The Five Percent of Life

February 14, 2017

(3 Minute Read)

Life Through Social Media

For many people, social media is a place to display our highlight reel; it's a collection of all our peak experiences. Have you ever had this experience? Your food arrives at the table, and just as you pick up your fork, your friend across the table tells you to wait so they can - I don't even need to finish the sentence.

I'm not saying it's wrong to share tiny slices of your life on social media. We all have the desire to be seen, understood, and to connect with others at some level. However, sometimes we forget that social media is just a filter.

And we look at all these highlight reels and compare them to our daily lives.

We might see a friend's pictures from their latest travel adventure and make the mistake of thinking that they must be happier that we are.

The Other 95 Percent

What you don't see is the other 95 percent. You miss the daily grind, the struggle, and all the challenges they face. So what if they got to go to Thailand for a three month vacation? You didn't see the four months of sixty hours workweeks.

Barely anyone post pictures from halfway up the hike. They post pictures from the top.

I've heard some fiction writers say that it took them ten pages of shitty writing just to get one good paragraph. Those pages were not a waste. It just took them ten pages of writing to get in the zone of unobstructed creative flow. The word "essay" means "to attempt" and it's in those repeated attempts, shitty or not, that lead to something beautiful.

My Portfolio

About five percent of the photos I make are "good" photos. All this means is that there are about 5 out of every 100 photos actually make me feel proud. If you saw the other 95 percent, you'd see how much more I have to learn.

Within a few months of starting photography, I realized that it's probably better to show 10 great photos than to show a mixed batch of 30 photos. If you only show the best, you'll be perceived as a better photographer, artist, writer...etc. This is how great portfolios are made.

If you look close enough, the seeds of success are found within every failed attempt. Any "success" I might have had is pretty much a pile of garbage rearranged into an art piece. People think that success lies in one direction and failure is in the other direction. The truth is you actually fail your way to "success".

There really is no way to fail, because every "failure" is just an opportunity to learn something. How much do you learn when everything goes right?

“It’s not how far you fall, but how high you bounce that counts - Zig Ziglar”

93 Years Old: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.

January 17, 2017

(5 Minute Read)

The Good

My grandparents have been around for a long time. As I'm typing this, he's 91 and she's 93. Before they retired, my grandpa was a postman and my grandma was a teacher. When government workers retire in Taiwan, they get a hearty pension. As a result of this, they have a stable retirement and can afford to hire a caretaker who's lives with them full time.

I even heard my grandpa say they couldn't finish spending all their money. Good for them. I grateful that my grandparents have financial security and don't burden their kids with money problems.

The best part is that I get to visit them. Once a year for the past three years, I got to see them for a week or two, and last December was the only time I had to pay for the flight myself! My relatives are extremely generous.

One of my favorite things in the world is being a goofball and making my grandma laugh. When she realizes that I said something silly, she gently looks up at me with this adoringly slow reaction and smiles so wrinkly it warms my soul.

I love kissing her loudly on her cheeks, warming up her cold bony hands with mine, or telling her how pretty she looks with that fur coat on.

Lucky for me and my brother, we are her favorite grandkids. It wouldn't surprise me if, literally, the only time she smiles all year is when my brother and I go to visit. It's a sad thought.

The Bad

My grandma cries every time we fly back to the states because she's scared that our goodbye's really mean goodbye. And the truth is, she might be right.

Thankfully, for the last three years, she's been wrong. Somehow, she's held on. It's sad to see her health decline so rapidly. In just one year, she seemed to shrink in half.

She's dying.

All my life I felt removed from the idea of death. I mean, I still don't know what being at a funeral is like. Growing up as a kid, I tried to wrap my head around the idea of life, death and the existential questions would shake me to the bones. I couldn't believe it. I denied the fact that one day, this would all end. How could this powerful force of life just stop in its tracks? It didn't make any sense.

But that's life.

The Ugly

The truth is, most of my family has a hard time dealing with my grandma. And I don't blame them. She's demanding, complains a lot, and nothing is ever good enough.

She's in physical pain, but even worse, she suffers from self-induced mental and emotional pain. But, my grandma has always suffered.

Through adulthood, she lived in a negative state most of the time. When things were wrong, and they always were, she was quick to fire off a slew of blaming and shaming. Because of this, my grandpa got depressed and had to move out for a while.

At the end of our lives, our true character shines through. It's rawest form takes place.

Who knows how we'll deal with dying? You just don't understand. You don't know what it's like to feel so weak you can't even put on your own socks. Or to struggle just to take a shit. And then need someone to wipe your ass for you. You can't really prepare yourself for that.

But if you've always suffered, you'll keep suffering. What's worse is you'll bring other people down too. What we do and who we are affects other people. A lot.

Life is not just about us.

Every choice I make affects the people around me. I hate the fact that my sloppiness irritates my brother, or how my poor spending habits worry my mom. Sometimes, pain can motivate you to change.

The Silver Lining

For the last two years, every time I said goodbye to my grandma, I rejected the thought that this could be the last time I said those words to her. Instead, I forced a smile and said, "Don't worry grandma, I'll be back next year!"

This year was different. This year, I sat with her and cried.

It was painful, and as I cried, I pushed away the fact that she's really dying. But I couldn't deny it anymore. I saw it happening right in front of me.

Then came a beautiful moment. It happened when I accepted that she was dying and for that split second, I looked into her teary eyes and felt a peace so serene you could hear a pin drop. It was as if every drop of fear left me for a single moment.

I wish I could cage that feeling for safekeeping, but I can't.

Death is really weird. We spend our whole lives embracing, magnifying, and experiencing this ever changing force of life. It’s the same force that flows through a seed and pushes it to sprout and grow. It's almost like our body is just a shell for life to borrow.

Anyway, for the last three weeks, I lived with my grandparents, and the whole experience was one big reminder. That life is too goddamn short to suffer. It sure was sobering.

I should call my mom and dad more, cause one day they'll both be grandparents too.

Thinking About Starting Photography? Here's One Person's Journey

January 4, 2017

(9 Minute Read)

The Beginning: Pokemon and Geese

Growing up, Pokemon was everything to an Asian kid like me. I had a Nintendo 64 and bought every Pokemon game that existed. "Pokemon Snap" was one of them. In this game, you played a photographer who drove through different safaris and habitats where wild Pokemon ran far and wide. The goal was to snap photos of all the Pokemon you saw. If your shot looked like a giant pink Jigglypuff in the middle of the frame, you scored high. If your shot looked like Jigglypuff was alone in the corner and depressed, you scored low. Although I think kids today would rather eat grass than play a game like this, I loved it.

I enjoyed playing so much I once beat the entire game in an afternoon. Upon completion, I proceeded to start over and beat the entire game again, all before dinner time. I think this is where my interest in photography was subconsciously born.

Fast forward five years and this might sound strange, but when I was a fourteen I was also obsessed with geese. I'm hoping you didn't close your browser because I'm kidding. Keep reading, I'll explain.

I was at a random picnic with some family friends at Lake Elizabeth and I noticed that one of the adults was taking pictures with a cool looking camera. After asking him a bunch of questions he eventually let me use it. I looked around, saw a flock of geese and took my first few shots. I gave him his camera back and he sounded pleasantly surprised when he told me that the shots I took were actually "good"! I felt like everything I touched would turn to gold, and I was young King Midas himself. That day I told myself that I would buy one of those cool looking cameras before my 20th birthday.

And so I saved money from Christmas, birthdays, and lucky for me, Chinese New Year too. Once I had the money, my next step was to convince my mom to let me pull the trigger on the purchase. When my mom heard the question, she paused for a moment and responded with a challenge. I had to make a powerpoint that listed all the reasons why it was a good idea.

So I made a gigantic "pros" list and a tiny "cons" list that consisted of just one item—the price tag. With a huge smile on my face, I showed her the powerpoint and told her that the camera would last me ten years and that I would be able to capture memories of our family that could last forever. She was convinced and it felt like Christmas Eve.

So at sixteen years old I bought a Canon Rebel XS. It was the most expensive thing I had ever owned. I took shot after shot and never learned to pace myself. (This lesson didn't come until college when I once pre-gamed the entire game).

A Couple Early Lessons: Education and Creative Constraints

In the beginning, I took pictures of every stupid raindrop on every stupid flower I could find. I think often that's the first step in learning any art, to copy what you think is great. One time, I even used a spray bottle to make fake rain in my front yard.

There were two major influences on my learning process during that first year.

The first was reading, "The Digital Photography Book: Part 1" by Scott Kelby. I actually sat on a couch in Barnes and Nobles and read the whole book before I ever thought about buying a camera. It spoke plain English and taught you "how to get this type of shot" and covered portraits, landscapes, and other subjects. Another great resource that helped me learn was digital-photography-school.com. This site exposed me to great images and articles on elements of craft, like exposure or composition.

The second was a creative constraint. In my attempt to copy the greats, I wanted my flower pictures to look like a rose in focus, but with a background looking like a smooth buttery blur. So I sold the only lens I had and bought myself a 50mm f/1.8. With this new lens, I traded the ability to zoom in and out with the ability to achieve that buttery goodness.

For an entire year, I shot with just that lens. With a fixed lens (no zoom), I had to actually move around to frame each shot and this forced me to try harder.

If you're ever in a creative rut, creative constraints can be a simple way of removing the paradox of choice. The paradox of choice states that the more choices we have, the harder it is to make a decision. For example, it'll probably be more intimidating to face a blank canvas with unlimited possibilities than to experiment with the color red just for today.

With a creative constraint, the question of "What should I do?" disappears and the path becomes clear.

Too Much of Something Good

For years I carried my camera around everywhere I went, in search of the perfect shot. As my friends climbed trees and rolled around I was always in the back taking photos. My camera was my ball and chain and I felt like it took away my freedom and the spontaneity I once had. As I approached my senior year of high school, I began to resent being "the photographer" all the time and since I was going to college, the desire for freedom and adventure was stronger than ever.

So upon graduation, I sold my camera and all my gear.

Once college started, I honed my craft in "iphoneography" instead of lugging around that ball and chain. (You can still see some of my old iPhone shots if you scroll down on my Instagram page @probablyjosh)

The Pivot

Joshua Tree National Park, 2016 #travel #35mm #film

Although I didn't have a cool looking camera anymore, I never stopped trying to make beautiful photos, even with the iPhone. (The camera is pretty damn good now). I wanted to start shooting again, but I didn't want to spend a thousand dollars on a new shiny DSLR. What other options did I have?

The idea of "vintage" always appealed to me, so naturally, I looked into film photography. I learned that film was still comparable to the quality of cameras we have today. It didn't make any sense. How could a vinyl record emit sound quality that compares to today's technology? How did the ancient Mayas make a clock as accurate as the clocks we have right now? And how could a six-year-old MacBook be called a dinosaur?

As I was surfing the web, I stumbled upon a great little documentary on youtube called, "Long Live Film". It resonated with everything I loved.

I loved that I could travel abroad and couldn't spend my nights on a computer looking at the shots from the day. I loved that I didn't have to worry about charging a battery. I loved that I could snap a shot and return to that moment of life happening right in front of me. I loved the simplicity. I loved that every click of the shutter carried a price tag, which meant I had to be careful with every shot.

So in September of 2015, I bought myself a Canon AE-1 with a fixed 50mm f/1.4 for a little over $100. It came in the mail just in time for my Taiwan trip.

In those ten days in Taiwan, I shot a total of 11 rolls of Fujifilm 400. When I got back home, I paid over $150 to get them developed/scanned and was eager to get the results back. They were horrible. And I was ecstatic. Most of my shots were way too dark, and I knew I had learned a valuable lesson.

I continued shooting film all year in 2016 in major cities like Prague, New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles, and San Diego. I also got to go to a couple National Parks like Joshua Tree and Zion. It was just the beginning.

Problem or Challenge?

Joshua Tree National Park, 2016 #Bianca #35mm #film

Film developing/scanning services in California cost about $13-18 a roll depending on where you go. I didn't have any plan to pay for it all, but I didn't want to stop shooting.

At the time, I also read Eric Kim's blog post on, "What I Learned Processing 164 Rolls of Film After Waiting a Year".(http://erickimphotography.com/blog/2015/03/23/what-i-learned-processing-164-rolls-of-film-after-waiting-a-year/)

The idea of letting my film "marinate" before getting them developed intrigued me, but honestly, I didn't have the money anyway. So I kept shooting. One day, I counted the pile of film I had in my shoebox and realized I was approaching 50 rolls of undeveloped film. The cost would be about $750 to see my shots.

I didn't know how I was going to pull it off. But one day, I literally had a lightbulb moment when I was driving home and my tail light suddenly exploded. I was so mad I cried. Okay, nothing really exploded and I didn't cry, but when I got the answer, I felt like I heard the voice of Morgan Freeman.

Taiwan was the answer. I knew a lot of things were cheaper there since I had visited in the past. I did some asking around and found out that the cost was about $5 to get a roll developed/scanned. The best thing was, I already booked a flight a few months before for a trip at the end of the year. Everything was falling into place.

Concluding Thoughts

Finally, here I am publishing this website and kicking off my blog with this post. I'm still not sure where the journey will take me and I've played some ideas of learning to shoot weddings or creating fine art wedding albums or shooting babies and families (with a camera of course), selling prints, or perhaps teaching workshops.

The latter sounds exciting, but we'll see where this year takes me. I have no idea what's ahead, but I've never been more passionate about this art form than in this moment as I write these final words.

Thanks for reading!