On my photographer's journey I've often written about confidence, or moreso the lack of it, and how that manifests itself in my case as the Imposter Syndrome.
From building a website to showcase my work, to attending Art Fairs, then Art Shows, to a solo exhibition...every step of the way I have found myself questioning whether I deserved to be there, whether my work was good enough.
The fact that people love my images enough to hang in their homes remains a source of surprise to me. But they do, and each one that sells helps build my confidence and encourages me to take the next step.
So a few months back I felt that it was time to test myself in the arena of a photographic competition. In an act of bravado, I decided not on a local comp, but a full-blown national comp. A friend had suggested the Galah Regional Photography Prize, created to celebrate and support contemporary photography in regional Australia. And having experienced how competitions and events strengthen regional communities earlier this year, I was keen to contribute again.
I understood that this particular comp would attract hundreds and hundreds of quality entries from across the country. For this reason I had no expectation of any outcome, I just knew that I needed to take this step as part of my journey. Flexing my confidence muscles, so to speak.
So I did it, and after a few weeks, it gradually faded from my mind. I hadn't heard back, and expectedly determined that I hadn't made the cut. Imagine then, my utter surprise when a couple of months later, I received an email congratulating me on being a finalist. A FINALIST! One of 48 in the Open Category.
To quote one of the judges, Director of the Tweed Regional Gallery and Margaret Olley Art Centre, Susi Muddiman: "The images selected reflect the depth of talent that is clearly abundant in artists based in regional areas. The quality is outstanding, and the images strong. I can’t wait to see them on the wall. I think there’s a particular aesthetic in the finalists’ images. Some are portraits, some are landscapes, and many are imbued with striking emotional intensity. Some are pensive, some thoughtful and atmospheric, while others reflect the vast landscape of regional locations. You can’t help but react to these images."
Now, maybe I'm a sucker for self-punishment, but her words sent me running to compare my image to the work of the other finalists. And the quality of that work was outstanding. Which meant my first thoughts were "What was I thinking?" I wasn't expecting to get this far, and now here I was, competing at a level in which I felt out of my depth.
I obviously need to reframe these situations as they arise. Does it benefit me to question
my skills and my value each time? To an extent, I think it is healthy to keep challenging my capabilities, and how I express my view of the world through my art. It keeps me wanting to improve. But allowing it to stop me from sharing it, however, is not healthy.
So, the next day, I looked at the other finalists again. And I said to myself "What an honour it is to be selected amongst such talent. What a privilege it is to be invited to hang alongside them. These esteemed judges obviously think it is a worthy finalist. What an exciting opportunity it is to be considered for the prize (which, thanks to the generous support of patrons, is $25,000!)
There will be an opening party for the exhibition at M|Arts in Murwillumbah on November 10th. Susi Muddiman and the other judges, critically acclaimed Australian photo media artist Tamara Dean, and Galah's Art Editor Fiona Bateman, will be there to announce the winners of the two categories: open, and student.
And I'll be there too, now feeling comfortable in being a finalist, proud to have my work on dispay, and happy to have come this far. Anything else will be a bonus.
As for constantly questioning myself? What a galah I can be!
PS. And as this is a photography site, now for my photography tip (and a cautionary tale)...
My photo, "The Stillness of a Salt Lake Sunrise" somewhat belies its title. It was taken at Lake Cowan, north of Norseman, at around 4.50am on New Year's Day. The salt lakes that dot Australia's arid heart are amazing at any time, but especially so at daybreak, as the light exposes these scars on the hide of the land. They are indeed eerily still.
I positioned my camera and tripod on the raised embankment of the railway track that skirted the lake, then turned to enjoy the stark serenity while waiting for the light to become just right. Nothing moved except for a sole road train that roared past on the highway, the roar quickly fading back into that still silence. All but for one noise I didn't expect...
As I stood there in my usual pre-dawn semi-meditative state, a solitary stiff breeze raised itself from somewhere and broke the stillness for a brief few moments, with enough movement for me to hear a heart-sinking thud and tinkling of glass behind me. I turned to find that my tripod had somehow toppled, bringing my camera crashing down onto the railway track. Expecting the worst, I gingerly picked it up to inspect the damage. Unbelievably, despite an ugly dent in the filter mounting ring, only the actual UV filter glass had broken. The lens glass appeared undamaged and after a quick focus test, I was relieved to discover it was still functioning properly! And that folks, is a good enough reminder to use a filter, any filter, when shooting in the rough!
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