I’m just home from my book signing, where I was surrounded by lots of friends, who came for support, and my mum came through too. It felt like a nice friend/family affair, and my talk went really well. I was asked my young Lucas (age 9, I think), if I intend to fall off a waterfall or crack into the ice on one of my ventures. I told him – yes, I expect it will happen some day (probably soon!).

I’d just like to say how nice it was, tonight, to be surrounded by people who know me, and were there to support me. Thanks also, to those of you who have bought my book. It’s been quite a journey, and I didn’t plan any of it (being pro, doing a book, even making images).

I’m off to Norway this Thursday to shoot some of my own images for a week or so, and meet up with my Lofoten friends. I missed a flight during the summer and my friend Lilian sent me this email tonight to remind me to turn up at the airport this time on the right day:

Hi Bruce,

Just a short note to remind you to grab your bags and run to the airport on THURSDAY, THE 1st OF DECEMBER. This will eventually take you away, northeast from Scotland and to the country of the vikings or ‘norse men’. Keep following your flightplan and you will eventually (2nd of December) end up on a big rock out in the ocean where it smells of fish all year round, where there is plenty of crazy weather and where a bunch of really nice people are waiting for you.

Says it all. I’m really looking forward to it, and I’ll be there for a little while before Christmas.

I’d like to wish you all good plans for Christmas, and the coming festive season.

Once again, thanks so much for the kind words, encouragement, and the beautiful sentiments I’ve received over the past year.

Just a wee reminder about my book signing and launch in a week’s time – 28th of November at the McDonald Road Library (just off Leith Walk), Edinburgh. 6:30pm to 8pm. There will be a talk by myself from 7pm to 7:30pm, and of course, a chance to talk to me and even buy a copy of the book and get it signed too!

Last night, on my way home from my Harris workshop, I had to drive through Skye and then through Glencoe. In an attempt to reduce the strain of the journey in my car, I listened to an hours debate about cinema, music and arts on BBC Radio 2. I found the review in many ways rather interesting, and in other ways, I couldn’t wait to find the reviewers and hit them over their heads for being…. reviewers.

The reason for this was the review of Kate Bush’s new album 50 words for snow, due for release on Monday, but for some reason, Amazon have delivered to my home this Friday. Last night, after the rather cack review of 50 words for snow, where the reviewers found the album dull and not as precent as some of Kate’s earlier work, I found myself listening to her new album and from the first song, being entirely drawn in, to a world of snow, snowflakes, and a landscape in my mind filled with deep tones of piano and mature vocals ushered by Kate. Yep, you can tell I love Kate’s new album.

I bring this up as a topic for discussion, because I find most of Kate Bush’s work takes a lot of time to appreciate. I find that her albums, particularly Ariel and the new one, seem to get better with every listen, and certainly, they become part of my life over several years, and seem to accompany me on many of my photographic journeys.

I don’t normally listen to reviews, or critics on TV or Radio. Often they lack objectivity. They should consider where the artist has been, where they’re going, and inform the public of how they feel their new work relates to what they’ve done in the past. Anything else is of little consequence, because art in general, needs time to be appreciated, understood, and find its place in our culture.

Surely this is the same as any art?

In the case of making photographs, some of my own have had to ‘earn’ their place in my own heart. Some were considered throw away efforts at the time, only to become ones that I now feel were pivotal in the direction I took in what I was doing, or maybe I feel they showed me a new door in my efforts. Some are appreciated over time, more for what they became through familiarity, rather than what I thought they should be (and failed to be) at the time of exposure.

Surely, if we are to be objective about what we do, we must give our art space to be what it is. Let it live, even as a failure? There have been plenty of pieces of art created that were considered uninteresting, average, or plain failures at the time they were created, but have, over time, become classics. Maybe this is more to do with era, and the change in tastes that happen over time. Some things fit ‘now’ and are instant hits, and will, as time progresses, become very dated, other art objects gain a slow appreciation, and others are discovered much later when the time is right for them to be appreciated.

If it were me, I wouldn’t have been so hasty with the review of Kate’s new album. I would give it a chance to show us just what it truly is.

Maybe we should all do that with our photographic efforts too?

Solas, North Uist, Outer Hebrides

Lastly, I’m a great believer in things happening when they choose to, and not when I want them to. There will always be another day for photography, and there will always be ‘just one more shot’ that you want to make. The photographer who is never satisfied, never able to ‘get everything’, is chasing a dream.

–

A few weeks ago, I released a new eBook about self-awareness. In it, I covered the biggest stumbling block in making good images – ourselves and our ‘issues’.

I’ve been thinking tonight, that I’m finding that after 10 years of intensive image making, I’m starting to just enjoy not using a camera, not going out specifically to make images. I’m wondering if it’s true, that as photographers, we start off with a desire to photograph everything. Most of us have very limited free time, so when we do have that free time, we use it to do as much photography as we can. I can certainly testify that some of my portfolios were made in very intensive 3-week vacation blasts (Iceland in 2004 for instance).

But I’ve become more patient as a photographer. I like to just wait until things happen and I’m faced with something that I find inspiring. I also love to take the pressure of, by simply leaving the camera behind, and just wonder around a location and enjoy it for what it is.

There’s something very enjoyable about looking at sand, and how the sand interacts with the sea, with a photographer’s eye, but with no picture in mind, and no camera at hand. Where once I would be frustrated and wish to have my camera with me to photograph these moments, I now relish just enjoying them as they happen. I think this is because I know that amazing moments happen all the time. I often read articles where photographers explain how something suddenly amazing happened. Well, these things happen all the time. So it’s very nice to just walk around and enjoy them.

I’m wondering if this intensity to make images is slowly ground down to a more relaxed attitude towards making new work. I feel no massive pressure to make new work, because I believe it happens when I least expect it to, and not when I command it. I also wonder that the things I loved about scenery to start with, before I owned a camera, are now overcoming the almost blinding desire to make images more than enjoy the scenery for what it is.

Maybe the ultimate act in photography, is to not photograph anything at all, but just recognise a moment, let it imprint itself onto your soul, for the briefest of moments, and enjoy it for what it is: a moment in life where we were conscious of what we saw and felt.

In a few weeks time, I’ll be back in Reine, Lofoten for around 11 days. The trip is really to catch up with friends and also, to spend some time photographing Lofoten in the winter months before the snow comes next year.

Reine - image © Vladimir Donkov, VerticalShot.com

I was chatting to my friend Vlad today and he emailed me this photo of Reine, Lofoten from a trip he did there recently. It was really nice to hear from him, and also to see a recent photograph of Reine. I feel as if it is a home from home.

As we were chatting, I remembered that Vlad also sent me this photograph of the Aurora, witnessed from our friends house in Reine. It happened just a few nights after I’d left to come home. Vlad was still there, and I couldn’t believe he’d seen the Aurora happen from the balcony of the house I’d just left.

Aurora above Reine - image © Vladimir Donkov, VerticalShot.com

Of course, there is no guarantee about seeing the Aurora, and any photographic workshop that promises it, is to be avoided. It is a rare thing, and you really need a lot of time, and luck, to see it.

If you would like to see some more of Vlad’s work (he’s a really lovely chap too – he has a bit of a deep soul to him), then please view his gallery. Vlad also has a facebook page, which you should check out too.

Many thanks to Vladimir Donkov for letting me use his photographs, while I have no new ones to present.

Well, I had to put a nice little intro together, but the title of this post says it all. The book arrived today and the morning started with a wee celebration in the form of some Swiss chocolate sent to me from a deal Swiss friend, to celebrate the release of my book. The chocolate boxes had pictures of the book and ‘art of adventure’ stamped all over them, so it made me laugh quite a bit.

I’ve got a bit of bubbly to take into my office today too.

I’ll be spending today packing the advanced orders and inundating the post-office with them. They did say that if I left them with them, they would process them in their own good time, but I’m wondering how long it will take them?

There will be a book launch and signing this 28th of November at the McDonald Road library along with a 30 minute talk by myself about the making of some of the images contained within the book.

If you’re intending on coming along to the book launch to buy a book, please do drop us a line and we can reserve a copy of the book for you.

If you can’t make it to the launch, but would like a copy of the book, please go to the Half-Light Press website for more information.

Unfortunately, due to ill health, one of the participants for my Patagonia safari next year, will not be able to make it.

Lago Pehoe, Torres del Paine, Chile

So I now have one freed up space for this Safari, and it’s first come first served, so if you see this, and had been hoping to come along – now’s the time to jump straight in and book it here.

I’m pleased to let you know about a new eBook I’ve just released.

Ever since I started to conduct photographic workshops, I’ve learned an awful lot about myself as a photographer. I’m sure for many of you, that might be a surprise, as you probably thought that workshops are all about the participants and how to improve their photography (they are). But in the process of working with others, I’ve often had to think about why I do certain things when I’m making images.

new eBook

I’m not talking about technical aspects, such as what shutter speed or which aperture I chose for a particular image, but more about how I responded to a landscape the way I did, why I chose one composition over another, and perhaps more importantly, my general approach to all things creative.

We are creative people, and creative types tend to work based on feelings and intuitions they have about the work they’re creating. I tend to have a lot of philosophical ideas about why I create my own work the way I do. And how I tend to respond to failure for instance. I’m highly objective about what I do, but I also allow myself to open up to what is presented to me.

So in this new eBook, I continue the themes set about in the ‘Taj Mahal – a photographer’s approach’, and ‘Lofoten – a photographer’s approach’, ebooks. Both of these eBooks discussed lots of ideas about how I tackle a project and how receptive I am to new ideas. In short – how I find images and how I work with the landscape.

The Art of Self awareness, a rather grand title, really tries to distill the idea that good photography lies in your own hands, and by having a clearer picture of who you are, and how you respond to your environment (or not, as the case may be), your photographic efforts may succeed or fail.

Here is a breakdown of the chapters contained within:

Contents

Bruce Percy 3
About the author

The Art of Self-Awareness 4
A better photographic approach

Iceland 6
A learning experience

Self Awareness 7
The art of looking inside in order to see outside

Re-evaluation 8
Do you take time to look back at your progress?

Failure as a gift 9
How do you react to your failures?

Organised Process 10
Do you dither and fuss?

Temperament 11
Are you impatient?

Conversation 12
Do you have a dialogue with the landscape?

Submission 13
Do you submit to the landscape?

Response 14
How do you feel when making images?

Narrow field of vision 15
Do you narrow your view to one thing?

Tuning in 16
Do you have a good sense of anticipation?

The devil is in the detail 17
Do you notice subtle changes in light, shade and tone?

Energy levels 18
How do you react when you’re tired?

Objectivity 19
Are you realistic?

Over-analysis 20
Do you over analyse?

Control freak 21
Do you fear your own creativity?

Never happy 22
Do you seek perfection or excellence?

Awareness studies 23

Well, that’s quite a bit of thought provoking material there! Yes, it’s taken me a while to work on this one, and I’m sure it’s only really the beginning. But I grew tired of ‘technical’ websites years ago, and I never read any books about cameras or lenses these days. I’m much more interested in how we tick, what makes us the way we are.

My new ebook is available now, from my store.

Dear All,

In conjunction with Beyond Words Photographic Book shop, I’m pleased to let you all know, that there will be a Book launch, held at the Mcdonald Library (Mcdonald Road, just off Leith Walk, Edinburgh) on Monday the 28th of November from 6:30 to 8pm.

There will be a talk, given by myself, about some of the images from the book from 7pm to 7:30pm.

From 7:30pm to 8pm, there will be a chance to buy a copy of the book, and have it signed by myself. There are no credit card facilities, so if you fancy a copy of the book, please bring cash or cheque book. Cost of the basic edition is £40.

If you would like to attend, then I’m pleased to let you know that attendance is free.

Please circulate this to anyone you think may be interested. The hall has enough space for up to 80 people.

The past few weeks have been really hectic for me. I’m the kind of person that needs a lot of space around me, in all shapes and forms. That means that not only do I need a lot of solitude, I also need to have a schedule which allows me time on my own.

Image © Sonja Grubenmann

So I have to say, that the past few years have been a real challenge to me. As my workshop participant and friend Sam Blair said to me after a workshop on the isle of Eigg ‘don’t forget to take some time to recharge your own batteries. Put the camera down for 30-60 days, ride a bike across Scotland, train for a 10K, volunteer, prepare an outline for your book, whatever the hell it might be. We all need to recharge, particularly creative people’

I admit to that. I’m a social person (so the workshops are great fun), but I also need time to recharge, time to get enthusiastic about the future, time to get enthused about something.

So this week I’m home, and I haven’t been anywhere near my office, because, quite frankly, I can’t face it. I’ve not had a day or so to just be on my own, with time to absorb what I’ve witnessed over the past few weeks, and that has been quite remarkable.

Last week I was in Switzerland, and while I was there, I spent two mornings at viewpoints looking towards the Matterhorn.

Matterhorn @ Sunrise

The Matterhorn, has for me, always been a symbol of what an iconic mountain should look like. Paramount Pictures based their icon, i’m convinced, on the Matterhorn*. Maybe you can correct me, but I think the Paramount Pictures image is of no particular mountain, but what they consider an ‘iconic mountain shape’.

Anyway, my good friend Sonja sent me this photo today of me sitting on a ledge, looking out towards the Matterhorn. I must say I was surprised at how small the mountain seemed. Scale, size, are all banished when looking at an object of massive proportions from a distance. It was hard to get a grasp on how big the mountain is. Maybe this is a symbolic reference, and something I should take heed of.

Sometimes, the things we do, the chance encounter, the people we meet, the passing conversation, or the images we capture, all have a meaning, much more powerful than we can grasp at the time of the exchange. We often don’t have a sense of scale, of importance to current events, until we’re at a distance, so that we can apply some form of enlightenment, otherwise known as hindsight.

* Wikipedia (a very reliable source, not), has this to say about the Paramount Pictures Mountain “According to some sources, the Paramount Pictures logo, known as Majestic Mountain, was modeled after Mount Ben Lomond. It is said that William W. Hodkinson, the founder of Paramount and a native of the Ogden area, initially drew the image on a napkin during a meeting in 1914″.

Personally, I do find it interesting, the idea of an icon, and of objects, people, ideas, becoming more than what they are. Paramount pictures mountain, for me, has always symbolised what the perfect mountain should be. I believe, with all my heart, that the Matterhorn is as close to that ideology as anything could be.