There is an old adage. Never judge a book by its cover. Or this case, never a judge a 12 year old “book” by its cover. The image above was taken by my 12 year old nephew Alexander during his half term stay with us here in Cairo. We had done all the usual things, such as visit the Pyramids, the souks and the museums, but Alexander said he wanted to think about photography as a hobby, so whilst we were traveling around in the car we had some rudimentary discussions on exposure, light, depth of field, rules of thirds, leading lines, eye lines etc.

Much of what I tried to impress on him was not about which camera or which lens, but what you were trying to say with the image that you recreated. If you will, the “why” of taking an image was more important than the “how”. The theory we discussed was, I explained, designed to allow him to express what he wanted to say, rather than how to operate the camera.

Armed with my old Canon 20D and some kit lenses, we went off exploring the desert, the villages, the souks and the camel markets. With the cynicism of age I guess I assumed that any teenager would pretend to be listening if only to shut me up – and we all know I can talk!

How wrong can you be.

I had forgotten that at this age, with the mind uncluttered by the harsh knocks of life, already “fit” from hours in the classroom, that teenagers have the capacity to absorb information like a sponge. Not all of them will allow that to happen, but the capacity is there. Alex though showed an immediate grasp of the concepts. He spent hours experimenting on his own with depth of field, shutter settings, ISO settings, seeking the occasional clarification or confirmation, but content to digest and interpret what we had discussed in his own way. For example, I explained panning to him for no more than 3 minutes. The image above was the result.

Of course not all of images were in focus, sharp or a success. Mine aren’t either and I have no excuse! But with every image though that didn’t quite work out, he wanted to understand why or what he should do differently next time. As he grew more confident, so his images really started to impress me. I was particularly struck by his eye for composition, his application of the rule of thirds or the use of the eye line to draw our own eye around the image. The first image of the potter is a wonderful example of that.

Whilst Alex might have learned a few lessons by making the odd mistake, I in turn (re-)learned two valuable lessons. Firstly real progress, real creativity happens when you take risks. Alex reminded me of that. With nothing to lose, no expectations to be missed, nor preconceptions or self induced pressure, he was free to experiment, to take risks and to try new things. The satisfaction on his face when he created in the camera the image he had envisaged in his mind was so rewarding for all of us to witness.

Secondly, he taught me that our preconceived ideas often lead to misjudgment. How often have we dismissed or misjudged youths or teenagers because we don’t take the time to understand their issues or what they are struggling to overcome. It is all too easy to heap pressure or demands on children of that age, where often they need space, encouragement and time to process information, digest it and try to apply it.

Here was someone with an appetite to learn, a willingness to listen and a thirst to improve. Perhaps we all need to step back once or twice and try and see things with the less cluttered or less jaded eye of a 12 year old. Perhaps I need to be less quick to jump to judgment and more open to new ideas.

And Alex? Well he has kindly let me share a few of his images from the last few days. I think that when you consider this was someone who had never picked up a camera before this holiday, we can all wonder at his sense of achievement and his potential for the future.

And if you like his images, do me a favor and drop him a quick email to tell him what you think. I’m not suggesting that he is the next Joey L, but encouragement and endorsement from you will go a long way to shaping his love of photography long after this post is moved to the archives. He is alex-jp@live.com

All of our blogs, flickr accounts, facebook pages and tweets bear evidence that we were all there together and forged friendships that will transcend the different continents and timezones that we all live on. But what has really struck me, in retrospection, was the entirely different approach we all took to capturing our images. I am not just talking about the technical differences – between us we shot on Holgers, Leica, Canon, Nikons, Olympus, wide angle, fixed focal length, film, full sensor, crop sensor and point and shoot. I am talking about our different inspiration and therefore our different vision.

Whilst I was in Chicago I set myself a number of exercises. This post is the final one of those exercises, where I wanted to explore how important my own end vision of an image was to me as part of my own creative process.

I am going to show you 2 images. First off, I’ll show you how I chose to process them as color images. Remember, I had my own vision for this and I had deliberately selected certain aesthetic settings to achieve that, including the idea that I wanted to show the vibrancy of the neon lights and color as dusk fell.

Before I show you the imitated vision, I want to give you some context. I know it is invidious to name names but to illustrate better what I mean I need to be a little cheeky and amplify my argument with some personal observations – so apologies to the Chicago crew.

Take Sabrina’s approach for example. For those of us who have had the privilege of meeting Sabrina, we all have experienced what a great listener she is. She is naturally empathetic and reflective, she seldom offers a suggestion or idea that isn’t both positive or well considered and you immediately warm to her. So while I was trying to melt the latest Lexmark card terrified of missing a single decisive moment, Sabrina waited patiently until the city spoke to her. It called to her early in the morning. Her resulting images showed a private, local, insightful side of Chicago that few casual visitors ever see. Her decision to process in strong contrast Black and White totally reflected her vision for a city transferring from night to day; from local to tourists and from asleep to awake. Check out her blog for her inspiring images.

Or Stuart’s take. I know from being with Stuart on a workshop in Italy that little gets by him. He has an effortless laid back manner that lulls you into a false sense of security. He’ll claim that he “just happened to be there at the precise moment that a ray of light lit up the statue of the Madonna in an otherwise dark Italian graveyard” but, a little like our joint new hero, Cartier Bresson, luck is not really part of his repertoire. He is able to observe things; to anticipate; to spot a trend or a movement that will lead to a “Cartier Bresson decisive moment”. Some of you have yet to see Stuart’s image of two children playing in the fountain called “Can we talk”. Seek it out and you will see what I mean. Or just look at the way that he overlaid the famous “blues” of Chicago onto its other famous signature, its skyline, to provide a stunning series of selenium shots that emphasize the different architectural styles, yet bring them all together into a cohesive group that screams “CHICAGO”

Although we have yet to see Mark Olwick’s images from the trip because he used film, I know from having watched him that we are in for a treat. He will have spotted a combination of light and shadow, texture and form that will leave most of us wondering if we were on the same trip as him. His true post processing technique in the darkroom allows him complete control over how he will realize his vision for how he saw Chicago. And perhaps the largest dollop of respect goes to Sue Ables, who seldom drew the camera to her eye because on this rare occasion she wasn’t getting the inspiration she needed and rather than as so many of us would have bowed to peer pressure, she decided not to force the issue or get frustrated, but to just observe, reflect and wait for the moment.

The common theme then for all of these talented photographers is that, however much they feel they are still on a journey (and it seems that no matter how great, respected or published you are, we are all still on a journey of discovery), there is a maturity about how they approach their vision for each image. If they spot an opportunity it is seldom point, click and move on. Aesthetic selections of shutter speed, ISO, film type, lens selection, time of day, light, primary subject etc are all made with an end vision in mind. Post processing, sometimes consciously and sometimes subconsciously, forms part of the process even before the shutter is clicked, but for every image they strive to have an end vision in mind. And of course there is no way any of us can replicate the exact conditions or decisions to arrive at precisely the same point, the same way, with the same outcome. In other words we cannot copy and get away with it. With ourselves or with any one else for that matter.

Okay, back out of the rat hole and back on message! I am now going to show you how those original images look when I imitated first Stuart’s style and then Sabrina’s. To copy Stuart’s style I use a selenium blue presets and for Sabrina’s I took a strong Black and white contrast

I am not saying that their style is right or wrong, or that the images are better or worse for having tried to copy them. What I am saying is that they are different and, crucially to my mind, show a Chicago that either I wasn’t observant enough to spot or that just doesn’t convey what the City said to me. Or at least for me that is the result. Why? Well simply because they no longer convey the story, mood, feeling or message that I had originally intended. Although both of my original color images are competent in terms of composition or style or technique, the end vision is changed.

Is this making sense? I am not saying that simply using someone else’s Lightroom preset squanders your vision or that you are guilty of plagiarism or that good post-processing will transform rescue an image It might but hat is not the point here. Actually using presets suggests efficiency and expediency because they are a starting point, not an end point in themselves. I am saying that if you only rely on other people’s vision, settings, style or inspiration then your vision is hollow. That type of imitation will kill your vision. And without vision, no amount of imitation will rescue your images. Putting lipstick on a pig does little to hide the fact that it is still a pig, albeit a more ridiculous pig than before.

I have come away with a renewed confidence that my vision is sound – fledgling but sound. It needs to be explored, watered, nurtured, tested, stretched and inspired. But it must never be a pale imitation of what it could be or indeed an imitation of anyone else’s.

I’d be really interested in your thoughts on this, so please re-tweet and comment away! and for those of you kind enough to pander to my ego, I will be posting the full Chicago set tomorrow on facebook and flickr.

Glenn had organized a day of Hindi temples, Buddhist temples, Mosques, Little India, China Town and Arab Street – it seemed like we were doing the whole of Asia in one day over about 5 square miles!

To my shame I hadn’t picked up my camera for about 2 months – a combination of work and family commitments making it impossible. And I learned a couple of valuable lessons in the first hour or so of our photo-day as a result.

I was rusty. No I mean really rusty.

The first indication was that my familiarity with the camera was poor. My hand wasn’t going automatically to the right button. I had to lift my head away from the viewfinder to check settings or to make an adjustment. Although I had set the camera up at the beginning of the day for what I thought the day would bring, in that first hour I constantly found myself having to make adjustments.

The images form that first hour were rubbish, and I missed a number of potentially iconic photos as a result. I was making basic errors over exposure and metering. I  would forget to change the ISO when I moved out from the dark interior into the bright sunlight of the courtyard, resulting in a couple of wasted frames until I realized my mistake,

I would be trying so hard  – too hard as it turned out – to get a great shot that I would forget to check my shutter speed, and expect an image at 1/30th of a sec to be tack sharp when hand holding a 70-200mm lens! Basic errors caused by a lack of familiarity and practice.

As I got more comfortable and the familiarity returned, so the camera began to feel much more of an extension of my mind and body. As a result the images started to be technically more effective. But what really surprised me was  how rusty I had become around the visual story telling. Those first images were nothing more than fancy snaps.

I wasn’t really concentrating on what I was trying to tell with the image. I was shooting portraits with no context or images with no depth or soul. Going into the Hindi temple – my first visit ever to a Hindi temple – it should have been a fertile ground for fresh eyes. The colours, the rituals, the friendliness of the priests and worshipers made it a photographers dream. But I was rusty. I was trying to make every image a quick grab. I was after that iconic shot. As soon as I slowed down, as soon as I really opened my eyes and ears, a whole host of “stories” began to appear.

I wish I could say that I captured them all well. Sadly not, but the point is it got the passion flowing again. It got the desire to be creative, to think about the story I wanted to tell, re-established. I started to become immersed within the story, rather than a casual observer looking on from afar.

So for me I took away two simple lessons from the day.

The first is obvious. You have to become totally proficient with your camera – to be able to set or change things amost blindfold or at least without moving your head from the viewfinder. The camera and it technical capabilities must be an extension of you, if you are to allow the mind to relax and to create. You cannot be open to the environment around you, if you are trying to hard, if you are too rusty or if you are fighting the camera.

A simple remedy for this maybe to start each photo session with a little warm-up exercise. It can be as short as 2 minutes. Glenn told me that when he did a one day workshop with Gavin Gough, they did exactly that. Shoot anything or everything red for 2 minutes and then come back and see what you unearthed.

The second is perhaps as obvious, but arguably what makes the difference between a photographer and a great photographer (and I realize I was very firmly in the former category yesterday). If you shoot infrequently it is unlikely that you will ever perfect your craft. Professional musicians or athletes train arduously – every day. They exercise different aspects of their playing or their training to ensure that they are match fit. Photography is no different. Just getting out once a week or if you can once a day  – even for 10 minutes – will make a difference. Becoming a great photographer is all about working at your craft  – constantly.

I am reminded of a quotation of Aristotle:

We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act but a habit.”