Photography Beyond the Image

Yo, what’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante.

Today I want to discuss photography and the intersection between philosophy, science, technicality, and almost treating photography as a way of being beyond the image, beyond the medium.

I’ve been photographing for over a decade now, and I’ve been thinking deeply about how photography is shaped by who you are as a person.

Your courage.

Your curiosity.

Your audacity.

Your intuition.

Your experiences.

All of these things combine to form the work that you make.

And so to get caught up in a singular frame, a photograph, or a way of operating as the “correct” way of photographing is going to limit your creative ability to break through.

I’ve been somebody who’s repeated the same practice consistently and dedicated myself to repetition endlessly. What I’ve learned through that journey is that repetition can help you make great work. It can help you make interesting photographs.

But if you actually want to elevate the work and go beyond what you’ve done before, you eventually have to break the rules.

You have to reconfigure the way that you think and feel about life itself.

Why Great Photography Can’t Be Rationalized

When you look at a photograph, a book, a zine, or a body of work, it’s very difficult to describe exactly what makes it great.

You know it when you see it.

You feel it.

It’s instinctual.

These days I can’t look at a frame and think:

“If I moved two feet to the left, this would have been better.”

Photography happens in the moment.

It’s done.

You can’t reverse it.

You can’t go back.

You can’t make up for it later.

Photography is a primal, physical act.

And that’s why I don’t think I can sit here and give you five tips for making a great photograph.

You can execute all the tips.

You can follow all the rules.

And most likely you’ll arrive at mediocrity.

Because you’re approaching the medium through rationalization.

You cannot rationally understand why something is good.

Eventually you have to go outside and do the thing.

The Science of Photography

This is where I’m interested in the science and mechanics of photography.

Think about it.

As photographers, what are we actually in control of?

We can:

• Walk.
• Observe.
• Show up.
• Carry a camera.
• Be present.

That’s about it.

We’re not in control of whether something interesting appears.

We’re not in control of whether we make a great photograph today.

The only thing we’re truly in control of is whether or not we put ourselves in a position where photography can happen.

And I think what leads so many people toward average photography is the endless decision-making.

What camera?

What lens?

What preset?

What story?

What project?

What style?

All of this complexity gets in the way.

The more decisions you remove, the more exciting photography becomes.

Removing Complexity

Lately I’ve been finding joy by stripping photography down to its essentials.

JPEG.

Automatic mode.

Compact camera.

Not looking at the screen.

Sometimes shooting almost blindly.

Allowing surprise and serendipity to guide the process.

Because ultimately:

We control our response. We do not control the miracle.

We can move our body.

We can press the shutter.

But we cannot force greatness.

And that’s why mindset matters more than knowledge.

Whether or not you wake up with vitality and energy is more important than how many photo books you’ve read.

More important than photographic history.

More important than your visual references.

The real juice is in play.

The real juice is in throwing yourself into the unknown.

Photography as a Way of Being

Photography has become integrated with my life.

Not as a creative pursuit.

Not as a career.

But as a way of being.

I’m completely detached from the outcome.

I’ve been photographing in black and white for years using the same process.

I’ve shared photographs chronologically, cycling through random days from years ago.

What fascinates me is my complete detachment from the image.

I’m not worried about whether you think the photographs are good.

I’m not thinking about an audience.

I’m not looking for applause.

I’m simply embracing the process.

I’m surrendering to the medium.

Surrendering Control

For me, surrendering to photography means relinquishing control.

I don’t go outside looking for anything.

I don’t chase photographs.

I don’t think about what I’m trying to make.

I simply follow intuition.

That intuitive force is difficult to explain.

You get sparks.

Ideas.

Instincts.

Something tells you to turn left.

To walk down a certain street.

To keep moving.

And when you obey that feeling, that’s where the magic happens.

Disconnect From Contemporary Noise

Honestly, one of the best things photographers can do is disconnect.

The contemporary photography world often becomes an endless loop of the same conversations.

The same ideas.

The same opinions.

The same debates.

Instead:

Go to the park.

Look at the leaves.

Look at how everything connects.

Read ancient texts.

Read the Bible.

Read the Quran.

Read the Bhagavad Gita.

Read the Tao Te Ching.

Read something that has survived thousands of years.

Because these sources point toward deeper truths than another podcast discussing cameras and composition.

Those distractions often pull us away from the thing that matters most:

Making photographs.

Extreme Constraints Create Freedom

One thing that excites me is systematization.

Today I might walk a single street and photograph only what appears on that street.

I might geotag everything.

Timestamp everything.

Sequence everything chronologically.

I follow constraints.

And through extreme constraints I find freedom.

It’s almost like a video game.

You’re grinding.

Leveling up.

Experimenting.

Finding glitches.

Breaking systems.

Creating your own rules.

And through those constraints, creative breakthroughs emerge.

The Tokyo Revelation

One of those breakthroughs happened in Tokyo.

I started using crop mode on my camera.

For me, it felt radical.

Suddenly I was making these strange, aggressive crops of faces and light.

And that shift led to a creative flourishing.

Not because it was technically correct.

But because it was a mistake.

An experiment.

A rule broken.

And that’s where growth lives.

Beyond Photography

At this point, photography is no longer about making photographs.

It’s about feeling alive.

It’s about noticing.

Observing light.

Observing people.

Being present.

Feeling connected to existence itself.

Because when you’re stuck inside all day staring at screens, something slowly dies.

But when you’re outside moving your body, paying attention, photography places you beyond the passage of time.

And that’s where peace is found.

That’s where God is found.

That’s where connectedness lives.

When you’re in that state, photography becomes effortless.

It flows through you.

You don’t force it.

You don’t try.

You simply respond.

The Final Message

The photography stuff?

Throw most of it out the window.

The real question is:

Are you courageous?

Are you curious?

Do you trust your intuition?

Do you have a spirit that’s carrying you forward?

Those are the things that matter.

I don’t praise galleries.

I don’t praise awards.

I don’t praise the contemporary scene.

I praise courage.

I praise curiosity.

I praise the willingness to experience life deeply.

Because that’s what ultimately creates meaningful work.

Let go.

Carve your own path.

Make what you want to make.

Do only what feels true to you.

Photography is not about proving that you’re great.

It’s about being vulnerable enough to share your experience of being human.

We’re all imperfect.

We’re all stumbling through life.

We all bleed.

We all suffer.

We all die.

And maybe through photography, through vulnerability, through sharing what we’re seeing and feeling, we can inspire somebody else to wake up.

To see clearly.

To feel deeply.

And to fall in love with their everyday existence.

Peace.