Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always been inspired by old photographs. I fondly recall looking through a shoebox full of old photos at my Grandmother’s when I was a young child. They seemed oddly different compared to the photos my parents took. Mostly black & white, many shot on old Brownie cameras whose lenses had some distortion or blur on the edges. Some with light leaks that streaked across parts of the image. And some tin types. The tin types were especially interesting. Dark & mysterious even.  Later in college photo history courses, I learned more about the very early days of photography, and was drawn in even more to that look and feel.

View from the Window at Le Gras, Joseph Nicéphore Niépce - 1826

This morning I recalled some of the photographs from my photo history courses. La cour du domaine du Gras (View from the Window at Le Gras) by Joseph Nicéphore Niépce came to mind. This image was the first successful permanent photograph. It was created using a camera obscura on a roughly 8″ x 10″ sheet of pewter, coated with Bitumen of Judea.

As the use of silver nitrate began to be used in photography, image quality improved. Hand coated film plates always had their own unique qualities, and “perfection” was literally in the hands of the artist. As the process became mechanized, and mass produced, it seemed we strived for a more “perfect” image in an attempt to capture a more accurate sense of reality.

For me, this first photographic image by Niépce creates a more artistic feel than a sharp photograph would. It carries much more emotional energy as well. It is mysterious, dreamlike, and perhaps holds a touch of darkness to it.

The Guardian - by Jim Sincock (shot on iPod Touch, with the Hipstamatic app)

The image reminds me of the quality of some of the photos I’ve taken with my iPod Touch using the Hipstamatic app. Well, the iPod obviously does a bit better job with sharpness and tonal range. (Although, in low light situations, and depending on the “film” used, I have seen iPod photos get almost as grainy as Niépce’s photo above, with only a slightly better tonal range.) And while the iPod camera is not the first digital camera, it’s low quality is vaguely reminiscent of the first photo process.

Art has always been subjective. It took a long time before photography was accepted as art, and it was no different when the digital photo age began. And while I also drool over the new digital camera gear that is coming out, I still like the simple, rougher feel that I get with my silly little iPod Touch camera. If had taken this image with a sharp lens on a high megapixel camera, I’m certain I’d find it less appealing than this shot from my iPod. Not to say that would be true with every image, as there are many times I wish one of my iPod photos had been taken on a better camera.

Perhaps some day I’ll move up to the higher resolution iPhone for my “pocket camera”, but for now I enjoy the high tech, low res iPod Touch for fast and fun shots. Some day I also intend on going back to some of the old photo processes with my 4×5 cameras, but that is a different story.

If you came to this post wondering if the iPod Touch is worth it for photographs, well, it just depends on your needs. I think it is suitable for the “arty” little shots I take with it. I’ve printed images to 5″ x 5″ on smooth inkjet watercolor paper, and the images looked fine. I also feel it is okay for basic shots where you need to document something that doesn’t require a high resolution. I’ve taken a couple farming workshops and it was great for snapping photos of how greenhouses where set up, and other details.  Plus I could type notes in the notepad, or even take a fairly decent quality video. Not bad for an MP3 player!

Wind and rain pummeled our tent for 30 minutes or more, and then tapered off to nothing. We crawled out of the tent to find the darkness parting to allow the late afternoon rays of sun shine on the mountains around us. We were all in awe of the landscape around us, and the intense storm we experienced. Each of us silently wandered off in our own directions. Photographing this beautiful scenery was more like a meditation for me.

Fully experiencing the landscape around me allows me a deeper sense of seeing. It deepens my connection with the landscape, and makes me feel more a part of it, rather than an outsider looking in.

When I’m backpacking, that is my home. There is no rush to get somewhere else. No need to rush back to the car when the weather turns bad. No reason to miss out on the raw intensity of nature. I’m forced to relax. To be present in that environment. To quiet my mind of the random thoughts, worries, & desires. And to see the landscape in a way without preconceived notions of how landscape photography should look.

While I have been to Red Rocks to see bands, I had never really hiked around and checked the place out. So, with my newfound freedom, I took part of the afternoon to hike around Red Rocks and work on some photos as the afternoon sun started to get low in the sky.

It was very fulfilling to be out in nature with my camera again. It has been quite some time since I made the time specifically for working on my art. Being in nature and creating images is my passion. It can no longer be overlooked. I’m grateful to have the opportunity to focus more on my art. I appreciate the “moral” support of my partner, and friends, who encourage me to work at making a living from my art. They see the real me, and understand what I’m passionate about.

As usual, click the photo for a larger version, or check it out in the Landscape Gallery.

This image was taken in the foothills of Boulder, Colorado.  Click the image to see a larger version.

While I’ve always thought my teacher had a good point, right now I’m wondering if that way of thinking has limited me. It is true that working a 9-5 job limits the amount of time one has to focus on things like art. If art truly is one’s passion, it can also be one’s career. If they try. (And I’m not talking about a career doing commercial art or photography.)

Art and fear. For some of us, the fear to actually pursue art as a career seems ingrained in us. But why? My parents have always been supportive of my art, and even suggested I could study fine art photography in college if I wanted. Perhaps the fear comes from society? The “starving artist” story. Or my photo teacher pointing out I wont have time for art once I’m working. He was a great teacher, but why didn’t he encourage students to actually pursue art as their career? Odd.

Here I am, some 25 years later, wondering why I’m not making a living doing my art photography. I’ve always had jobs in the creative field, but I honestly never had the passion for them as I do with my art photography. In a sense, it is like being in a not so good relationship because you don’t think you are worthy of a better one. It is time to change that paradigm.

Recently, while on a hike with my partner, I said “I want to make a living hiking around.”  I kind of said it as a joke, since who gets paid to just hike around? Yet I was also serious about the desire. Then, just the other day as she & I talked about my photography, it hit me. Hiking and landscape photography can equal making a living. I actually tried it on one level, when I first moved to Colorado. But even then I was focusing on the commercial aspect of it, and not the art side.

Over the decades, I’ve had my work in some exhibits (I never tried too hard with exhibiting), and have had my images printed in art magazines and a book or two. Many of my friends view me as an art photographer as opposed to what my actual “career path” is. So what is the hold up? What has been stopping me from pursuing my art photography as a way, the way, to make a living? Just me. Time to refocus my direction, and take the steps toward working on my art as a career.