Death Valley is a place like no other I know. Vast, harsh, surprising, intense, beautiful, serene – these are some common descriptors which spring to mind whenever I think back on time spent in the park. Perhaps one more: inspiring. I find few photographic locations as visually interesting and exciting as Death Valley. It has this wonderful ability to unleash a fresh way of seeing, even at locations I assumed were too well worn and familiar to feel moved by anymore. This is because Death Valley is a giver. Wherever I look potential images seem to lurk. Kid, meet candy store. The park has been a part of my life for over a decade and I manage to finagle a visit about once each year. Over these years Death Valley has come to act as a giant reflection pool. The year-long intervals between visits allows just enough time to pass for any progress in my work to become noticeable. This is reason enough to continue making the annual pilgrimage to this incredible slice of Earth.
Visits to Death Valley have a way of taking on a familiar rhythm. At some point beforehand an uneasy feeling creeps into the space between my lungs and stomach. Maybe I won’t encounter any images I find personally intriguing? Maybe I don’t have anything else to say about this park? Will new images be mere variations on ones already in my portfolio? Is returning here yet again the best use of my time? This questioning often makes the first day in the park feel slow, even labored. Death Valley is a dry, rugged, open, even unforgiving landscape, a world removed from the wet overgrown forests and rugged coastlines found in my Oregon home. I often feel out of sorts at first, even overwhelmed.
These thoughts and feelings are signs of creative doubt, a part-time companion of mine. During nearly two decades as a photographer experience has led to a few hard-won bits of wisdom, one being the understanding that “creative doubt” is not just driven by a crisis of confidence in one’s skills, knowledge, and abilities. For me, the largest driver of creative doubt is simply the fear of complacency, a fear of being satisfied by the impersonal production of yet one more pretty picture of an amazing landscape, even if it’s well composed, executed, and processed. This complacency signifies a loss of voice, a clear sign there may be little else to say as a photographer, an idea I find disconcerting. The day I accept complacency is the day I stop growing as a photographer, or perhaps more accurately, the day I stop striving to grow.
So how do I respond whenever creative doubt creeps in? For one, I do my best to make peace with it. I acknowledge its presence then recognize doubt for what it is: a natural part of the creative life. Every artist periodically wrestles with this exact beast. Knowing this I allow space for it to exist. I live with it for awhile and examine its function a bit more closely. Spending time with doubt, as opposed to forcibly attempting to deny it and suppress it into non-existence, does one thing very well: it takes away its power to generate pressure. It’s this pressure which clogs up the creative machinery, stifles my instincts, closes me down, and prevents me from moving into the optimal mindset for creativity. Creative doubt is a mindset issue more than anything else, and this is good news as it means I hold some degree of control over it. It’s just up to me to view it in the proper context. Pressure? Why be pressured?
On the occasions I do manage to pop doubt’s pressure release valve, ideas begin to naturally trickle in at some point during that first day. A first image appears, then another, and then another. Soon a bit of momentum develops and image ideas begin to flow more free. I notice I’m more open and receptive and doubt recedes into a thing of the past. Of course this doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll walk away with a basketful of worthy image. All it means is I’ve allowed myself to struggle and, in the process, managed to collect a few breadcrumbs of ideas and concepts to sniff out during the rest of trip. Maybe they’ll work, maybe they won’t. And I have to be okay with that. Productive struggle is an essential part of growth.
So in some strange way there is reason to owe creative doubt a small debt of gratitude. It provides an edge of uncertainty which helps keep my photography fresh, challenging, fulfilling, and, ultimately, moving forward.
The images within this gallery were all taken during the first part of 2023. I visited Death Valley National Park on two occasions, spending a total of eight days photographing the park’s remarkable dunes, canyons, badlands, mountains, and salt flats. Each visit had its own unique feel. I photographed some old haunts as well as some new locations further afield. This collection is heavy on work from the dune fields. Taking a deeper dive into dune photography is something I had wanted to do for a while. It was nice to have an opportunity to do so at last. During these two trips I made about eight total trips into the dunes looking for bits of converging interests to photograph. I hope you enjoy the results!
Lastly, I want to thank the people who helped make these trips memorable: Adrian Klein, Paul Bowman, Jeremy Cram, and Dustin Gent, as well as photography friends I was able to visit with while they were on their own journeys to this remarkable natural area.
