The question came up again today. “Is there a relationship between the way you write and the way you shoot photographs?” Somebody asked me a similar question a couple of years ago, and this was my response:

My response was pretty simple: Never thought about it. And then, of course, I started thinking about it.

And, of course, since the question came up again, I started thinking about it again. The last time I was asked the question (yeah, I actually had to go back and find that blog post and re-read it to know how I responded last time), I focused on writing and photography as matters of craft. I said they were two very different crafts, and…

[W]hile writing and photography are both vehicles for self-expression, they’re completely different vehicles. Asking if me if I write the same way I shoot photos is like asking me if I drive a truck the same way I paddle a kayak.

That’s still true. But this morning it occurred to me that there’s another fundamental difference between the two crafts. It’s this:

Photography is the only medium of self expression that requires you to be physically present.

You can paint a picture of a house on the edge of a mountain meadow without being there. You can write a scene that takes place in 17th century Venice or on the planet Tralfamadore. You can dance the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy without being in an enchanted garden. But to shoot a photograph, you have to be there. (Yeah, sure, you can set up a tripod and rig some sort of timed or remotely triggered shutter release, but c’mon, you know what I mean.)

I can write anywhere. To shoot a photo, I have to be there. Right there, at that precise spot in that precise moment. Five seconds earlier, five seconds later, it’s a different moment. Five inches higher, five inches to the right, it’s a different photo. When you shoot a photo, you’re right there.

This isn’t to say photography is more real, or more powerful. I could write a scene…or, better yet, a poem…about the way light falls on a coffee cup that would be as emotional or more emotional than a photo. I could write a scene about a man crossing a street as the light is ten seconds away from turning green that would be full of tension.

A photograph is just now. That both limits its power AND gives it power. A photograph is a real moment as it’s happening.

I hear a lot of people saying stuff like, “This photo tells a story.” No, it doesn’t. A story has a beginning, an ending, and a middle. Again, a photograph is just right now. It might suggest a story, but it’s the viewer who supplies it. It’s not inherent in the photo. A story is what’s taking place outside the frame, what the guy is looking at, why he’s looking, what he’s NOT seeing. A story is what’s in his pockets, what he’s thinking, where he’s going, where’s he’s been, what he did when he was there.

The photo is just a guy with his hands in his pocket, crossing the street while the Don’t Walk warning is flashing.

Back to the question. “Is there a relationship between the way you write and the way you shoot photographs?” Sort of. They both require practice to be consistently good, they both require a certain degree of disciplined composition, they both require a weird merging of passion and control. And (for me, at least), both writing and photography require me to be open and welcoming to the moment. Sometimes a random thought will completely change what I’m writing.

The difference is I can edit and correct what I’ve written. Reality isn’t so easily revised.

EDITORIAL NOTE: This isn’t really relevant to what I’ve just written, but it’s been a while since I’ve mentioned how critical it is to burn the patriarchy to the ground. Burn it, gather the ashes, grind the ashes into dust. Wait for a high wind then scatter the dust so that no two particles exist within a mile of each other. Then bake some bread and eat it with butter and honey.