I’ve been pretty frustrated lately.  I’ve gone to shooting locations and left feeling uninspired.  I’ve dug into unedited images and become overwhelmed deciding what to do with them.   This week in particular, I’ve been frustrated trying to get mailchimp and squarespace to play nice together. I want to pull my hair out and scream.

But then I stop to remind myself that frustration is a good thing.  Frustration leads to growth.  We become frustrated when we don’t know how to do something, or when things we think we know how to do don’t work out.  Frustration is a sign that we are pushing ourselves to do better.   To learn something new, or to bring a new way of seeing to something old.  It takes persistence and effort to succeed, along with a measure of hope and an appropriate bit of self-confidence.  Breakthroughs will come.  They may be large or they may be small, but they always seem to arrive when you least expect it.  So I am trying to be okay with being uncomfortable, and to be open to see where that leads.

A few weeks back, I grabbed my camera and headed out the door with no destination in mind.  It had started to rain, not hard.  I thought I would just drive around a bit and see what there was to see.  As the rain picked up, I became less and less motivated to actually stop and get out of the car and make a photograph.  When I did force myself to pull over, the images I made were boring and uninspired.  I was getting frustrated.  As I was driving aimlessly along the eastern shore of Tomales Bay I finally had had enough and pulled over to a dirt shoulder and parked.  I just sat there watching the rain, listening to the music play on the radio, wondering why I was there and what I was going to do.

The rain began falling harder, jumping off the windshield and the bay waters beyond.  A steady backbeat to the day.  As I sat there, staring out at the bay, I began to relax.  To open my eyes and look. 

I took out my camera and began to play.  I focused on the rain drops on the windshield.  I focused on the angry waters of the bay.  I gently moved the camera around, seeking hidden forms, following the light.  I let the lens dance along to the rhythm of a boat at anchor, bouncing off the waves.  Though I never got out of the car, I found an outlet for my frustration.

I look at the images and remind myself. To stay with whatever is frustrating me. To figure out a way through. To breathe, to relax. To be open to what comes next.

Now it’s back to fighting with mailchimp and squarespace. Wish me luck. I am going to need it.