Recently I’ve found myself looking back at old work and wishing that I’d shot way more images at the time. Working with over ten years of images that comprise Field Closed for Maintenance was my biggest lesson in this, but it has certainly come up in other projects.

As I put together that current series of images, I continually kicked myself for not shooting more. I wished for alternate compositions, more frequent visits to different subdivisions, and to have shot other locations that I’d missed. It was especially troubling because these subjects are of landscapes in change, and there is no way to go back and revisit a field before it had become a subdivision. At the time, I was new to long-term photography projects and just shot intuitively. I sporadically shot different developments (rather than methodically) and haphazardly utilized different films and formats. I took a picture or two and moved on to a different subject. In all fairness, I was much younger and didn’t even know I was working on a long-term project. But I did end up making life pretty hard for myself ten years later.

While I’m happy with where that work is at (and with how much I’ve learned since “beginning” it), this is where I found that I tend to have a bad habit of being too critical of my surroundings and just not shooting enough. It’s so easy to complain that nothing is interesting, or that this composition isn’t any good, or that the light is terrible, or that I needed to conserve film, or that it’s just not worth pressing the shutter for whatever reason—ultimately resulting in me not shooting enough, if at all. While these excuses absolutely crossed my mind at the time, they still come up on occasion.

However, I’ve sought to address the challenge of this type of overthinking that leads to inaction.

To give some context, today I normally carry three cameras, each with different formats: small (35mm), medium (6x6), and large (4x5). The medium and large formats are there to render the image with the overall look, tonal range, and detail that I want. But the 35mm is the most important of the bunch for a good reason. The purpose of the 35mm camera is more than just to shoot in the 35mm format. Its key goal is to help me make sure that I’m not getting too overly critical of my subjects.

The rule is this: if something happens to catch my attention for more than a fleeting moment, it’s probably worth shooting a few frames of 35mm. As I examine whatever it is further and assess what caught my eye, I determine if it might be worth moving up in formats, to medium or even large. Of course, large format—naturally being more cumbersome and expensive—is reserved for the more special situations that warrant it. But the 35mm camera is there to remind me to ease up and simply follow whatever intuition led me to give that subject an extra half-second glance. It’s the camera I grab first and keep within reach, as it acts as my visual exploration tool.

In practical terms, a lot of my photography centers around driving and exploring. I typically have a destination or certain area in mind, but make it a priority to stop and take a look at whatever catches my eye along the way. Especially if it’s related to new housing developments that I can revisit. To facilitate this exploration, I aim to avoid interstate freeways and large highways where possible. This helps me slow things down and gives me more time to look around.

If I pass by something and it turns my head, it’s probably worth pulling over for. If I’ve got the time, I do so. If not, I’ll make a note to come back. I’ll look over the subject and shoot a few frames of 35mm. When I feel like I’ve worked the scene over and got a good sense for what sort of composition I like, I might consider shooting on medium or large format. Or, I might not—but at least I’ve continued to do battle with the beast that is overthinking. And there have been plenty of times where 35mm, alone, has been adequate on its own. Most of the images in Field Closed for Maintenance are in 35mm, as I didn’t start shooting medium and large format until much later into that project.

A prime example of something catching my eye along the road. In this case, it’s a new subdivision continuing its sprawl down a hillside south of Seattle.

The same principle applies to wandering the streets, traveling, and other scenarios. These are all times where I might be carrying only a 35mm camera, but generally not shooting as much as I’d hope. Reminding myself to just take an initial frame or two of whatever catches my eye helps to open the creative floodgates. Large format photographer Ben Horne similarly talks about this when going on photography trips to the wilderness. Although he plans trips long in advance and has ideas of what he wants to shoot, he also finds that he overthinks things when he gets there. But he does the same thing: fire off a shot or two so that you can remove that mental barrier and reduce overthinking in your photography.

That first image or two probably won’t be anything amazing. However, giving yourself the freedom to take a mediocre image of something that caught your eye so the better ones can start flowing is the key.

Here is an example, below, of working a scene with 35mm (color) and before moving up to large format (black and white). The scene happened to catch my eye as I drove by, and I initially used the 35mm camera to explore the subject of this closed-down store from different angles. While the storefront wasn’t as interesting on its own, I found that the tire marks all over the parking lot stood out and worked well with it to tell the story. After spending some time taking a look at various angles, I decided to shoot a frame on large format (though I ended up preferring the color version on 35mm).

How the 35mm format helps me stop overthinking as a photographer