Now that everything has been photographed do we start over again? Or quit? Or continue to muddle our way through?

chair and painting in the Hermitage Museum. St. Petersburg, Russia. 

The hackneyed response to anyone asking why they should continue taking photographs when it seems like everything in the world has already been photographed over and over again is: "But it hasn't been photographed by you! And your vision is unique." Which I think is mostly a bunch of crap. We don't have just the equivalent of millions of monkeys typing on typewriters we have billions of picture takers pushing billions of shutter buttons. Statistically, and reinforced by instantaneous display and re-referncing, there is little that hasn't at least been tried...

I had lunch with a friend yesterday who spent most of his working life doing a real job for a real company. A job that had absolutely nothing to do with photography. or the arts of any variety. In the last five years, leading up to his youthful retirement, his passion for (and talent at) photography has grown by leaps and bounds. He has attained a strong working knowledge of the craft and is now blazing away at establishing his own style. In the course of our lunch we discussed motivation, inspiration, art and happiness. And I got my consciousness expanded. 

I spent 45 years taking photographs for work. My identity felt tied up with my daily work. The motivation at the bottom of work is usually the making of money. The building of wealth. And while, in retrospect, it's a tough way to do it it can be done. But as my friend pointed out the ability to make sellable photographs is only one part of what makes an art-oriented business financially successful. One must also master the business side of the equation if you are to do more than just tread water. 

He suggested that while my primary bit of self-identity has mostly been that of "photographer" I might do well to contemplate the time, energy and proficiency I brought to the business side of ..... the business. And incorporate that into my current self assessments.  The marketing, negotiation, writing, and selling parts of the business. The skills that make the difference between paying the rent or paying off the mortgage. Between counting pennies and living well. 

I have to admit that I'm floundering a bit with this concept of retirement. The looseness of it. The lack of scheduling boundaries. The absence of targets and primary goals which are normally tied to businesses as much as to the making of art. 

Now, for the first time ever I have a blank schedule and an almost unlimited budget but for the life of me I can't think of a single project that might nag at me to get done. It's like writer's block on steroids. 

Everyone tells me to volunteer but I'm not a candidate for mindlessly finding a charity I have no interest in and spending my "golden years" showing up to do volunteer work. It's way too much like, well, work. I'd rather give money to the non-profits that I value because, after having spent forty years volunteering for various charities and non-profits I know they'd very much appreciate funds more than another warm body that has to be trained and supervised. 

Everyone tells me to spend my time traveling and taking photographs and my general response is that I spent the last 45 years traveling. I've worked in seventeen different countries over the course of my career; some countries many times. I still travel but I think we've all collectively made traveling more like torture than any fun at all. Have you flown lately? I have. Even in first class or business class the ordeal sucks. Have you visited a tourist destination lately? A famous museum? A grand vista? Chances are you shared the experience with thousands of people who you would never spend time with if you had any choice. People who basically moved from the shopping malls to monuments --- for recreation. 

I still enjoy the process of making photographs but I'd enjoy it more if it was combined with a greater sense of purpose. Coupled with a modicum of motivation. But motivation coming from where? 

I refuse to spend the rest of my life writing or talking about the past. How great it was to shoot Tri-X film. How wonderful and rich printing papers were in the "golden age" and how I'm working on my archives/legacy. That's profoundly boring. A stupid waste of time.

I'm hearing from so many people that they've lost the inspiration to photograph. The equipment continues to pile up but the inertia to shoot is winding down. Not just old duffers but people much younger who, before the torrent of endless images hit the internet, were excited to learn and execute a vision for photography. Now? Not so much. 

There is no magic bullet for this. We all have to find our own ways through the maze. But some days are harder than others. 

Thank goodness for the existence of daily swim practice. And lunch with friends. Good health. And the existence of an art that always seems to welcome one back no matter how egregiously they may have strayed from the flock. I think we all go through these periods of lacking inspiration. I guess it's my turn.

mannequin in the window of a Lisbon tailor's shop.

Fifty three foot tall, red metal sculpture by Alexander Calder, in the Federal Plaza in Chicago. 

Random café table in central Austin. 

Butterfly chairs at the small pool (not lap-able) at the Hotel San José in Austin.

Random, colorful house in Hyde Park, Austin.