Trusting Your Instincts

I often hear photographers talk about instinct as though it is something we are born with. You either have a good eye and natural intuition, or you don't. But I actually believe instinct generally, and photographic instinct specifically is something we develop.

When I first started making photographs, my instincts were relatively undeveloped. I was learning how cameras worked and trying to understand why some photographs worked for me while others didn't. I was also learning something harder to define: what attracted me to an image in the first place.

Every photograph became part of that education. Some worked and some didn't. Sometimes I understood why. Sometimes I didn't. Photographs I liked at the time could become less interesting as my understanding changed, while others became more important.

That process never really stops.

What we call photographic instinct is largely the result of accumulated experience. A decision that appears instinctive can contain years of learning. We may not consciously think through every reason for making a photograph, but our previous experiences are still there, informing the decision.

Our instinct to compose a shot and when to press the shutter release may feel intuitive but I believe it comes from our experiences and learning.

This matters because it means instinct isn't fixed. It can continue to develop throughout a photographic life and therefore you can nurture it and help it mature.

That is one reason I regularly look to try my hand at different genres of photography or learn new techniques. It’s not that I want to take my photography in a different direction, it’s simply I want to help inform my intuition. The experience gives me something I didn't have before. It changes my understanding and becomes part of my photographic vocabulary.

I also look beyond photography for inspiration. Art, music, literature and cinematography can all help broaden my experiences and influence my “photographer’s eye.”

We don't always know what we are learning at the time. An idea can sit somewhere in the back of the mind for months before eventually finding its way into a photograph.

I think being aware of this is important. If instinct develops through experience, then we can actively nurture it. We can put ourselves into unfamiliar situations, experiment and remain open to influences beyond our own discipline.

Trusting instinct doesn't mean assuming that every instinctive decision is right. Sometimes I make a photograph because something tells me to and it doesn't work. That failure is part of the process too. It becomes another experience from which instinct can develop.

I don't think photographic instinct ever reaches a finished state. The photographer I am today sees differently from the photographer I was ten years ago, and the photographer I become in another ten years will see differently again.

So when I trust my instincts, I am not trusting some mysterious ethereal ability I was simply born with, I am trusting everything I have learned so far.

And knowing that I am still learning means there is always room for those instincts to grow.