Photography saved my life
There are numerous Youtube videos and blogs with this title or with words to that effect. A few are listed in the Links section. Here are the words of Ian MacDonald:In the darkest of days my camera was where I found solace. Something happens when I pick up a camera and go out to shoot: I become mindful and focused, the process of photography bringing me an inner peace. My mind doesn’t wander, and, during that dark period of my life, I didn’t think of my demons when I had a camera in my hand. Photography became the thing that got me out of the house when I didn’t want to leave. It became the thing that brought calm to my life. It was one of the few things that I still found joy in while I was learning how to live again. Photography became the light at the end of my tunnel.I doubt we can offer you anything like that sort of relief or calmness. But we can try to take your mind off some of its anxious thoughts and destructive worries. If all else fails, we can boggle your mind with explanations of how best to avoid colour fringing and chromatic abberations! (No, seriously, we won't. I don't give any technical photographic "short-comings" a second thought.)
The camera brought joy back into my life again.
Some background
When I say "we", I mean the Southside Snappers, a photographic Meetup group (its a web thing) based in Glasgow (on the south side of the River Clyde). Every May we have an exhibition as part of the Southside Fringe festival. This year we thought our exhibition topic might be mental ill health.Almost immediately I discovered that we were in good company. The Wellcome Trust runs an annual photographic competition and exhibition on the topic of illness and treatment and this year's special theme is mental health. When I thought up the title of our exhibition, Mind the Gap, I was so pleased with myself that I agreed to commit ourselves to the project.
It didn't take long to realise that we might have bitten off more than we could chew. What or who would be the subjects? Am I to document individuals suffering from agoraphobia? Do I take photographs of them in tears or while tormented by a panic attack? No. Even if I felt up to photographing someone with that level of intimacy, there is no way that sort of rapport would be built up in a couple of weeks. Moreover, it would never be a group project.So, should we create allegoric abstract images of depression? If so, what is a metaphor for eating disorder? Do my lost glove images speak of loss and loneliness? I should point out that I tend to think of them as relating to both the 1960 and 1981 horror films, The Hand! But ultimately I cannot escape the lure of humour, as in the "blue bonnet" at the Birks of Aberfeldy (fashionably modelled by a tiny Rabbie Burns). But it is clear that there must be much, much more to this project than us Snappers snapping away for our own amusement.
Get with the programme! What programme?
In short, I believe that the project must include sufferers of mental ill health. But what form does that inclusion take?Some have suggested to me that sufferers should take all the photos in the exhibition. But that poses two problems. First, what on earth are the photographers supposed to do? Second, how much pressure are you putting on someone, even a first-class experienced photographer, by saying "go take some exhibition-quality photographs of your inner emotions"? For goodness sake, most of our group would take fright at the prospect.
And, yet, having those with poor mental health take photographs is an excellent idea. If you suffer from arachnaphobia, why not take some photographs of bird-eating spiders? Okay, that's not such a good idea. Maybe start with butterflies. Or how about just getting out of the house and having a laugh? What about therapeutic photography?
What is therapeutic photography?
First of all, it isn't therapy. No psychiatrist, psychologist, doctor, nurse, or therapist is required. And none will be involved in this project, except by accident. Our Southside Snappers do, indeed, include a nurse or two. But it is more likely that you will encounter a sailor, a student, a joiner, an IT specialist, an accountant (but please be respectful; someone has to count the money), or a doddering retiree, who may or may not remember what they used to do. Believe it or not, we even have a photographer as a member.Therapeutic photography isn't therapy; it's more just photography, really. It's photography preceded by a well-meaning adjective! At it's most basic, it is little more than putting in time doing something that isn't sitting about tormented by negative thoughts. I suppose you could just as easily take up "therapeutic bowling" or "therapeutic stamp collecting". But photography is a creative endeavour and there is plenty of evidence to suggest that artistic pursuits, such as painting, have stronger positive affects on people's wellness than most hobbies.
Photography is also a great leveller. Without talent and experience (training too?) it is hard to paint a picture that doesn't look like it's been done by an eight-year old! It takes a brave person to produce half a dozen terrible daubs and still come back to the easel for another attempt (I abandoned my painting career when my wife praised my oil painting of a giraffe -- it was, in fact, a cat). Even the most inexperienced and talentless photographer can take a photo. It might be dull, it might generate no "likes", but, then again, there are at least one billion boring photographs snapped on phones every single day. One famous photographer wrote repeatedly in his journal this inspirational message: "Reminder to self -- stop taking boring pictures." But if your photographs are exceptionally boring, you can always call them art! (If you think I'm joking, go look up the famous images of Bernd and Hilla Becher.)
"Therapeutic" is almost synonymous with "healing"; it certainly implies an improvement in one's health, even if only temporarily. A mud bath could be called therapeutic; admittedly not necessarily for those with claustrophobia. But if lying back, semi-naked in mud can soothe away some of your anxiety, imagine how good it would feel to lie face down in the mud, head to toe in waterproofs, photographing a heron! Now, I have to say, I don't fancy that much. I mean lying in the mud, either in a tub or in the reeds. But the point of therapeutic photography is to find something that you do enjoy. And that something could be quite unexpected.
All by myself or in a crowd?
Almost all the stories about photography as a lifesaver have one thing in common: the photographer snaps alone. There are doubtless many psychological reasons for this on top of the simple fact that photography is a very solitary activity. Let's face it, photography isn't exactly beach volleyball. On the other hand, it isn't oil painting either. Have you ever seen two dozen painters at their easels with palette knives flashing in their hands at the finishing line of a major marathon race?
In fact, working in a small group often makes photography much easier. Admittedly, if the subject is an otter, having five fellow photographers along does not make the job simple. But approaching a stranger and asking to take their picture is usually much easier if accompanied by a pal.We went to the coast during Storm Ciara recently to take photos of crashing waves. Many of our family members thought us mad. And some did get a bit wet. But it turned out to be great fun. And it was the largest turn out of our group in quite a while. Therapeutic photography can suit the loner perfectly. But for some of us, such a mad adventure was only really possible with company. There can be comfort belonging to a confederacy of dunces.
You are invited to join the confederacy
Anyone can join the Southside Snappers. But if you suffer from a phobia, depression, anxiety, post-traumatic stress, addiction, loneliness, or other form of mental ill health and wish to join us for some therapeutic photography, then please get in touch. We plan to have "events" (as they are called by the Meetup website) especially for those who wish to try some largely mud-free therapeutic photography. Numbers will be kept small and, if you wish, one-to-one, photogs to therapeuts. Some might find that comforting, others might find it too intense and be happier joining two or three photographers and thus getting lost in the crowd. Visit the page contacts and links for more information on participation.
We Snappers have had a shot at all manner of photographic styles and techniques, including pinhole, film and infrared photography, long exposure, close up, portait and astrophotography. We cover all sorts of subjects, from the Kilt Walk to Santa Dash, from police dog trials to highland cattle being shampooed for a show. We enjoy nature photography, which is not to be confused with naturalist photography. No, we don't photograph in the nude (on either side of the camera), although we did once accidentally wander on to a nudist beach. Fortunately, it was on a weekday in January and the beach was deserted. But there is no need to wait until an event is scheduled that catches your eye. We are more than happy to hear what members or guests would like to do. The emphasis will always be on photography without stress and occasionally with great humour. And this is something worth emphasising. Even those who treat photography as no more than a hobby or pastime rarely enjoy its comical side.
Find out more about our project, The Little Ones, on the page Mind the Gap. You are welcome to join us (and Paul and Pat, pictured here, waiting for friends to come off the train at Thorntonhall) create dioramas to be photographed. The challenge is to do so without laughing.
I assume that many, if not most, of those who wish to engage in our therapeutic photography project have little experience with a camera other than pointing and shooting. I promise that our members are more than ready to help. Indeed, you may have to stop them before their explanation of the "exposure triangle" makes you wish you hadn't come along! If you go to the page, More on Therapeutic Photography, you will also find some gentle and helpful advice that I like to call "the three rules you must obey!"
There may be some experienced, enthusiastic photographers too. They too will find some further thoughts on the page More on Therapeutic Photography. Including thoughts on how therapeutic photography can even become therapy.