through various series, that I can post as I've created and am happy with them. Forcing myself into a 365 project did help to re-spark my creative photography, but sitting on all these final images and not being able to share them has been driving me crazy! Starting today, I'll be posting the first three series I've completed, The Path, Propagation, and Odysseus + The Siren, on my Instagram and Facebook, as well as on the Fine Art Series page on my website. I'd love to hear your comments on my work, see your own, and if you're in the Greater Toronto Area of Ontario, maybe we can set up our own shoot!
One of the most valuable things I learned at school, was that you need to create personal projects for yourself, if you don't, you'll forget why you love what you do in the first place.
