As an amateur street photographer, this feels good to hear. For a long time I couldn't comprehend how some of the masters took their most famous shots, how they anticipated the so-called decisive moment, framed everything perfectly in a nanosecond, and then got the perfect exposure.
In addition, it felt like all my best shots were 100% luck, only discovered after reviewing them the next day.
It seems like luck (or, maybe, "getting skilled at being lucky") is fundamental to the art.
that's not to say the greats relied only on luck. even my luckiest, one-in-a-million, greatest shot is nothing compared to what Frank left on the cutting room floor of The Americans.
Comments
As an amateur street photographer, this feels good to hear. For a long time I couldn't comprehend how some of the masters took their most famous shots, how they anticipated the so-called decisive moment, framed everything perfectly in a nanosecond, and then got the perfect exposure.
In addition, it felt like all my best shots were 100% luck, only discovered after reviewing them the next day.
It seems like luck (or, maybe, "getting skilled at being lucky") is fundamental to the art.
that's not to say the greats relied only on luck. even my luckiest, one-in-a-million, greatest shot is nothing compared to what Frank left on the cutting room floor of The Americans.
They just got very good at it like the pianist/e who's been playing piano since s/he was five. Like Chick Corea or Ray Charles.
As to any discipline that deals with abject failure, I'd recommend reading "Zen in the art of archery".