Technique. Create. Paralysis. Liberate?

I read way too many photography magazines. I buy way too many photography books (at least relative to other types of books). I study the technical side of digital image creation. I have learned (not enough) about my camera. I know the basics. I know some advanced stuff. This crap is like a drug.

I was at Barnes & Noble today and grabbed the usual assortment of photography books and magazines. One of the Brit mags that are so good. Photo District News. A few books I had seen reviewed. Random magazines I had never purchased. I set them down in a chair and slipped off to the bathroom. Upon my return, some overly-efficient employee had taken my stack off to be re-shelved. So I went and got them again. All of them. All of the books and magazines I had impulsively gathered. I flipped through an interesting book on digital black and white photography (heavy on photoshop, including a very cool sampling technique I had never seen and must learn and ohmygodihavetohavethisbookjustbecauseofthisonetechnique). Another one on landscape photography. I ripped through the stack with all of the cold analysis I would bring to a so many cases I might have dug up for a brief. Sorting. Culling. Stacking (two stacks--one for absolutely not, one to go back through).

And then I opened a magazine called Life Images. The pages of this magazine have very cool shots (although maybe not technically superb) and some words that either inspired them or were inspired by them. (Never mind the fact that the publishing company is apparently big into publishing magazines on quilting.) I created a third stack--keeper--and put this magazine in it.

At that moment, something clicked. I've gotten so into the technical side of my little hobby that I have forgotten what I love about it--creating, capturing, preserving and story-telling. I have managed to get caught (bound?) up in the technical side of photography at the expense of getting out there and pushing the button.

Driving home, I noticed a field of purple flowers leading to a metal barn that will be a great shot if the clouds decide to move out. I noticed the water-laden bunches of scrub grass in a pattern on a hillside next to the interstate that would look oh-so-cool in black and white. Spring is often thought of as a time of renewal. Liberation, too, I hope.