Vision begins with light entering the eye. The lens of the eye changes its curvature to focus on images of subjects at different distances. The iris, the colored part of the eye, functions like an aperture diaphragm, narrowing in bright light and widening in dim light. The pupil is the aperture through which light enters the eye. The eye itself does not see it only forms images of light and through electrical coding transmits those images to the brain.

What we see and how we see, is not strictly a matter of physiological responses. Some visual nerve cells may have memory that respond to certain lines and shapes previously seen. Other responses are determined by past experiences and knowledge of size, shape and distance. And the very things we see depend in large part on our emotions. As such a hungry person sees the sign of a restaurant, the person late for an appointment sees a clock, and a tired person may not actually see, but only maneuver through traffic. The brain practically never responds to every part of the image formed on the retina, but at that specific moment selects the most important ones. To attend to every image on the retina would be exhausting.

In my opinion the real problem with seeing is that it is so easy and natural that we hardly ever give it a second thought. We look and we see. What could be simpler? But behind this simple act lays a profound process that effects how we act, think, learn, and how we take photographs.

We were taught how to see early in life. And what we learned would help us survive. We learned how to look in order to recognize our parents faces; we learned how to avoid speeding cars and how to get downstairs in one piece. We did not learn how to watch in order to help us take photographs.

At first we paid attention to everything we saw because everything was new and interesting. Then we learned how to ignore. After the first five years of life, we started ignoring more than what we saw, and our seeing became casual and uneventful. Our ways of seeing were set.

Sometime later in life certain people start picking up cameras and begin taking photographs. What do we take pictures of? We photograph what appeals to our habits of casual seeing. We photograph things we consider as ought to be photographed because we’ve seen similar pictures in books or magazines. And our results are not works of art but snapshots caught by an eye not yet aesthetically trained; an eye not yet in tune with the camera.

Seldom does a photograph succeed due to unusual technique or exotic equipment. It succeeds for one reason and one reason only: because the image was well seen!

I was blessed that I had the chance to travel around the word for little over two years at the age of twenty, backpacking on a low budget. During that time I took thousands and thousands of pictures with my eyes only. It taught me how to overcome the habit of ordinary seeing and showed me how I unconsciously altered my way of seeing. Besides this my life experience also enables me to see things I only can.

To actually see a scene you might think you only need to look at it. But it’s not that simple. One scene can be viewed in many ways, and if you look at it in only one way, you might miss a great deal. I try not to fixate on one object. I think that besides life experiences my profession as an attorney also let me overcome the tendency to see only individual objects. I taught myself to not only see the objects, but also the relationship between those objects; how changing the viewpoint changes the relative positions of the objects. Watchful seeing can be tiring, but very rewarding. I came to appreciate the beauty of things previously overlooked and marvel at the new relationships I discover.

Through this appreciation and wonder I gained enormous joy in photography. Even if a photograph does not always capture the emotion or beauty I felt at that particular moment, I considering myself grateful for the feeling and memory of that special moment in time.

Although varying your way of looking is important, it is not the most important part of seeing. The most important part of seeing and perhaps the most important part of photography, a part most unappreciated, seldom mentioned, and greatly underrated, is the art of searching. Photographs don’t just happen. The photographer must look, find, shape, and have a camera at hand. I myself almost always have a camera at hand. I often carry the load without using it. Similar to the searching part, I can be on the road or walk for hours on end, enjoying every minute without taking a single shot.

Remarkable photography does not need to entail complexity. Sometimes simplicity can be just as powerful. Not only for its mood, which is strong. Not only for its design, which is compelling. But also for what it doesn’t show.

Dangerous is when a photographer goes out with a picture already in mind. While you are thinking about what you wish to happen, you are likely to miss out on what is actually happening.

Have subjects in mind, but keep your options open at all times. You might come across something totally unexpected. For me the art of seeing is an ongoing process and I am blessed with the personal part of it: when making art I don’t really take into consideration what someone else may think about the creation.

In my opinion art principally is a personal experience based on the exposure of the truth and beauty of that experience. It doesn’t matter what the theme, medium, technique or form applied is.

Capturing a particular personal moment on camera is a matter of a split second. Usually there is no second chance to capture that moment or experience. To me photography is the art of seeing, the art of searching, and it involves being clever with time.

The birth given capability to see doesn’t guarantee any type of artwork. You cannot create experience. You must go through it!

Gerrit Scheper