I’ve never fared well in cold weather. Even having grown up in New England, being cold is not something I can tolerate. I would rather be cocooned in blankets than throw on a few extra layers and tough it out through the cold, dry winter wind. Unfortunately for me, my passion is landscape and travel photography, and landscapes don’t wait for warmer days to glisten with beauty. Lucky for me, I’m good at finding inspiration in bad weather.
Some days, I can’t bear to venture far from home. It rains a lot where I live. It’s not a pretty rain (my son and I call it “not rainbow weather”), and it’s not extreme weather or exciting storms. It’s moderate drizzle on a 50-degree day. This is the cusp of cold weather in the Pacific Northwest, and it’s my view for the foreseeable future.
The harsh reality of living in a place where it rains more than the sun shines is that you can’t plan around the weather. It’s something you have to embrace. If you choose not to, you’re going to have a bad time.
1. Pick up your camera.
Sometimes, I do have a bad time. Sometimes I don’t pick up my camera for weeks. It’s during these times that finding inspiration is hard, it’s drained, it’s simply gone. On these uninspiring days, I think, “What’s the point?”
There are only so many photos of my adorable children eating at the breakfast table or watching movies on a rainy day that anyone cares to see. Except, I do care to see them. I’ve never once regretted pressing the shutter button and capturing an otherwise insignificant moment in time. When I look back through my hard drive, at the folders labeled by month, I do regret the months that aren’t there. The months where I didn’t pick up my camera. The months gone too soon, lost to self-doubt or lack of motivation.
2. Photography is therapeutic, even in bad weather.
Photography has always been therapeutic to me, and I’ve long used it as a method of self-expression when words don’t come so easily. When the cold weather blues keep me from venturing too far from my cozy abode, I document inside. My family, our home, our majestic Greyhound, it’s not breathtaking, and sometimes it’s down right boring to anyone on the outside looking in. But to me, it’s everything. It’s not just because I’m the family documentarian and my babies are growing up too quickly, but because the act of picking up my camera and creating something is therapeutic.
I feel accomplished when I go through the process of shooting, editing, and walking away with even just one image that makes me feel something. And in that moment, typically long after the rest of the family is fast asleep, I find myself. I’m proud, I’m inspired, and I’m passionate.
I want to hold on to that feeling forever. I want to bottle it up and store it, rationing it out as needed throughout the winter months.
There is, of course, no bottling of inspiration. The longer you stay away from something, the harder it is to remember. You forget that feeling of passion. Your inspiration slips further and further away with every passing day. You spend more time looking at the work of others and then you do the worst thing possible: you compare yourself, at your worst, to those currently at their best.
3. Find inspiration in the details.
It’s the defiant act of refusing to allow your camera to collect dust.
Sometimes you have to go looking for inspiration. Like, really looking. You have to go out of your way to find something, anything to spark it. And instead of turning to Pinterest or Instagram, sometimes you have to just grab your camera and shoot. Find a pocket of light in your house. Put something in said pocket of light. Shoot. Capture details. Find inspiration in the little details, like fingers, toes and belly buttons. It doesn’t matter if you shoot the same thing a thousand times, you can never capture the same moment.
Photograph what’s been done, the rain on the window, the bubble baths, the gourmet meals or the boxes of mac and cheese.
Sometimes it doesn’t matter what you shoot, it’s the process that pulls you. It’s the defiant act of refusing to allow your camera to collect dust. You may shoot a hundred technically awful images, and it will never matter because you still shot them. You took that step. And you can take it again and again, until eventually you light your own spark and create something beautiful again.
All photos by Jennifer Russell
I had to do a double take. The first image in this article looks like my son! I take to heart the message in this article. There are times in the winter where I find a moment in time where I just pick up my camera and start capturing the details of whatever my kids are doing!
I love this post. Today I’m still riding the high of a 52 week challenge. But I know as a snowy February turns into a wet, but not-any-sunnier March, picking up my camera everyday may start to feel like a chore. If that should happen, I will think of this post and remember it’s the input that matters more than the output.
Thanks!
I so needed to read this today. Thanks for sharing!