fotofunk?
Writers have writer's block. What do we call that for photography?
I recently travelled to Ontario with my teen to visit my elderly parents who each turned 91 in February and March. And once again, I packed my camera and lenses. The equipment is heavy and awkward for travelling when you don’t intend to check luggage. Did I use my camera? Not once.
I admit to experiencing a methodological malaise when it comes to my photographic practice for the past while. I also concede that exhaustion lingers from trying to wrap up my MA in Photojournalism and Documentary Photography when the pandemic hit the planet. I did eventually manage to complete the degree by spring of 2021 followed by months of fixing up my former home in Ontario (that I appreciate is a huge privilege) and the drawn-out, nerve-wracking rollercoaster ride that was the entire year of keeping the home pristine while it was for sale and open to the public (a sale I hoped and anticipated might take two months at most.) When I ultimately sold my home in August 2022, I moved my kid, our dog, and all our belongings 2000 km east on the heels of years of inordinate stress.
Come to think of it, when did a more intense period of stress begin in my life? I survived a violent sexual assault at 30 followed by the extreme physical and emotional wringer of infertility struggle during a 9-year mistake of a relationship, culminating in me ending that and pursuing IVF alone, single-handedly giving birth in 2009 and raising my kid en seule, subsequently succumbing to a major health collapse in November 2014, finally extricating myself from a horribly toxic workplace of 12 years to pursue a two-year master’s that morphed into a three-year pursuit due to global pandemic, meeting that degree with distinction then MOVING MY ENTIRE LIFE and my tiny family to begin again in the Maritimes.
Hmm. By that calculation, I am finally, slowly beginning to unwind from a solid QUARTER CENTURY or more of what’s felt an excessive level of life stress without much consistent or significant downtime. (Honestly, from that perspective, it’s a miracle I’ve achieved what I have during those decades! Phew!)
It’s not that I haven’t photographed in the past while. It’s my zeal that’s been missing. The verve to gather my love, logic, limbs, and lenses enough to get back into a regular rhythm again. I’ve felt mired in muck and mud. Not for lack of ideas. But certainly the required energy.
In the past two decades not even weather would stop me. Weather is something I’ve always been drawn to photograph. I was interested to learn recently from
that Japan is home to 72 micro-seasons. I wonder which season my current life-stage is at? Whether the Nova Scotian almost-winter-winter-snow-sleet-rain-semi-winter-snow-snow-shovelshovel-snow-slush-rain-windy-winter has drained me. (More likely the increasing accumulation of trauma and toil my body and ADD mind have survived the past three+ decades continues to, understandably, take its toll.)On the flight home, I kicked my camera bag beneath the seat and felt no small frustration with myself. Writing this helps me realize I am overdue for a major hiatus. I can forgive myself. Grow compassion like a tree forming new buds.
I know there are highs and lows in every life. This ain’t depression for me. I am more than familiar with how depression manifests in my body. And I abound with ideas that genuinely excite me. Translating them to action appears the challenge. In a month I begin another enormous, multi-year undertaking I’m thrilled to launch.
Maybe this is why my mind and body have slowed, forcing me to take some kind of breather. Not to push myself too hard or beat myself up over what absolutely feels a necessary pause. Time to allow the whole of my personhood—mind, body, soul— to thaw and blossom with the turning of a new season.
Do other photographers/artists out there experience their own occasional funk? I know you must and am curious how that manifests (and, generally, for how long?)
Meantime, I will pat myself on the back that certain scenes/moments/plays of light moved me to at least frame some of our recent journey with my iPhone. Proof of visual vital signs. Maybe the heart for my practice has just slowed like a frog’s in winter. An amphibious stage of artistic pursuit. A necessary hibernation.
I will allow myself time to warm again to my work in sync with Earth awakening to a longer stretch of day and solar exposure. The return to more light always helps. Hope you’re all hanging in there and finding balance now the Equinox has unfolded. On that note, here’s one of the photographs I did manage to make. Happy spring!
I do sometimes experience creative lows/blocks, but, more recently, I’ve realised they’re often related to particular media. For example, if I feel unable to write, I’ll draw/paint in my sketchbook or do some photography. And then, when it feels right (it might take hours, days, or weeks) I’ll start to write again. It’s important to give ourselves space to express ourselves in ways that feel right to us at any particular time. Somehow, my creativity seems to flow more naturally and authentically like that. ✨
I am not a photographer, but I do think we can sometimes suffer a kind of fatigue with our creative work, and you're right not to over think it. And down time is never useless. Our little minds are always working away even in the quiet.