the sky is the limit, but what if I don't want to go there?

what photography taught me about perfectionism and living in the moment

A few years ago, I was on a little vacation in the alps. On the drive back home after a long hike around a beautiful lake, I found myself exhausted, hungry and a little wet from the dog who, of course, had to go for a swim. I followed a winding road along lush meadows and cows happily munching on the grass in the approaching twilight. Suddenly, I saw this incredible view of the near mountains with the almost full moon rising above it. Believe me when I tell you that I gasped in delight so loud, I almost drove off the road. With 7% battery, no tripod and only a 35mm lens in my pack, I climbed out of the car and crossed the street. There, I found half a dozen other people gathering on the edge of a field admiring the view and taking photos with their phones. I took some photos that turned out alright, (thanks to my trusty Sony which honestly can do no wrong) and then stood there with the other folks in complete awe. The moon's reflection in the lake and the tiny little boats on the bank looked almost surreal, like a painting. Still, in the back of my mind I had this nagging voice that told me to try again and do better. The view is so beautiful, surely there is a way to capture it in absolute perfection? Maybe I can come back here tomorrow?

Well, maybe I could have. These days it often feels like the sky is the limit with all the drones, AI (you won’t ever find anything created with AI here, ever.), creators employing entire teams to film and shoot, the best equipment, editing and presentation. Yes, the sky is the limit, but what if I just don’t want to go there? It took me longer than I’d like to admit to come to the realization that while I’m not extraordinary, my point of view will always be unique. Just like yours. Isn’t that great? There might be nothing new under the sun but your beautifully unique and human perspective is new.

You know, I'm not really a planner when it comes to photography. I'm more of a "let's go explore and see what I can find" sort of person, at least when it comes to my creativity and personal style of photography (try and work with that *and* an autistic brain that loves rigid structure and rules and predictability 🫠). I’ll never be 100% perfectly prepared, I can’t plan with something as fickle as nature. Not that I haven’t tried, mind you. I stood on windy mountain tops and lakes, waiting for the “predicted” clear night sky that’d afford me the best view of the milky way with a stunning backdrop of the alps. Guess what? The fog never cleared and after hours and hours I sleepily stumbled back to the car. On the drive home I drove by a small village that was nestled between two wooded hills. Sprawled over them: the milky way, no fog in sight. I waited for sunrises, sunsets, wildlife, fog to clear, fog to appear, flowers to bloom and herbs to sprout. The thing I learned is that even the best laid plans are just that: plans.

alpine sunset glow: zugspitze

Anyway, returning to my moon over the mountain photo, did I wish I could've done a better job in those moments? Sure. But, being in the moment and enjoying this stunning view felt infinitely more rewarding than any perfect shot I could've ever taken. So if you're a recovering perfectionist like me, please know that it's fine if not everything works out perfectly all of the time. Or at least tell your brain I said so. My brain and I contemplated the concept of perfectionism for 33 years now and we've come to the conclusion that it's nonsense. You're welcome. Now go outside and look at the full moon!

Allie