Hello Everybody, welcome back to my Blog 😀

I’ve had a bit of crisis of confidence of late. I’ve written a flotilla of distinctly unseaworthy drafts in the meanwhile. These have drifted off into the digital ether, unanchored skiffs adrift on an unknowable tide. Hopefully I’m gonna nail this one to the mast and sail away happy 😁 No promises, mind.

To prevent this draft from drifting out to sea (these salty analogies are making me seasick 🤮😅 ), I thought maybe I should narrow things down, and address a problem that’s plagued me for most of my adult life.

My photography has, for the last six years, predominantly revolved around people. Some no doubt would label me a street photographer, but that’s not a label I particularly subscribe to. That said, I do love capturing fleeting moments, candid expressions, and the human touch. And yet, as time has passed, I’ve found that being around people comes at a cost. I suffer from social anxiety.

This isn’t a new problem to me. Socially, I’ve always been an awkward Annie, I can and do enjoy being around people but, something happens to me after a while, a fuse blows, suddenly it feels just too much too bear and I need to escape.  It’s at this point in the past where I’ve firmly put my foot in it, I’ll say something crass or behave impatiently. A terminal case of Foot in mouth disease, that’s me.

I’d always figured that I was a bit of an introvert. And a lazy one at that. Unfortunately, Covid brought the worst of my habits and anti-social proclivities into sharp focus. When I knew that the social Lockdowns were finally ending I found that I really didn’t want them too.  I’d enjoyed the quiet streets, the empty train stations, the distances we maintained between us. It was like discovering a hidden country within the old one, one that I’d felt very at home within.

Post covid, as society collapsed into collective amnesia, I found myself resenting every little thing. Crowds, queues, traffic, events, packed out buses, shopping centres were the worst, it all felt FAR TOO MUCH and far too soon. I just couldn’t bear it.

And yet, these deep lying introversions feel very at odds with who I thought I was before the pandemic.  I loved being around people, especially during big events like football matches or concerts. Being there, taking part, it mattered to me.

But at the same time, I’ve always felt this anti-social kickback, the urge to disappear into myself. Being social drains the life from me, I reach a limit, and that’s where the foot in mouth strikes. Stress tolerances break, selfishness strides forth and suddenly I need to be away, separate, go away!

Introvert, extrovert, social bunny, happy hermit, yeah but no but. I’ve tried to suss myself out, seeking help because yes, I do have patient, forgiving friends and Fam, despite my anti-social bee nature! The consensus was, go easy on yourself, it’s just how we are as people. Despite our adherence to personality tropes, we rarely stay the same. Sometimes we grow and improve, and other times, we devolve into grumpy dishevelment. Yeah, my existential personality crisis SOLVED, easy cheesy peas🤣 Naahhh, but I had to start somewhere.

How I make photographs now is perhaps the most obvious demonstration of the sea change in my social disposition. Where once I reveled in being in amongst crowds and events, capturing candid moments up close and personal, the busier it was the better the opportunities. I was Scrappy Doo, up and at ’em, all the time. I was exhausting to be around and then, the anxiety would strike….

Now, I’m distinctly stand-offish. I like to place things between me and thee. I’ve consciously re-framed my world to suit how I interact with it. It’s not you, it’s very definitely me. I’ve taken refuge in distance, engaging from afar, allowing myself time and space to tail off and COPE. I figure, better to step back, be less obvious, unseen, then I can keep my feet on the ground, rather than stuffing them in my mouth. Upon the hills of obscurity, I’ve found some solace in being unknown. Which felt like home….

I think I’ve mentioned in the past that I love the photography of Saul Leiter. I feel a deep sense of connection to his work, he is a kindred spirit. Leiter was happiest doing his own thing, away from prying eyes and fussing people, he took photographs from a distance, quietly and calmly, just for himself. He wasn’t interested in pleasing viewers, he simply wanted to express himself through his work.

Leiter’s photographic methodologies, such as using longer lenses to compress different elements of his composition together, using painterly splashes of colour to add depth, shooting through glass or across reflective surfaces to create different levels and textures within the image, using sub-frames to divide his composition or obscuring large parts of his image to create negative space, all of these and more allowed Leiter to express his creativity through abstraction.

What fascinates me about his compositions is that there’s always an element to anchor your eye, usually something human or an architectural feature that your eye could fasten on to, allowing you to make sense of his compositions. Happily, these were methodologies that I had actively been using in my own work.

Spending time with Leiter’s work made me realize that this was a direction I could embrace, it was like getting permission to be ME. By being more abstract and more experimental, I could chart a fresh course to both develop as a street photographer and also deal with the increased social anxiety I’d been experiencing. The important key has been using longer lenses, such as 56mm, 85mm and 100mm focal lengths. Shooting at these focal lengths gives me time and space to compose quietly and slowly. I don’t need to immerse myself in crowds of energy sapping humans if I’m using these lenses. I can still capture images with lots of energy and human dynamism therein, but I don’t need to drown in the now to do so.

So over the last year to eighteen months I’ve increasingly given myself over to this style of photography. Longer focal lengths tends to compress and flatten what you see through the viewfinder. I liken it to collage, the layering of different compositional elements, textures and colours from various distances into one flat surface. It isn’t always straight forward, sudden changes in the light can render areas either completely black or totally over-exposed, so I have to keep a sharp eye on balancing my exposure.  This is true with using wider apertures, which can create large splashes of soft colour and smooth bokeh rich backgrounds, but this can be at the expense of fine details.

Inversely, shooting with a narrow aperture enables you to retain details and textures from near and far. The downside is that the images can be noisier and somewhat busy.  Finding balance is key, and I find the processes both playful and meditative. It’s like free-form jazz, making it up as I go along, but somehow, it all fits together nonetheless.

I feel like I’ve been given a second chance, there’s fresh wind in my sails (sorry, not sorry!). I’ve fallen back in love with making images again, I’m re-exploring familiar areas with a fresh eye (and focal length) and taking photos that I personally really dig, whilst challenging myself constantly to look harder for unusual compositions. In negotiating the willful tides of my anxiety, I feel infinitely more capable, suddenly it all feels possible again. I have good days and there are bad days too. I have to let it run through me like a dose of salts. But I recognize the signs much better now, if the tide starts to rise I just get out. I put my camera away and go home. If I’m in social situation I try to be more honest about my feelings. It really is a case of, it’s not you it’s me. And if people take offence then, that’s not my problem because, I’m dealing.

My reward is losing myself totally to the flow, making images that feel like a truer reflection of me and the problems I’ve encountered with being me, myself and I. By confronting myself and embracing a fresh approach to my photography through abstraction, I’ve discovered a sudden sense of certainty that this is what I should be doing. Instead of treading anxious waters, my feet feel like they’re finally on solid ground 🙂

Thanks for reading and spending time with me, I appreciate your company as always. Have you got a similar story, have you ever struggled with social anxiety? If you have I’d love to hear from you and how you coped with it. Take care and be well, Jay.