Of late, I have felt burnout. That does not mean I’ve stopped photographing, but I’ve been evaluating why I photograph.

There is a drive in nearly every artist to continue to improve. To be better, to move faster, to produce more. To grow in one’s craft is always a good thing, but at what speed and to what end?

I can’t speak for all photographers but I find for those in the art of photography, there is the drive to create something more impactful than the last. But for me:

This.

Has become.

Exhausting.

And draining.

This kills creativity when I all I can focus on is more, better, the next bright shiny thing.

When did simplicity become so underrated? When did the simple act of picking up my camera and creating from what is before me become such an exhausting chore?

I think I have it nailed down: I fell into the trap of comparison. I fell into the pointless scrolling on social, a breeding ground for the trap of comparison.

I spent too much time gazing over the fence at what another is doing and forgot to keep my focus on what is beholden to me. My accessible landscape is different than another. My time constrains and obligations are vastly different. My physical or emotional limits belong to me.

God created me with my own set of limitations. He created me with my own set of brains to function as they do. He did not create me to be the someone on the other side of the slatted wall.

Over the past few months, I’ve spent a lot of time in my photo catalog. I have culled over 4k images. I’ve been reviewing and working with older photographs, forgotten. Many aren’t what I would consider award winning, yet all were created with heart and joy.

I created Whispers of Light later in the evening than Grand Scope, a photograph that has won an award. I never even looked at Whispers of Light with any potential because I didn’t like the rocks as well as Grand Scope. Now, four and a half years after creating this photograph I actually like it better. A lot better. I love the gentle subtleties of evening’s last light, reflecting in Bear Butte Lake. It’s a quiet photograph. A pause for reflection.

That’s what I want my photographs to be. Unhurried, yet deliberate. Unpretentious, yet reflective on God’s beauty.

In preparation for whatever art show is next, I have been led to believe that I must reveal something new. Something better than what I’d created previously.

This is an unrealistic expectation, especially for landscape photography with it’s limitations to the weather and light.

My goal has always been to create from what is before me, whether an intentional idea or exploring a location with unknown possibilities. With this in mind, I can often find something even when weather conditions aren’t what I’d hoped. Photography is so much a part of my relationship with the Lord, trusting in His sovereignty in creating the day as it is. There is never such thing as a wasted day, just a wasted attitude.

Then God said, “Let there be light”; and there was light.

Genesis 1:4

When God created the world in six days by His powerfully spoken word, He set in motion growth cycles, physics, weather patterns. His very intentional design of this universe.

Some days the sky appears more dramatic than others but by who’s perspective is it indeed wonderful? To the parched ground, the clouds pending rain is glorious. To the photographer wishing for an ideal sunset, perhaps not. But that does not make it any less glorious.

So why not just relish these simple moments? Moments full of delight because the One who created them declared His creation good from the very beginning.

So I can enjoy them without expectation or demand for something beyond what I might be capable at that time to create with some glass, a battery and an enclosed box. And if I walk away with something less spectacular than what I thought I’d created before, is that not as good also?

If my creating is all about performance and yet lacks heart, it’s no longer genuine and authentic art.

So in these days when I feel a creative drought, I will not rest in my emotions that are fleeting but look beyond myself to what is true: God created and we have the opportunity to enjoy it.