Personal Algorithm

Sometime in the last 30 years I started to notice that all of my images share a certain look. There’s a consistent flow to the compositions — similar diagonal lines, texture, and emphasis placed in the same areas. Not always, but often enough that I can’t call it coincidence.

In 1996, an instructor at Brooks Institute of Photography planted the seed of an explanation. She said, “There are no accidents in photography.” She went on: “The optic nerve is one of the most active nerves in the body, connected directly to the brain by a very short cable, operating at high bandwidth. When you put the camera to your eye, your subconscious knows exactly what it’s doing — and it does it deliberately, even when you’re not aware.”

It took me the better part of three decades to fully understand what she meant.

What I’ve come to believe is this: we all carry a certain energy that resonates with things particular to us — our taste in food and music, our choice of partner, the books we read. All of it flows from our specific and unique personalities. Am I a human algorithm? I think so. And like any algorithm, mine runs constantly, without my conscious input.

So when I’m out in the landscape searching for a composition, I instantly recognize a scene I know I’ll photograph. The feeling is as powerful as the urge to take a breath. When I was hiking the Dry Creek Trail in mid-June 2016 and came upon this scene, I felt that resonance. It stopped me cold. I set my tripod down and took the photograph.

Knowing this, I don’t stress about when to shoot anymore. I don’t second-guess myself. When I feel the urge — and I can recognize it now — I stop and take the photograph. I don’t allow the conscious mind to intervene.

All I have to do is give it control and obey its wishes. Like any higher power.