Once I’d debunked the concept of flow, I was eager to demystify the next myth as soon as possible. It’s creativity. A topic that urgently needs to be discussed more openly. But I’m finding that another topic is more pressing on my mind. And it’s much more tangible. A material one, so to speak.
If you want to learn how to improve your photography, you’ll find a seemingly endless amount of videos and articles dealing with exposure. They cover composition, and purely technical aspects like aperture and shutter speed. And some even offer very useful insights into how to improve your eye. But far too rarely you find helpful advice on something that can be absolutely crucial.
It’s currently late November. The temperatures are hovering around freezing. And something I’ve noticed quite acutely over the past few days: flow, creativity, and a lot of attention to the technology are relatively useless when you simply can’t concentrate because of the cold. When you’re too frozen to even consider stopping, and you have the uneasy feeling that you’ll just drop your beloved camera because your hands are frozen stiff. And the remedy is simple. It’s a wonder it’s talked about so little.
Get yourself a good jacket! With a good jacket, you’ll take 30 more pictures. You’ll get better exposures because, especially in winter, you can easily wait another 20 minutes for the light to improve. The wind won’t matter to you – until the moment you press the shutter, but that’s a different story. Really: A good jacket keeps your focus where it belongs. On the subject, on the moment. And not on keeping your body moving because it’s getting cold. And while we’re on the subject: There are a few more useful tips.
If you have to kneel in the mud for the best perspective, then you have to kneel in the mud. Bad compromises lead into bad pictures. My recommendation – as with the jacket – is: always wear outdoor clothing. It’s designed to be worn and dirty. And if it gets wet, it dries very quickly. Within half an hour, you usually won’t even notice that you’ve just had close physical contact with a rain-soaked meadow. By the way, here’s how to walk across the meadow with ease: Gore-Tex is your friend. Waterproof shoes that you can get properly muddy are also a game-changer for better photos. And there’s even a more absurd tip I stumbled upon on a very windy day.
People without long hair in the front can skip this paragraph. But for those of you who, like me, have longer hair in the front, feel free to share my secret: I keep a hair clip in every one of my camera bags. These hair clips have saved me from several meltdowns because there was simply nothing between me and the viewfinder. Again: the focus should be on the subject, not on what’s getting in the way. So, get your hair out of the way! Of course, it looks ridiculous in the moment. But you’re not supposed to look good, your picture is. No one will ever ask you what you looked like when you took the picture. As I said, my go-to solution is the hair clip. If you can solve the problem with caps: go for it, it looks cooler. I’m usually bothered by the brim, but everyone is different. I know someone who’s been wearing a headband for a while now. I thought it was his style. Then I told him about my hair clips. And he said, “Why do you think I wear a headband? I’ve gotten into the habit of doing it while taking photos.”
Many roads lead to Rome. But if you can’t see the way, you won’t get there.
Equipment is key. A well-designed bag that allows you to grab your camera in seconds. A tripod that’s a joy to use because it can be adjusted with millimeter precision. Good lens caps that are quick and easy to remove. All of this makes the process smoother. But it’s also the simple things that make focusing on the subject easier. Suitable, supportive clothing is definitely one of them.
Right now, I’m thinking about getting an ultralight, foldable tarp in case I need to lie down. Those situations have already arisen. Or ultrathin merino gloves with great insulating properties, yet thin enough to still be able to feel all the tiny controls on a 45-year-old analog camera. Just call me an over-equipper. As an outdoor-person, I always have been. But that’s why I can appreciate when everything just feels right and you can enjoy the moment completely.