Whispers and shouts

In photography, we typically celebrate the dramatic. Landscapes with explosive colors. Powerful wildlife in the midst of intense action. But that’s not usually how I see the world.

Most of the time I’m in nature I’m thinking. About the meaning of life. About how everything is connected to everything else. How all of us — human, plant, or animal — are just trying to get by.

The narrative in my head is deeply philosophical, but the photos we often show don’t ask us to think. They are eye candy simply commands our attention.

My path into the world of art began in the Impressionism wing of the Art Institute of Chicago. I’m not a painter and likely never will be. But my day there impressed upon me that even paintings of landscapes can convey experiences and emotions. It’s a lesson that I took to heart and is often something I think about as I’m making my pictures. The idea shapes not only how I photograph something, it influences what I photograph.

I do much of my thinking as I’m out for a walk. Exercising my legs and lungs seems to also exercise my brain. Being away from screens also helps me concentrate.

Over the past week, I’ve enjoyed watching trees blossom out as I take my afternoon walk. The branches are full of delicate flowers — mostly white and some pink. After one walk, I decided to return with my camera. But what was the best way to depict the experience?

My neighborhood and a nearby forest preserve was filled with these trees. Perhaps the most dramatic way to record the bloom was to pack the frame full of trees, using their bold trunks and branches to provide contrast to the frilly flowers.

But that’s not where my head was. The internal conversations that have been dominating my mind lately have been about the fragility of life. I’ve been thinking about decline and decay and eventual renewal. I’ve been contemplating the impact of one among many. When I went to photograph the blossoms, I decided to make an image that was as true to the springtime beauty as it was to my inner monologue.

What we create and what we share are core duties of the job of artist. I believe that art that truly touches a viewer’s soul is more than just a pretty or dramatic picture. It has something to say. It reveals something about what the artist is thinking or finds interesting. And sometimes the most honest, eloquent way to share that is to whisper, not shout.

Kevin’s book, Five Minutes in Nature, collects images and stories about his experiences in the wilderness, curated to help you have deeper encounters of your own. Preview and order it here. Prints of his images are available through LivingWilderness.com. Learn about new work by joining his mailing list.)