The Inner Art of Photography

Hello!

As glamorous as photography seems to be, and as simple as it seems to point-and-shoot, photography is far more an inward art than a digital product. Photography rides on being open and prepared for the “perfect moment”. The more I learn about photography, the more difficult it seems to find such moments. I used to be happy taking photos in the middle of the day, until I came to learn that low light really seems to accentuate the picture with depth and contrast; now getting up early or staying up late for photographs is normal. I used to be happy photographing a scene during a cloudless sunset, until I discovered that clouds can give a picture prominence. Additional lessons I’ve faced include framing and angle, colors, focus, lighting, speed, and much more. It seems that what used to be a simple camera click has transformed into a smorgasbord of components, settings, and opportunities that must be somehow aligned in order to actually capture that “perfect picture”. 

Setup for Old Faithful Geyser (If the geyser would only erupt!)

This lesson has been really standing out to me this week. For two days in a row I have been set up for the perfect picture: I arrived early to take a few test photos to ensure I wouldn’t miss the perfect moment. The first night, I had hiked to Observation Point for a birds-eye view of Old Faithful at sunset. The second night, I spent my evening poised near Riverside Geyser for another perfect photo at sunset. Only one problem: both geysers erupted ten minutes after sunset! 

Old Faithful Geyser from Observation Point, ten minutes after sunset

No matter how much I wished things happen the way I plan, nor how much preparation I do to capture the perfect photo, there is so much of photography that is beyond my control. No matter how much I learn about it or spend time scoping out locations, control will always be beyond my grasp. 

Setup for Riverside Geyser (If the geyser would only erupt!)

During my days off, I visited Grand Teton National Park just south of Yellowstone. My plan was to capture some scenes before the snow receded up the mountains. In the midst of my explorations though, my photography waned as several thunderstorms rolled through, obstructing the mountains and blighting my idea of capturing great moments. For several hours I sat in my car reading my book while a heavy rain enveloped the car, enjoying the delightful pitter-patter upon the windshield. As my hopes of capturing the perfect moment waned, I decided to instead spend my time in prayer and silence—thanking God for the opportunity to enjoy such beauty even though it would not be captured by the camera. 

Riverside Geyser, ten minutes after sunset

As the afternoon sun set over the mountains, I was positioned directly across from these jagged peaks enjoying my time. To the north, clear skies were turning into beautiful accents of low light, and to the south thunderhead clouds were beginning to turn pink. Either direction held beautiful light, but where I sat, a large, dark cloud obstructed the view. Chasing the sun in another direction would take too long. Instead, I sat watching the scene in gratitude despite my disappointment. 

As the sun dropped behind the mountains, the clouds were illuminated by its light, transforming a mundane scene into a majestic panorama! I was breathless witnessing this beauty as luminous clouds wrapped around the peaks of the Tetons and then unfurl in glorious color. 

Grand Teton Sunset

The next morning I awoke at 4:00 AM after a short night filled with a thunderstorm. With such a storm passing through, it was likely that these clouds would block the sunrise. Nevertheless, I started to drive, hoping to find a good spot to capture the sunrise…if there was a sunrise at all. I sat on the shore of Jackson Lake, and to my astonishment, the passing storm muted the sunrise, but in its place, I watched the most beautiful sunrise unfold before me. I was caught up in wonder and praise. Like my high school choir used to sing, “How can I keep from singing?”

Grand Teton Sunrise over Jackson Lake

No matter how much equipment a photographer has, no matter what sort of techniques the s/he has mastered, and no matter how well Photoshop can edit unwanted flaws, a photographer remains at the mercy of her/his surroundings. Devotion to the art keeps driving the photographer out of bed to set up for another sunrise, but it is the ability to release control over the scene that makes photography a spiritual experience to me. It is my privilege to show up and witness God as He takes a scene and makes something beautiful of it.