As I pedaled around the lake yesterday, I noticed a family of six—mom, dad, and four children—walking together, hand in hand. They were all soaking in the day, but one child, the apparent middle one, stood out to me. While the other siblings seemed content and quiet, this one flailed her arms, with a huge smile, eager to catch my attention. It struck me how this simple moment captured something profound about personality.
From the moment we’re born, we all come with a basic set of traits—our temperament, our blueprint. But as we grow, these traits are shaped by our experiences, our environment, and our relationships. We become a more refined version of ourselves, each person a unique combination of nature and nurture.
Photography, for me, isn’t all that different. The way I see the world and capture it is influenced by my own blueprint, the core of who I am. But it’s also shaped by every place I’ve been, every emotion I’ve felt, and every moment that has left its mark on me.
We make a little too much of the nature part and not enough about the nurture part.
In my mind, it’s more about science, behavioralism, and chance than fate, karma, and divinity.
Just as that middle child’s personality stood out against the backdrop of their siblings, so does a photographer’s unique vision emerge from the mix of genetic traits and life experiences.
My photographs, and yours, are a reflection of my/our own journey—my/our instincts, my impulses, and the way I’ve/we’ve been shaped by everything around me/us.
While we might start with similar tools—a camera, an eye for light and shadow—it’s the sum of our experiences that makes our work distinctive. Just as genes provide a blueprint for traits, our lived experiences shape how those traits manifest in our art.
In both life and photography, it’s this dance between nature and nurture that creates something truly unique, something that no one else can replicate. It’s what makes my photography mine, and yours yours. We all see the world through our own lens, but it’s the layers of experience, the subtle shifts in perspective, that give our work its soul.
These photos are from Gerianger, Norway. As I look at them, I see clearly the delicate dance between nature and nurture.
Click
Jack
