Kill your darlings
I deleted 24 series from my website. It just had to be. I needed space for new creativity, and just as food has an expiration date, so do my photos. At some point they are no longer good. Not good enough anymore. Or I don't feel comfortable with them anymore.
Every month my calendar says that I should delete old series from my website. I wrote it on the calendar myself. And when the deadline is up, I'd rather move it ahead another month. The series have grown too dear to my heart. They're not that bad after all. They'll be fine for another month, I say to myself.
The better it feels when I've made it. When I've actually cleaned up again. And managed to part with series that really meant something to me.
For example Eye Candy. I was in Paris in a 12sqm small hotel room. Actually impossible to take photos there. But Mia was so incredibly beautiful. Her eyes lit up and we managed to get beautiful images.
Or Jomo, joy of missing out. Well-being without social media. Just turn off the cell phone. I have great memories from taking these photographs.
My sandbox with Terez acrobatically in the dunes of Fuerteventura. She was wearing her mother's pajamas when we were driving to the location. We had a good laugh. And I could spend a long time wandering in memories and would have something special to tell about each series.
But over is over.
Nobel laureate in literature William Faulkner once said:
In writing, you must kill all your darlings.
It means that you should separate yourself from the things in your story that are dear to your heart but don't add anything to the story. I take that to heart when I put my series together. And now again when I view my entire portfolio as my story.
I admit, when you're in the kill your darlings state, it feels a bit like when Britney Spears had her head shaved. But what is it? It's liberating and you feel good afterwards.
Now I've created a first impulse and I feel like I'm one step further. I feel a small bit more free on my mind. Free for new creativity.
The muse can come and kiss me, now. Oh no, we know that it doesn't work that way, don't we? Because with the muse it's like with the cats, remember?