I´m Colleen Miniuk, ask me anything

Hi Colleen, thanks for hosting this AMA! That last image you shared in your intro is one of my top favorites from any photographer that I have seen.

I have been studying Joe Cornish and David Ward and how each approach their photography and composition. Joe’s work is focused on complexity, space, and relationships of the elements in a frame. David’s approach appears to be focused on mystery and simplicity. I am drawn to both approaches in my own work but lean towards simplicity and mystery. I was wondering if you could share your thoughts on both approaches and which more closely aligns with your own photographic process with respect to composition? Thank you.

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Hi Colleen,

Your journey from perfectionism to embracing imperfection is truly inspiring. Could you share some insights into how you navigated this shift? I’ve been struggling with perfectionism myself, particularly during post-processing, and would love to learn from your experience.

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Hi Colleen,

No questions here. I just want to say that you are awesome!

Love, your friend, Ben

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Hi Colleen,
I’ve seen some of your webinars and books and have enjoyed them tremendously, so thanks for taking the time for this AMA.

My question deals with finding/seeing the images you want to make. Do you do a lot of planning, have some “pre-visualized” images in mind, or simply go out in the landscape and observe. I imagine there are some planning tools but how much is just photographing what may look “cool”? My own 40 year background in IT has me doing some (maybe too much) planning but I’m trying to be more present in the moment and take what nature may show me. But how do you learn to see these images more easily?

Larry

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Hi Jackson! High five to my fellow river runner and lover! Thanks for asking about river trips (possibly my favorite thing to talk about…)

My biggest challenge? Not ever having enough river trips and never having enough time with a river. I solve this by going back over and over and over again. LOL

I joke, but there is an air of seriousness to this that I think those who hold down jobs while practicing photography can relate to: we spend a lot of money to travel and we have limited time to explore. Because of these two things, we may go into a trip with expectations of making photographs (maybe even certain kinds of photographs). But what happens when we get there? The light is different than we hoped for. The scene looks totally different than when we last saw it. On a river trip, it’s entirely possible that we don’t even stop in the same locations as previous trips.

When I first started out with photography, this made me so mad and frustrated and annoyed. I’d think silly things like, “Why can’t the universe understand that I want a rainbow at this location at this exact time? I spent all this time and money, darn it!” (Add in a temper-tantrum-style foot stomp for visual effect.) The visualization of such things is a good thing! It trains our brains and builds muscle memory so we can respond faster in the field. However, it turns into a not so great thing when our visualizations turn into expectations. I put so much pressure on myself to perform. I put so much emphasis on forcing a photograph. So much so, I really wasn’t having that much fun with photography…

I started transforming my mentality on this back in 2013 when I got stuck and bored with my work. I had to change something because this uber-planning, expectations-based, “gotta get the shot” approach was not working for me at all. Long story short, I learned how to embrace an autotelic approach, one that focused more on the experience and not at all on the results. I also learned about mushin, the Zen Buddhism philosophy of “mind without mind” (and trust me, as an overanalytical person by nature, this was hard!). Between the autotelic and mushin approach, I’ve improved when it comes to releasing expectations, distractions, anxiety, fears, etc. when I’m exploring the Great Outdoors.

The Colorado River drove these ideas even further into my being during my first rafting trip through the Grand Canyon in 2016—a transformational experience indeed. It was an eight-day trip. I’d never seen the canyon from the river. I had very little idea what I had gotten myself into. As I wrote in my forthcoming memoir: “We couldn’t motor upstream to rerun a rapid. We couldn’t see around the next bend downstream. We had no choice but to live in the present moment exactly as the canyon presented it to us, bend after bend.” The river took these (and other) photography approaches and made them my life approaches.

The canyon and river taught me how to appreciate what Mother Nature delivered in fleeting moments, to have confidence in myself that I will be able to respond to the best of my abilities in a spontaneous moment, and to realize the universe usually comes up with way better opportunities than I could ever plan or expect. It didn’t matter how many images I came home with (thousands…) or how good they were. The ability to learn more about the world and my world was worth more to me than any number of pixels I made. That said, I’m glad I have records of that trip through my images.

This year, I’ll be on my 9th Grand Canyon rafting trip in 9 years (and I have my 10th one next year already booked). There are countless places I still wish to see, places I hope to revisit, experiences I can’t wait to have on the Colorado River (and elsewhere). I absolutely spend time packing, practicing my techniques, and visualizing ideas when I’m home so that I’m ready to rock and roll when I get on that raft. But I no longer go into the trip with expectations of making a photograph. My only expectation for myself is to enjoy the experience as it is presented to me. The photographs will come—or they won’t. And either way, I’ll still have a darn splashy good time.

I think it’s even more important to release expectations when you’re familiar with a place. There’s another Zen Buddhism philosophy called “shoshin.” It encourages approaching with a beginner’s mind, with a childlike wonder, and an openness to an experience as if you’ve never experienced it before. With this mindset, everything has the potential to make you feel awe and wonder all the time. It’s a great way to go through life!

This wasn’t a part of your original question, but since I brought it up: for those who struggle with only getting limited time on locations (i.e. advice I’d give my former corporate self), practice, practice, practice at home, then release expectations when you get to your destination. Go with whatever moment is presented to you. Play like the kid you used to be. Trust yourself and your abilities to respond to whatever situation you get yourself into with success. Enjoy the experience whether you make a photograph or not.

Hope to see you out on a river sometime, Jackson! Thanks again for your question!

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You bet, Abbas! Give your passion a chance to shine! It’s good to know of your interest in assisting. I keep my group sizes small enough to handle on my own, but I will certainly keep you in mind should I decide to take on assistance. All the best to you!

I Colleen, I admire your work and I get inspired by your bubbling. Such a personality you have! I share your child-like attitude in life and photography, and although my bubbles are flat or non existent outwardly, they surely are inside. Thanks for doing this. I have a very technical question that is nagging at me since a while. My images are scattered among different small external drives and I would like to move them to a single one that I can permanently connect to my iMac computer. I am aware of the potential crush of any drives, as is most technology, so the question I have is: what would you recommend to gather my chicken under the same roof and keep an eye on them collectively for better curating my collection? Thank you. Maria

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Hi Matt! Thanks so much for participating in this AMA. Love your question, because finding that what works for us in our own situations is so important.

I dedicated all the free time I had while sitting in my cube, at lunch, after work, etc. to my photography pursuits. Even though it was a hobby at that time, it was absolutely my escape. An obsession even. I used to imagine myself doing things like standing at the edge of the Grand Canyon at sunset and making images on the weekend. To prepare for my “big” trip, I’d study magazines, pour over maps, and even calculate azimuths (this was before Photo Pills and The Photographer’s Ephemeris and other apps). I’d create these very specific visions of the kinds of photographs I’d make when I had a camera in my hand. I even wrote it all out in spreadsheets. Shot lists I called them.

Like I mentioned in an earlier answer to Jackson’s question, this visualization process was a fantastic one. Research shows that visualization is every bit as effective as hands-on practice which I obviously couldn’t do while sitting in a cube (a link to one study: https://www.breakthroughbasketball.com/mental/visualization.html). I still visualize constantly today. I’m so grateful and fortunate I learned early on how to apply my overanalytical tendencies to help me create my work. :blush:

What did not work so well were my expectations…I thought that just by coming up with the ideas it meant they’d come to life. Well, it turns out, the universe didn’t care one bit about what I had designed while sitting in front of a computer screen! Waaaaahhhh! The situations I’d face when I finally got to places like the Grand Canyon at sunset were so different than what my brain had imagined. Instead of embracing the spontaneous moment, I packed my things and went home frustrated about not making any of the images I wanted to. That’s no way to go through life. That’s no way to practice photography. At least for me.

Again, as I wrote in my response to Jackson, it’s understandable that we want to make the most of our time and money when both are limited. For me, I was also trying to make money with my photography (to escape the stress of corporate life) so I put even more expectations to perform and force results. It worked well enough to sell my work and leave Intel, but it did little to feed my creative spirit.

In hindsight, simply discovering and learning fed my spirit. Learning about these places, the light, the opportunities was the most fun for me. That’s still true for me today. I’m more focused on growing as a human than making images. The images still happen…and I enjoy photography much more now!

So if I could give any advice to my former corporate self and to those out there struggling with this now, it’d be this: ask yourself why you’re a photographer in the first place? What brings you the most joy? How can you practice those things that bring you the most joy (and reduce the amount of time you spend on things that are not fulfilling)? If you’re putting pressure on yourself to perform, challenge yourself—where does that come from? Because let’s be honest, society doesn’t care whether you make a photograph or not. Do you care if I ever make an image again? You don’t. I don’t mean that to be depressing. I mean it to be freeing. Be a photographer in any form you wish that makes your happy and brings you balance, however that looks.

Hope that helps gives you some new ideas!

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Hi Alfredo! Thanks so much for your kind words about my “In a Puddle of Neurons” image. Means a lot coming from you! Love your work!

While I’m familiar with both of them, I haven’t studied Joe or David’s work nearly to the extent you obviously have. So my assessment of my own work comes from solely the labels you’ve outlined (and not the in-depth reasoning behind them by Joe or David).

Relationships between elements is absolutely integral to how I compose my images to convey meaning and depth. (Please see my answer to Lauren’s question in this regard and about how I approach my work using Gestalt psychology and human perceptions). So a point for Team Joe.

I’d could and would argue space and simplicity are in the same vein. I aim to communicate my visual message as simply as possible. I K.I.S.S.; fill the frame with just my visual message; and do a border patrol to make sure “everything” in the frame is deliberate and supports my delivery of my visual message. This means using the space as efficiently and effectively as possible. Sometimes that means filling it; sometimes that means using loads of negative space. Space is also a relationship between not only visual elements but also their relationship with the edge of the frame which I pay close attention to. I’m gonna give a point to both Team Joe and Team David on this one.

Complexity and mystery might be intertwined for me too. I aim to make images that mean something to me (and only me). That could be showing the extraordinary in the ordinary or the extra in the extraordinary per my definition. Oftentimes I have these super complex narratives going on in my head about a particular scene. Partly why they are so complex is that the world is oftentimes a mystery to me—and I want to convey that (in the form of relationships using the space I have as simply as possible). Think that means we have another tie between Team Joe and Team David.

Which is to say, yes, all of that resonates with me on some level.

If I can inject my own ingredients to this discussion, when it comes to composition, I’d say I try to inject emotion and story into my work. I don’t even think about making an image unless I’ve formed some sort of connection with the landscape. THEN I use visual language to help me deliver that message. Some images require complexity, some simplicity, some mystery. I mean, sometimes I feel like a nut. Sometimes I don’t. But in delivering that connection visually, I am always thinking about relationships: my relationship with the scene/subject, among the visual elements, among the elements with the frame, and among my photograph with the viewer.

Your question has intrigued me to dive into both Joe’s and David’s work more deeply. While I feel like my approach works for me, it’s always exciting to hear how other people approach their own work and to learn new things that inspires me in new directions. How would you answer this question for your own work?

Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii Ben!!! Thanks so much for your support. You’re awesome too! Love ya, buddy!

Love it! Yes, I think a lot of my approach to photography was baked into the cake in my guiding days, when I had to learn off the bat to make images without knowing where we’d be camping or stopping. And the constant knowledge that the stretches in between stops are just as good, just as much a part of the experience…

Thanks much Trevor. It’s good to hear from a fellow perfectionist! Thanks for your question!

The long answer is 352 pages, LOL. This transition is a part of the theme of my forthcoming memoir set to come out this summer.

The short answer is this: after 40 years of pursuing perfection, success, and achievement and not finding happiness (as society seemingly promised I would…), it took me “failing” twice in an eight-month time frame in 2015 to change my ways. My first “failure” was my husband and I separated. The second “failure” was watching my mom almost die for hours while kayaking on Lake Powell and getting rescued on day 4 on what was supposed to have been a 14-day trip to prove my worth after my separation. There’s just something about almost dying that makes one want to live more fully…also there’s something about not having the perfect life I thought I’d always have (i.e. stay married) that freed me to live what I’d now call a perfectly imperfect life. When life fell apart for me, I could no longer live up to the perfection ideal. I realized chasing perfection was futile, exhausting, and honestly, not that fun. Although I wish I didn’t have to go through divorce, loss, death, and bouncing off walls in a kayak to get to this point (and I certainly do NOT want you or anyone else to have to go through all that), but it all opened the door for much needed change in my life…

But I didn’t go from perfectionist to recovering perfectionist overnight. It took a lot of mental investment and attitude shifts. I realized I couldn’t necessarily control the situations around me (so perfection wasn’t a possibility or option) but I could control my thoughts. I challenged every thought—my beliefs, habits, desires, expectations, and standards. Where did they come from? Why did I care about them? Were they serving me well? If so, I kept them. If not, I threw them out.

I learned how to tame my inner narrative. Thoughts are only thoughts, they are not fact. They are malleable. If I could believe the negative thoughts my brain had made up about being good enough, for example, I could believe the positive thoughts my brain would also make up just the same. Now, I talk kindly to myself. I’m my biggest cheerleader and best friend.

I stopped comparing my journey and success with other people. I started practicing gratitude so that I could be thankful for what I had, not sad for what I lacked. I tapped into an autotelic personality where the experience became more important than the performance or results. I shifted away from achievement and into discovery and learning as my primary goal. I learned when and how to apply perfectionism: I know I’m doing the best I can in every situation given my abilities. I seek excellence now, not perfection.

I’m not sure if any of that helps in regards to perfectionism and processing…what challenges are you experiencing exactly? One resource that may help is my “What’s Enough” keynote from the 2023 OOC Live! Conference at https://youtu.be/cYoGYhEe8x0?feature=shared . I talk about processing and good enough about 2/3rds of the way in. Maybe that can help?!

Hi Larry! Glad to see you here on NPN. Thanks for your wonderful words and your support!

I used to visualize and plan everything so that I’d make great images. Must be that IT background! That didn’t work well for me. Now I visualize and plan but only to create muscle memory. I’ve detached the need for results from the practice.

This article on my Dear Bubbles should help: https://dearbubbles.com/2020/10/planning-to-not-plan/. Also, to help with releasing your reliance on planning and how to get into the flow more creatively in the moment: https://dearbubbles.com/2020/02/keeping-it-fresh/ (the question is slightly different, but the answer applies).

See also my answer to Jackson and Matt in this AMA.

Keep visualizing! But only as training. Not as forming expectations. And keep learning about photography, creativity, and the world around you. Because that will make your visualizations better and more interesting. And have confidence that your brain will know what to do in spontaneous moments without you having to force a photograph. Put that analytical side to you to good use in your photography–then let it all go!

Hi Maria! So glad to see you here and to know that someone out there loves being bubbly too! Cheers to that!

So I’m a PC, not a Mac, so I’m not sure I’m going to be able to answer your question to the specific, technical level you might need. But yes, anytime you can consolidate and streamline access to your images, you’ll save yourself some time. However, just make sure you’re backing up that single source.

Here’s my digital asset management (DAM) process: https://dearbubbles.com/2020/03/dam-sorting-out-image-management/

I have a bunch of external hard drives that store a year’s worth of RAW files from my shoots, but all my chickens end up under the same roof in my WD My Cloud EX4100 which is a 56 TB RAID. A RAID stands for Redundant Array of Independent Discs. You set it up to perform the backups automatically in a variety of different ways. But the key is, it’s creating a backup. Online, it says it’s compatible with MAC OS…

Whether you go with that model or something similar, make sure it has enough space for you to grow into. I love that I have access to My Cloud from afar (anywhere with an internet connection). And that it’s creating a backup. LOL

Hope that helps!

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Hi Colleen! I don’t have a question, but I’m loving all the questions and your thoughtful and detailed answers. It is all great information, and I really love reading your stories and following all of your great adventures. I am not really connecting with the answers to the technical side of photography, that you are talking about in some of your answers. I take photographs because I love being out in nature, love trying to capture what I see and what I feel, and I love sharing the beauty of it all with other people… If I could attend all of your workshops, I am sure I would learn more. I did learn so much from the one workshop of yours that I went to in the Smokies, and I will never forget you having me name what I saw and felt.

Thanks for being here and for sharing your passion with all of these great photographers.

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Hi Colleen:
Sometimes I think my photography never improves because I have such a scattershot approach. I primarily do landscape photography with an inclination toward smaller scenes, but I also like wildlife photography, flower photography, and whatever else catches my fancy. Would it make sense to have a more narrow focus, if I really want get better at landscape work?
Jon Fleuchaus, Team Chaos

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Hi Roberta! Thanks so much for checking in here. And thanks for the encouragement too. I can relate to you loving being outside, expressing your emotions and experiences visually, and sharing beauty. If there’s anything I can help with technically, this is the place! I’d love to see you out on another workshop. We sure had a grand time in the Smokies! (I loved that photo of the trees you created when you ID’d your feelings about it! I remember that too!) Be well, stay wild!

Hi Jon!

I would make the argument, based entirely on my own experience, that photographing a wider range of subjects will—and does—make you a better landscape photographer…

When I left Intel, in response to the advice of a mentor who suggested I’d never make it as a landscape photographer, I photographed everything but weddings, funerals, and babies—and landscapes. I photographed jewelry, senior portraits, landscape architecture, buildings, home interiors, food, soccer, golf—I don’t know anything about soccer or golf! I eventually stopped investing my time in commercial work and shifted back into scenic nature photography. And I brought everything I learned from all of those different types of photography with me into my landscapes…

Photographing food made me a more deliberate composer. When we set design for six hours placing every little napkin and toothpick and mirror, then I got 33 seconds to photograph food before it melts or contorts or falls apart, I became incredibly detail-oriented in designing my landscape frame before I shoot it.

Photographing street photographing introduced me to continuous shot mode and “hail Mary’s” (a technique where you don’t look through the viewfinder while making a photograph). I use continuous shot mode with a hail Mary approach while hand-holding my low-to-the-ground macro compositions in the wind to make sure I get at least one frame in focus.

Photographing wildlife helped me understand how to see and continuously focus on moving water better. It also reminded me that humans connect with eyes and follow the gaze within a composition. I apply that same idea to my rocks, trees, bubbles—they too have “spirits” and have gazes that I need to consider within my arrangements.

Photographing the interior of houses forced me to make sure all my shadows were going the same direction while using flash. While I don’t incorporate flash into my scenes much these days, I am better at seeing shadow and direction of shadow in the landscape especially while using a reflector or diffuser.

I’d broaden this beyond photography. Standup paddleboarding taught me how to read water better which means I see more interesting water-based subjects. Painting taught me how to convey a better sense of depth in my images through lines, layers, light, and Notan. Learning how to play percussion take me rhythm in my writing.

If you’re mindful about collecting raw material for use in the creative process and making new associations, however unlikely or unexpected, these experiences will all influence your landscape photography work. I’d challenge you to list out what you know about wildlife photography, for example, and how that knowledge can benefit your landscapes. I do the same for your flower photography.

By the way, according to the purest definition of landscape photography, it includes anything, big or small, in the landscape. It can even include humans and manmade objects within the landscape. So that’s a pretty broad bucket…

My landscape photography focus can best be summed up as “squirrel!” I make photographs of ANYTHING that was meaningful to me in that moment. I don’t care what it’s called. So forget about the labels. Focus on what brings you joy. Tame the voices in your head saying you should do something else (because why?!?). And never, ever stop learning.

If you want to get better at photography in general, I’d recommend learning more about things like Gestalt psychology, human perceptions, visual design, using natural light, optical illusions to create depth, etc. (stuff we’ve talked about on workshops.) These are foundational ideas that apply to any type of expressive photography. If you want to narrow your focus, narrow it onto a specific technique or idea as it pertains to landscape photography. Practice it in a variety of scenarios in the landscape and otherwise until it becomes second-nature to you. Try ICM with wildlife photography. Try flash with flower photography. Try shooting landscapes with long lenses and shallow depth of fields. What happens? And how could you apply it to your broad landscape work?

But make sure you’re having fun doing it.

Keep shooting, Jon! Long live Team Chaos!

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I don’t know if I have a question, I just wanted to say Colleen is one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet and is a phenomenal photographer! Not afraid to push boundaries in her photography and experiment in whatever direction the wind blows, her work is a breath of fresh air whenever I see it. And, she’s got Bubbles!

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Thanks, Colleen! You’ve liberated me to stay with my helter skelter approach.

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