Art is important.

While at times it seems as though the world does care if we take pictures or not, we should remember that most of the benefit of art goes to the creator. With only 1 exception, all of the important relationships I have formed in the last 20 years have come from photography. At least half of my most cherished memories come from times when I have been out with my camera and when I became depressed following my treatment for thyroid cancer, it was photography that helped me rebuild my confidence.

If something is important, we need to make the time for it.

One of the biggest mistakes I see other landscape photographers making is not setting aside time for practice. By practice, I simply mean taking photos. As 75% of the time (at least), I will fail to produce a photo worthy of my portfolio, I find it more satisfying to label my failures as 'practice'.

When I first became interested in landscape photography, the advice from those in the know was clear: we should only take photos when the conditions are good. Much was made of the importance of golden hour and how landscape photography relies on 'epic' light. As a result, I started to believe that unless conditions were 'perfect', there was no point taking photos. The theory was fine but for one thing. This seriously limited my opportunities to practice.

On the rare occasions that the forecast promised the conditions I had been led to believe would result in an award-winning photograph, I found I was ill-prepared to take advantage. That soft, warm light that comes just after sunrise (or just before sunset) and is so coveted by landscape photographers is fleeting in its nature. By the time I'd worked out the best angle and reminded myself how my camera worked, the moment had usually passed.

Eventually, the frustration of too many missed opportunities became too much and I realised if I was to produce the level of work I knew I was capable of, I would have to commit to regular practice. I decided that Saturday mornings would be set aside for photography. As at the time, it was my only opportunity each week to take photos, I went out regardless of the forecast. To begin with, I struggled. Too many attempts to photograph the wider landscape in flat light saw me return home empty-handed. But eventually, things started to improve. 

I discovered that even in failure, I was starting to build a knowledge of the landscape. I was discovering new subjects and beginning to see improvement in my compositions. Operating my camera became second nature and so when opportunity did present itself, I was more able to take advantage. But most importantly of all, I started to learn how to vary my approach based on the conditions. 

The truth about landscape photography is that we never know when we will produce our best work. It is almost impossible to predict when all the elements will align and we will return home triumphant! I have learned to treat each trip out with my camera as practice. Sometimes, a practice session will produce something worthy of my portfolio. The rest of the time, it can seem as though my time has been wasted, but the cumulative effect of consistently putting myself out there is undeniable.

My advice to anyone who wants to improve the standard of their landscape photographs is clear. Set aside time for practice. Pick a day of the week that suits you best and commit to getting out regardless of the conditions. If you do that for a year, you will see a remarkable improvement. It is inevitable.

After taking a break from photography for a month following the conclusion of latest project, I have decided once again to commit to regular practice. The result from my first outing was disappointing but I am not concerned. I know from experience, if I put in the time, eventually the results will come. That too is inevitable.

★★★☆☆