Lessons in the Unexpected

I planned for this photo project to be about baking a delicious herb and cheese bread from scratch.

Instead, it became about this one moment—it was fleeting and almost an afterthought. But I do remember when I took the photo. I know what I was thinking when I set the scene; I know the emotion and story I was trying to tell.

As I culled through my photos, passing by raw dough, chopped herbs, and the mess of ingredients strewn across the dining table, the photo that stopped me was an empty chair with an apron draped off the side.

This image spoke to me more than any other.

I stepped away from my screen in frustration and confusion, not wanting to look at the wall of photos in Lightroom anymore. I spent the better part of five hours preparing this bread and carefully photographing each moment—desperately avoiding getting flour on my camera. Was it all a waste? Why didn’t any of it speak to me, except for the empty chair?

After some much needed self-reflection, I finally understood the lessons I had just taught myself.

First, not every photo project is going to go exactly the way I plan (a nice little reminder).

Second, (and equally important), the empty chair with the apron draped off the side spoke to me because it had a narrative rooted in the vision. There’s a story and energy that I was trying to capture at that moment, and I did.

The narrative I build around my photographs fuels my creativity.

The other images I took were beautiful and tasty-looking food photography. I walked away from my computer in the editing process, because I was facing the problem of photographing beauty for the sake of beauty when I wanted something more.

With that, I leave you with ‘A Lesson’.

‘A Lesson’ by Stephanie Snyder documented on Sony a7iii.