Photography, slow and fast.

"To take a photograph is to align the head, the eye and the heart. It's a way of life"

- Henri Cartier-Bresson

Henri Cartier-Bresson, founder member of the famous photographic agency Magnum Photos, used the phrase ‘the decisive moment’ to describe the art of capturing unique, fleeting instants on film. Not random snapshots, but carefully – albeit often quickly – composed, these immortalised moments represent the culmination of a mindful practice of photography.

A side benefit of this conscious engagement is a richer experience of each moment. Taking up photography in my twenties brought back something I wasn't aware I had lost. As a child, I was furiously engaged in my environment. I have so many deeply ingrained memories of the sights and smells of the farm I grew up on, the result of an intense fascination with, well, everything. Later memories from my teens and early twenties lack something vital when compared with those of my childhood. Photography helped me to regain that sense of focus and engagement that seems to slow time down and makes for more vivid memories.

In Discover Your Self Through Photography, photographer and educator Ralph Hattersley addresses 'culturally conditioned visual laziness', comparing this to other habits of detachment and distraction such as being a poor listener. Hattersley suggests that the process of engaging with a subject - to discover ways of representing that person or scene in a photograph - can overcome this inertial state of seeing without seeing.

This practice of developing a photographer's eye is an excellent adjunct to mindful living, a way to disengage the autopilot and experience each moment with sensory clarity.

Being able to visualise the end result when taking an image is less crucial in the digital age, given that every photograph can be reviewed immediately. For anyone new to photography, experimenting with film, as outdated as it might now seem, can be a useful learning tool.

The limitations of film impose a need for greater attention. The film type chosen, the limit of 36 frames per roll of 35mm film, the impossibility of checking the results until days or weeks later - these constraints put the photographer’s brain in the driving seat. The histogram, and what the final image will look like, only exist in the photographer’s mind. In my experience, using film I can practically forget the camera is there, as the visualisation is internal. This is not to say digital photography is lesser, but that it does not demand quite the same level of mindful awareness.

Software has made image editing accessible and convenient, and broadened the parameters of the possible. But the tactile alchemy of the darkroom can provide a more mindful experience.

Develop your own film, make your own prints by hand, and you feel you've crafted something. You become an alchemist - mixing chemicals and working in the dark to pull your images from strips of polyester, then working with your hands to dodge and burn your projected image onto blank paper. Dip that paper into chemical baths under a red bulb and watch as your creations appear. Magic.

Practice leads to being better at estimating the end results, just as over time a photographer becomes more adept at 'seeing' the final image, without the advantage of a digital viewscreen, when taking the shot. This makes the person behind the lens more mindful of the decisive moment, and the moments that lead up to it.

This 'slow photography' creates a mindful connection to place, time and subject.

The thrill of getting the image just right however is the same whatever medium is used, whether this means a saleable image or just the fulfilment of a personal vision. I don’t consider myself to be a professional photographer, but I have made enough money from photography over the years to cover the cost of all the (rather expensive) gear I bought. The real satisfaction however is in the visualisation of an image and the successful capture of it in a print. This is the unseen part of photography, the planning and reflection that takes place before and after the images are taken.

I bought my first camera, a cheap APS compact, with the aim of documenting my travels. The results being a bit meh pushed me to learn more about the technical aspects of photography. As interesting as this has been, learning to see the world mindfully has been a far more rewarding process, more so than I could have imagined.

Photography can be one element of mindful living, providing connection to the experience of each moment. This can create a sense of passing through time in a way that is more definite and engaging, as opposed to detached and vague. This cultivated awareness is a powerful antidote to the anxieties of modern life. Work and life routines can be relentlessly demanding, or lead to cycles of activity that provide little sense of authentic engagement. It's not difficult to become stuck in a repetitive rut that makes months and years seem to vanish like smoke. Being deliberately engaged in interpreting the experience of life can slow things down, and bring an authentic, satisfying peace. This is a peace that comes through understanding, rather than transcending all understanding, involving as it does a deliberate choice to be mindful of your experiences and to express them with clarity.

(All images copyrighted property of the author)