I get in moods.
Moods where, when I look back on some of my photos, all I think of is how blah they make me feel. I can recollect the time and place where I took the photos. Remember who was with me and how I felt. But, the photos just don’t grab me.
I look at the exposure and composition. Is the horizon straight? Are the highlights blown? The shadows blocked? Over the years all of that has become rote, muscle memory.
Maybe that’s the problem. I’m thinking so much about the mechanics that I miss the scene or the potential for the scene.
I have been going back over my archives of negatives that were never printed or scanned. Trying to see them with fresh eyes, because, sometimes the unplanned shots, the accidents, turn out to be favorites of mine.
