Hi friends 👋
I’m going to rally against a commonly held idea in the creative space with this one, using a recent trip to Chicago as the backdrop. I produced a short series that I’m really proud to show. As I started to reflect on the work, the details about my headspace and process at the time really struck me, and made me realise I could finally let go of a lesson that doesn’t serve me anymore.
Everything Was a Fog
I flew into Chicago from London on a Saturday evening, and by Sunday afternoon I was deep in the throes of the worst jetlag I have ever experienced. Getting road-runner’d by an anvil directly to the head would have been preferable to whatever was happening to me. Sunday and Monday were my two open days without commitments to explore the city, and hopefully produce some work - I’d never been to Chicago, and I likely won’t get back any time soon. So we power through the pain. Stepping out, the camera was physically around my wrist, but mentally it may as well have been still packed away - I kept thinking “I feel awful. How am I meant to get in the zone here?”.
To be fair, I’m rarely in the zone or anywhere close to near it, so it shouldn’t have been my top concern (getting some eggs or coffee would have been advisable) - but it was a thought I couldn’t shake. It’s been persistently around me lately.
I have all this work to do at the computer, but it’s so nice and sunny outside - how am I meant to get in the zone and do a good job?
I’m going to the city, but there are errands to run - how am I meant to get in the zone and shoot a couple of rolls of film?
But then you just kinda… start.
It’s a strange thing to feel so awful doing something you love, only to have the awful part completely fade away when you are faced with the results of your efforts. Everything was a fog; I barely remember how I saw anything, let alone good things like light playing or strangers exuding their personalities.
There’s no zone. It’s a myth, a delusion, a falsehood. It’s a hustle-culture buzzword designed to make you think that if you’re not giving 100% of your effort and attention and soul towards an output, you’re failing.
You can give whatever you’re able to give and still make great work. You could have a slice of pizza in one hand, a two-aspirin headcold, with your mind on how to get home and still take the picture of your life with your free hand and a half second of luck. Your practice is enough even if you can’t dedicate your every waking thought to it.
Don’t get me wrong, there’s a place for focus. I adore several free hours to dedicate myself to something and really put in the work. Although lately, that ‘work’ is solving shrines in Zelda but hey - there’s tangible rewards at the end unlike creative work so I’m going to forgive myself on that one.
This whole Chicago experience really left an impression on me and the way I want to think about focus going forward. One - outside of creative work, I really want to focus on my well being so that I don’t get as sick or as tired as I felt that week. Two - I want to leverage that newfound well being into making the most out of the focus that I can give.
Make your whole life ‘the zone’, then ‘the zone’s’ purpose is effectively killed - that’s big brain stuff.
I revere other photographers or creatives saying that they can tap into ‘the zone’, or that they produce there best work there. There’s nothing that I mean to shame there or actively dissuade - if you’ve gotten this far and you vehemently disagree and ‘the zone’ brings out the best in you, keep doing it. That’s amazing, you’re doing great.
With the time I have to dedicate to my work in the upcoming half of the year, I’m resolving to do away with whatever effort or mental energy I would expend on trying to access some esoteric plane of creative output that changes it’s shape from person to person. I want to experience things, be present, be well, and capture what I see and interact with during that process.
If we’re doing good, and our mark on the world is the embodiment of who we are as individuals - maybe what we leave behind will be good, too.
