Over the past week, I’ve gotten to mess around with my new-to-me Fujifilm XT2 and have pondered one of the great questions of life – how do I balance my outspoken nature, my eccentricities, without compromising my own success. Or, is that a false premise altogether? I’m not unreasonable, I know when to compromise, when I don’t have to be right, when I can play ball in somebody else’s court. At the same time… People and entities at large are at their best when they become more of what they are, instead of trying to be what they’re not.
I’ve been told plenty of times that if I want “success” I have to know when to simply be like everyone else, not create waves, not voice disagreement, squeaky wheel gets the grease and all that. I have to take photos of certain subjects. I can’t write like that. That presentation style is too “colloquial.” True story, I remember in undergrad we did these group presentations where we got constructive comments from other students. In theory, I love the idea of peer review, but only when there’s actual review. While some loved my laid-back, more accessible presentation style, I got one comment with no elaboration that said my presentation style was “too colloquial.” The fuck do you mean? I was exactly as colloquial as I intended to be. I didn’t get along with a lot of folks in that class. Not to be overly self-indulgent, but I don’t think some people could handle the fact I didn’t conduct myself like a true sterile sexless academic robot and yet could run laps around them with my output. It’s true, though, I don’t do well with arbitrary norms, and that may impact future opportunities for me. Why would I want to be somewhere where I’m not appreciated as myself, though?
To give another anecdote, when I was out backpacking near Mt Rogers a few months back, my friend Anna and I were in camp with an AT thru-hiker with the trail name “Data.” It was a fitting name. He was a retired egghead of some sort, maybe a data analyst or engineer? This was the sort of guy who cares so much about efficiency to the point he recorded his poop habits to figure out the most efficient way to know when, where, and how to go poop on trail. I, on the other hand, shit when I need to. I don’t need math to tell me what my body feels. He expressed interest in writing a fantasy novel when he finished his thru-hike. I said something to the effect of
“Huh, it must be hard finding your own voice, your own niche that makes you different from everyone else in such a crowded genre!”
His response threw me for a loop, when he said something like
“Why would I want to do that? Publishers are only going to pick up stories that hit current market trends, the goal isn’t to be novel or different, it’s to meet what people want to read.”
I didn’t know how to respond in a way that would be… diplomatic so I just let that thread die out there. No use arguing with a stranger in the middle of the woods. I couldn’t help but pity him, though. The goal of art, of creation, isn’t mass appeal or to give the people what you want, it’s to successfully express yourself, your thoughts, your concepts, in the most effective way possible. People don’t know what they want most of the time until they have it, how can you crave flavors you’ve never tasted? He didn’t want to write a fantasy novel because he had some great idea brewing, he just thought he could do well. There’s some societal commentary there.
I thought about that interaction as I’ve been messing around with the XT2 (see, that setup did pay off). I upgraded to it for a smaller profile, tactile controls, weather-sealing, Fuji’s color science, and knowing in the future if I change bodies for whatever reason, I’ll now already be in the lens ecosystem. It’s not the newest, it doesn’t have the most megapixels, it doesn’t have all the film presets, but I don’t really care. I’ve found when I’ve gone to edit my photos, though, a new thought has arisen: do the pics look Fuji enough? That is, there’s a certain look a lot of the trendy Fuji photographers out there all sort of have, like they saw the color grading in last years Asteroid City and said “yeah, that.” I know consciously it’s a dumb, trend-chasing thought. Not to disparage those photographers, I enjoy those photos and I enjoy Asteroid City but it’s not summer in the southwest it’s near-winter in Richmond. No bright pastels for me.
At the same time, is that what people expect? Am I shooting myself in the foot for future by taking photos and editing the way I want? For writing the way I want? For dressing, acting, and expressing myself, not just the way I want, but the way I am? Maybe – but – I’m making sure wherever I am, whatever I’m doing, I’m still me. Bills trump most other factors in life, but I would gladly take a life filled with living than a life filled with money. If I can have my cake and eat it too, I will, let’s not be damned idiotic about it. If I live my life on the terms of everyone but mine, am I successful?
Still, the doubt lingers. Again, I know when to play the hand I’m dealt, when to know I don’t need to be right, when to try things a new way, it’s the only way we can learn and grow. Still, the doubt lingers, because while I know these things, is it still enough? Still, my stubbornness lingers. This whole doubting cycle comes and goes, but this time Yvon Chouniard of all people broke me out of it. I recently picked up the book Unexpected: A Retrospective of Patagonia’s Outdoor Photography, and in it there’s this one bit about the reception Patagonia received when they published that famous photo of somebody chugging a beer while free soloing. While some folks loved it, there was a sizable group that… didn’t. Their phone lines were inundated with angry customers threatening to pull their catalog subscriptions if Patagonia didn’t make an apology, and when Yvon was asked how to respond, he simply replied “We’ll be glad to take them off the mailing list. We don’t want anyone humorless wearing our clothes.” Damn right, Yvon.
Life is a set of decisions with a foregone conclusion. No use wasting that time pretending you’re someone else. I might be an acquired taste, but I’d rather be surrounded by, collaborate with, and be enjoyed by folks who like me, not some means tested facsimile.
These first three posts have admittedly felt a bit similar to me – each has their own distinct theme, but I swear these posts won’t just be soap boxing about my place in the world. I have some fun trips coming up which will all warrant their own blog posts, and maybe series of posts depending on what goes on. I want this to be pretty wide-ranging, from more personal posts like this, to travel blogging, to different hot takes on eclectic subject matters all with a central core of exploring our relationship with ourselves and the outdoors. I don’t ever want this to be one of those “Top 10 _” or ” The Best _ of 20XX” blogs, but I might have the occasional review or retrospective on something if it compels me and seems vaguely relevant. We’ll see.
Christmas is in a few days. I’ve been working a lot, and I’m thinking some sort of piece on consumerism and the outdoors might be up next on the slate. If I get asked what temperature rating a jacket has one more time, I’m going to straight up be incredibly annoyed, but professional. Cheers!