I have spent a lot of my life trying to become more efficient.
Better systems. Better workflows. Less wasted time. Faster ways to move from an idea to a finished result.
Most of the time, that is useful.
But I am beginning to think there are parts of creative work where efficiency can actually become the enemy.
Some photographs cannot be rushed into existence.
Some projects need wandering, repetition, research, waiting, and long stretches where nothing obvious seems to be happening.
What looks like wasted time may actually be the work.
Not Everything Needs to Be Productive
Photography can easily become another form of production.
Make the photograph.
Finish the print.
Publish the article.
Post the video.
Move on to the next thing.
There is nothing inherently wrong with completing work. In fact, finishing things matters.
But I think there is a danger when we begin measuring every part of the creative process by how much it produces.
If I spend several hours somewhere and never expose a sheet of film, was the trip wasted?
Not necessarily.
Maybe I noticed how the light changes late in the afternoon.
Maybe I found something I had walked past ten times before.
Maybe I learned something about the history of the place.
Maybe I realized the photograph I thought I wanted to make was not actually the photograph that mattered.
Those things are difficult to measure.
But they can completely change the work that comes later.
Observation Requires Time
There is a difference between looking for a photograph and actually seeing.
When I arrive somewhere with the goal of making an image, I naturally begin searching.
Where is the composition?
What is the light doing?
Where should I put the camera?
Those are necessary questions.
But sometimes they also narrow my attention too quickly.
I begin looking for what I already expect to find.
When I stay longer, something changes.
The obvious possibilities begin to lose their grip.
Small details become more noticeable.
Relationships appear.
Something that initially seemed unimportant starts pulling at my attention.
This is one of the reasons I increasingly value simply spending time with a subject.
I don’t always need another subject.
Sometimes I need to understand the one already in front of me more deeply.
Give Yourself Permission to Wander
I also want to allow more wandering into my work.
Not aimlessness.
Curiosity.
Following something because it interests me even when I cannot immediately explain how it fits into the project.
A historical reference might lead to an old photograph.
The photograph might lead to a location.
The location might lead to a conversation.
The conversation might completely change how I understand what I am photographing.
You cannot design every meaningful discovery in advance.
Sometimes you have to leave enough room for one to happen.
That is difficult when every hour has already been assigned an outcome.
Slowness Is Not Laziness
There is an important distinction.
Working slowly does not mean avoiding the work.
It does not mean endless preparation.
And it certainly does not mean waiting for perfect conditions before doing anything.
The kind of slowness I am interested in is active.
Observing.
Reading.
Returning.
Making photographs.
Making prints.
Looking again.
Changing direction when the work tells me something I did not expect.
The project is still moving.
I am simply trying not to force it to move faster than my understanding.
Work Slowly Enough to See
I think this is the part I want to remember:
The project does not always need to become more efficient.
My darkroom procedures can become more efficient.
My notes can become better.
My materials can become more organized.
But the creative part needs room for uncertainty.
Room to wander.
Room to return.
Room to wait.
Room to follow an unexpected idea.
Sometimes the most productive thing we can do is stop trying so hard to be productive.
Because the goal is not simply to make more photographs.
The goal is to make photographs that mean something.
And sometimes we have to work slowly enough to see them.
Continue Reading in Darkroom Diary Premium
This free edition shares the central idea behind Work Slowly Enough to See, but the complete Premium article goes much deeper.
In the full article, I explore why returning to the same subjects changes what we see, how wandering creates unexpected connections, why waiting is part of photographic practice, what the traditional darkroom teaches us about time and attention, and why some projects need time to reveal what they are actually about.
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