Issue No. 8: Amateur Hour
I hope we can all soon let go of the shame and rush to distance ourselves from being called an “amateur”. Even as the person telling you that it’s not only okay, but encouraged to claim your amateur status - that nothing is more exhilarating than finding something new to love and giving yourself a chance with it - I struggle with being called an amateur, especially because I know how some people mean it. It's the people who mumble it under their breath as if you are small yet somehow taking up too much space. Well, that person is a graceless cow, and this newsletter is an attempt to strengthen my own definition of amateur and get comfortable inside this title.
If you've never read Ernest Hemingway's aggressively testosteroned bullfighting novel The Sun Also Rises, there is a much conversation about the distinct divide between those who could only enjoy bullfighting without ever truly being touched by it and those who had the specific kind of ardent passion it takes to be considered an aficionado. “Aficion means passion.” says the narrator. “Somehow, it was taken for granted that an American could not have aficion. He might simulate it or confuse it with excitement, but he could not really have it.” However, when they saw that Jake had it, they put their hand on Jake’s shoulder and said, “Buen Hombre” (a very good man). Montoya, the narrator says, could forgive everything because Jake was an aficionado.” Everything forgiven. I see a lot of this - when someone has a talent, people that respect it will allow them to get away with pretty much anything else. “Sure that person is kind of a jerk but they're so talented” “Yeah they're a little arrogant but the talent”. It's a constant conversation of ethics - how much we are wiling to separate the art from the humanity of the artist. One some level I think many of us crave this - the trust and admiration of our peers if not the masses, based off of a handful of achievements. An uncomplicated but intense love. It's often at least a part of the incentive - aside from prestige & love of craft - to distance oneself from the title of amatuer.
Recently I joined in on a YouTube video as a guest of two photographer friends (@Ribsy_, @Sissi_lu) - both of whom have a larger audience and do much more content creation than me, they each have a significant web presence. Although I’ve been shooting for years, film is still new to me. Before the shoot I had to have this long talk with myself about how it’s okay if I struggle through this. I don’t need to be an overnight success at any of this. And the fact that I’m even committing to possibly (likely) putting my fear, frustration and potential failure out there to the public - alongside two celebrated artists no less, is a massive act of bravery. Or insanity I’m not sure yet. As I am rushing to finish up typing this newsletter the video has been published and although everything in me is screaming to keep a low profile and don’t share this - here's the link.
Before I left my apartment, camera in hand to take part in this video I told myself - if I embrace an amateur status, no one can shame me from mistakes. It was an identity I was not embracing, but hiding behind. In my research for this newsletter I came across this quote:
“Our modern perception of "amateur" suggests someone who does something poorly or with a lack of professionalism, but the Latin root of the word "amateur" is amor, someone who pursues a pastime out of love.”
When is the last time you did something new with your whole heart? When we reach aficionado status it is most often the unbridled enthusiasm of amateurs that keeps us from tipping over into bitterness and cynicism. It’s them who offer fresh perspective, ongoing support, intense curiosity and pump new life into this thing you may have already mastered. They/we are an important part of the direction and evolution of creativity.
I'll close out with a non-photography story. I'm far from a professional dancer, but I remember once I hit a certain level of salsa lessons my teacher would often say to us before social events “make sure to dance with the beginners”. It was understood that dancing with new students was not just a tool to get their skills up - it is an act of good will generosity of spirit to include someone who has gone out on a limb and risked hurting themselves (ego or bodily) and make them part of the community by allowing them access to you. To do so graciously and with enthusiasm is to strengthen not only that person's ability, but to help build the foundation of self-assurance needed to encourage them to keep at it. I remember once seeing someone say how they hate when they're having a good night and a beginner asks them to dance and how it's actually rude of them. To this day I still get angry about it because I find this statement not only arrogant - but intensely short-sighted and self-aggrandizing. I can't be sure where any of sharing and learning will ultimately lead me, but I hope to never abandon graciousness to amateurs. In fact, I hope I maintain a curiosity and passion for life that won't allow that sort of snobbish cynicism. I hope to be an amateur many times over in my lifetime.
Editor's Note: This newsletter comes to you from a ✨truly exhausted ✨ place. I've been running around like crazy but I'm happy to be sharing. Following is my favorite image taken during the filming of the video - you'll have to watch for the rest!
