Writing is not for everyone, but for me, it gives my ideas the opportunity to exist outside my head and into the physical world. It also helps me make sense of projects that I want to pursue and even the images that are sitting in front of me.
I first started consistently writing in a notebook during my third year in college. While studying abroad in Tokyo, I enrolled in a poetry course to keep my schedule light and eliminate any actual studying during the semester. The teacher assigned us to keep a small notebook and describe little moments throughout each day. It essentially forced me to write images, rather than photograph them.
Throughout the semester, I continued to jot down these poetic observations. The poetry turned to prose, and soon enough I began writing regularly about experiences and explorations in my surrounding environments.
At that point in time, my photography and writing lived in separate spheres. I didn’t want my beliefs and biases to dilute my images. I felt that the purpose of my images was to depict the truth, while being an objective observer at the same time. Basically, I felt that my writing was for myself and my photography was for others.
This turned out problematic, since removing biases from photographs is just about impossible. Prejudices will always influence the composition and portrayal of subjects throughout the image-making process. It is the photographer’s eye that informs the basic photographic elements that John Szarkowski shared decades ago: the thing itself, the detail, the frame, time, and vantage point.
The More Personal, The More Universal
I struggled mightily during my first year in graduate school. I kept churning out images, but I was stuck in a vicious cycle of failed projects. My images made broad statements about other people and places, without inserting my own voice. Simply put, the work that I was creating had no substance underneath the surface level.
My advisors and classmates encouraged me to find an idea that I was genuinely passionate about; Something that would allow me to express my own perspectives. Enter the concept: the more personal, the more universal.
This idea, popularized by psychologist Carl Rogers, alludes to how humans connect to each other through deep rooted similarities. Not everyone’s backgrounds and experiences are identical, but there are universal concepts and emotions that connect us all. In terms of creative art, a viewer will naturally relate to ideas or feelings found within the work.
This way of thinking doesn’t require the work to be specifically about my personal life. It means that I should have a personal connection or relationship to the work that I am creating. If I am not fully invested in the content, then why should an audience even care?
After some initial hesitation, I eventually decided to revisit my old notebooks. For someone who is generally pretty quiet, I quickly realized that I had a lot to say. Suddenly I had a treasure trove of ideas, and I was the expert source. Pages and pages of built up ideas, thoughts, and opinions that I never considered expressing photographically.
A Reason For Everything
I always remember the days leading up to thesis defense for my MFA degree. I didn’t entirely know what to expect, so in order to prepare myself, I dedicated a single piece of paper to dissecting my entire thesis project. At the top of the page I wrote, “reasons for everything.”
I then began listing every single aspect and detail about the concept, photographs, book, installation, and inspiration. Next to each item listed, I wrote down my reasonings for each decision. The book format, photographic process, image sequencing, frame sizes, stab-stitch binding, font choice. Everything.
While I didn’t always have the most convincing reasons for my choices, this exercise prepared me to respond to just about everything that was questioned during my defense. For my current work, I still try to figure out all the reasons behind what I create and release into the world. This allows me to be more confident in what I am trying to express within the work that I have created.
It is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand I believe that I am able to produce more meaningful work, on the other hand I have also become more stubborn. As my family knows first-hand, even when it comes to finding the correct fabric for creating my photobooks, I can get very picky. It has to feel this way, look like this, and originate from here. It has to make sense!
My Writing Process
In a way, my notebook now has replaced my camera, as it’s almost always within arm’s reach. My initial writings usually start out as scribbles in sloppy, semi-cursive letters. I have plenty of bad ideas. In fact, I will scratch the worst ideas out completely. Embarrassed at even the sight of something so ridiculous.
If I do decide to revisit an idea later on, I will spend more time with it. As the idea slowly clarifies, so does the handwriting. Some ideas will remain in ink form, while others will be explored visually. The ideas then synthesize into shot lists and sometimes even sketches of images that I want to create. I am drawn to the flexibility that a plain piece of paper has; no straight lines, no spellcheck, and no delete button.
I put boxes around main ideas and titles. I underline the words that I want to replace with synonyms. I use circles and arrows to connect ideas that are out of order. I rewrite over and over again, then I refer back to the original idea and see if it is still true to what I was initially trying to say.
I believe my best writing is when a writing block breaks free. I can just sit down and write quickly and randomly. Different tangents and fragmented observations flow out, all towards the goal of releasing my thoughts onto paper. I turn up my music and let my pen do the talking.