Unblocking the artist's block

After five weeks away, the rust had built up. Here's how I fixed it.

It had been five weeks since I last grabbed my camera and wandered out into the midwest landscape. And, if past is prolog, the journey would be rocky and non-productive.

By that, I mean that I expected to be rusty, to struggle with my vision and to have a hard time finding a composition in the early spring landscape.

Its not the first time

I had this problem before, when, after working several months in the flatlands of the midwest, I returned to the desert landscape of Arizona, with its Saguaros standing tall on trails that wind past towering grey granite mountains.

Despite the beauty all around me, I couldn’t “see.” The cacti, mountains, blue sky and desert tails and rocks all were a tangled mess in the frame of my camera; nothing fit together. It took a couple days to sort things out.

So it was reasonable to expect the same issue when I decided that a recent balmy, early-spring day would be good to return to the field.

As a locale, I picked the Fort Sheridan Forest Preserve, which sits quietly along the shores of Lake Michigan, with winding trails, grass covered bluffs, ravines, mature trees and a rocky beachfront with wonderful lakefront vistas.

“Spring Breezes” 3/10/25

This was not a new location. I’ve worked this area before; in summer when playful teenagers and pensive walkers enjoyed the lakefront, and in winter, when a roiling lake sent waves crashing against a rusty breakwall.

But it had been over a year since my last visit, so I hoped that the relative newness of the landscape would quickly restore what I anticipated would be my crippled vision.

Into the grasses

A stiff wind blew across the landscape as I hiked the Lake Overlook Trail, a winding 0.2- mile asphalt trip along a 70-foot bluff that overlooks the lake and runs through fields of yellow grasses and trees.

As the sun set, the grasses turned from pale yellow to almost golden and the sky morphed into a deep blue as it met the horizon where the pristine lake melted into the distance.

The grasses waved wildly as I hit the shutter: first image of the day, and, like I said, the first in five weeks.

Further down the trail, a dirt path appeared, winding off through dormant grasses ever-closer to a fence that separated the seldom used path from a dangerous 70-foot drop towards the lake.

“Spring Walk” 3/10/2025

Behind me the path wound off into the distance; at the end sat a group of trees, their jagged branches reaching towards a blue sky streaked with white. Another few clicks of the shutter.

But the best lie ahead, beyond a circular patch of concrete lined with benches; a rest area for the tired.

More grasses waved before me, this time arranged to mirror the long horizon as they stretched towards the sky. In front of them, dormant grey grasses resting in singular tufts, like a crowd of people worshiping the golden strands standing at attention in the breeze.

Best shoot this from a low angel, I thought. So I sat there in the mud for what seemed like several minutes, long enough to make a few more frames and for cakes of mud to become affixed to my tripod and camera bag, and for moisture to seep into to bottom of my pants.

Ugh!

I stood up, brushed the mud from the tripod and camera bag, felt the moisture that was making its way through the seat of my pants and headed back the trailhead.

Almost two hours had passed; enough!

What happened?!

I made 49 images at Fort Sheridan; three are worth seeing the light of day, a bit above average for me. They aren’t my best work, but considering what I had to work with, I’m ok with them.

More importantly though, somewhere in the mud and the tall grasses of this lakefront forest preserve, the rust had disappeared. I’m not sure how…it just happened.

Or maybe it’s like Andy Warhol once said:

“Don't think about making art, just get it done. Let everyone else decide if it's good or bad, whether they love it or hate it. While they are deciding, make even more art.”

And for that I say thank you…Now… can I wipe the mud from my tripod and camera case?

Influencers

“Show up, show up, show up, and after a while, the muse shows up, too. If she doesn’t show up invited, eventually she just shows up.”

– Isabel Allende, author

“Don’t think. Thinking is the enemy of creativity. It’s self-conscious, and anything self-conscious is lousy. You can’t try to do things. You simply must do things.”

–Ray Bradbury