Why I’m Making More Room for Photography

I carry a camera pretty much everywhere I go. Whether I’m heading to work, spending time with my family, or going somewhere for the weekend, there’s usually one with me.

But having a camera nearby doesn’t always mean I’m using it.

Sometimes I come home and realize it spent the entire day in my bag. I noticed something I wanted to photograph, thought about taking it out, and then kept moving. Other times, I’m caught up in whatever we’re doing and simply forget it’s there.

Six months of driving past the same photograph

Every week, I drive past the same place and think, “Wow, I should take a picture of that.” It’s part of my weekly routine. I know where it is, and I know when I’ll pass it again. For almost six months, I’ve had that thought and continued driving.

At this point, I’ve spent considerably more time thinking about taking the photograph than it would take to stop and make it.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about what it would look like to give photography a little more room in those moments.

Between my work, YouTube, and personal projects, I spend a lot of time making photographs and films. When there’s a project to finish, I know what I’m looking for. I have a reason to take the camera out, and I’m willing to spend time getting the image.

With everyday life, it’s easier to hesitate. Maybe the light isn’t quite what I want. Maybe the scene feels too familiar. Maybe I don’t want to interrupt the moment.

Those decisions are sometimes reasonable. I want to be present with my family, and every outing doesn’t need to become a shoot. But I also know how much I value photographs of our life together. I want to get better at recognizing when a picture is worth that brief pause.

A few years ago, I photographed our living room.

Ivy is in the center of the room, swinging her favorite stuffed animal, Penny, in circles. Canyon, now our middle child, is a newborn lying in a bassinet. My wife is painting in the corner of the frame.

It’s the same living room we have today, but so much has changed. Even the sconce peeking into the frame is different.

When I took that photograph, I knew it would mean something to me. Somewhere in the exhaustion of having a newborn, I recognized how quickly this part of our life would pass. Looking at it now, I’m grateful I took the camera out.

It also makes me wonder how often I let moments like that pass without making a photograph.

February 2023

Taking the photograph is only part of it, too.

I have images from trips, afternoons with my family, and ordinary days that I’ve barely spent time with since making them. Choosing favorites, editing them, and figuring out which belong together takes intention. That work can get pushed aside when another video or deadline needs my attention.

The photographs are there. I know I’ll get back to them eventually. But “eventually” is a pretty easy place to leave things.

The photographs I keep putting off

The trips I’ve planned to make videos about seem to get it the worst. My Route 66 trip with my dad has been sitting there, waiting for me to give it some attention.

I regularly feel inspired to revisit those photographs—to work through an old trip, edit a few images differently, or find something to share. But that inspiration usually arrives when I’m driving, working, or otherwise unable to sit down with my archive.

By the time I can, something else has my attention. So the photographs wait.

I’m realizing I need to make time for that work instead of waiting for the urge and the opportunity to arrive together.

August 2023

So making more room for photography means using the camera I already have with me more often. Being willing to make a photograph before deciding whether it’s going to be any good. Following an idea a little further when something catches my attention.

It also means making time afterward: looking through what I’ve made, finishing collections, and giving the photographs somewhere to live.

This journal is part of that.

I want a place to share a group of images alongside the story behind them. Sometimes that might be a trip or a longer project. Other times, it might be a few photographs from a month at home, something I’m learning, or a tool that’s become part of how I work.

I enjoy teaching and talking about cameras. I’m excited to share more of the photographs I’m making with them, too.

I don’t expect to photograph everything, and I’m fine with some days ending with the camera still in my bag. But I want to give myself more opportunities to make the photographs I keep thinking about—and spend some time with the ones I already have.

A good place to start would be stopping at that spot I’ve been driving past for six months.