I don't mean to sound like a pessimist, but I just don't get it. Photography is obviously difficult to master. Gaining a skill in taking photos with perfect composition surely doesn't happen overnight. But every "good" photo I see almost always looks like a robot could have taken it—dare I take it a step further and say an AI could have generated it—and I wouldn't know the difference (of course this is hyperbolic but my point still stands)! A quick Google search would produce the same batch of photos over and over and over. I dread the monotonous experience of looking at pictures that shout "I'm beautiful!" but fail to be evocative. Is it so wrong to prioritize emotional depth in appreciating photography? I fear my standards are a bit too unusual for my skillset and experience. 

After all, I still get confused with the rule of thirds—so there goes my authority on giving opinions on the subject. Perhaps I should train my eyes further to broaden my perspectives on what constitutes as emotionally captivating. It is a standard I set for photography in general, so it makes sense that I keep proving why and how important it actually is in this practice. 

For now, I can't wait to find out what awaits me in MMS 173. Future (required) activities where I can finally apply techniques and compositions in photography might make my relationship with it more fruitful. As lazy and regressive as it sounds, without any upcoming deadlines, I do not feel pressured enough to hone my photography skills. (unfortunately, trying to impress myself is not a good enough reason </3) 

I wrote this short reflection a while ago just to have a little memento to come back to and ask myself, "has anything changed so far?" 

And the answer? No. 

I was surprisingly introspective coming into this class. I knew how twisted my views were on photography and I knew how badly I wanted a shift in perspective. I knew I wanted to do something about it and I knew I enrolled in MMS 173 for this very reason. While this semester, so far, is not close to being perfect, there are still good things that happened that I'm truly thankful for.  

For instance: the zoom sessions. Not to be overdramatic but God how I treasure those zoom sessions! Synchronous classes in UPOU are so so rare (understandably so) and, in the exact same magnitude, so so special. Admittedly, I attended the zoom sessions without studying the learning materials first (if you condemn me for this, I will happily yield) but still I enjoyed how everyone was actively participating and sharing their thoughts. Even though I'm hardly in the same skillset as the greatest photographers in class, I was still able to enjoy and keep up with the general pacing. It was heartwarming and inspiring to realize how welcoming and accessible the world of photography is. Anybody, regardless of equipment, experience, or style, can be a photographer. All we have to do is start somewhere.

This is why I think I'd be up for the challenge of matching the photography works of previous classes or even surpassing them. Everyone is different; I have no reason to spite where I currently stand and envy those above my skill level. If anything, I can learn from their experience and likely get inspired by their portfolio.  

And that's when I got it. 

(I think.)

There's a difference between seeing and looking. Seeing is what our eyes do automatically (aka a function of our eyes), looking is what we do in search of something. Our eyes allow us to see, but our brain makes us look. 

My problem is that I haven't been looking, only been limiting my eyes to its biological function: seeing. Palia is undeniably visually pleasing but not every corner of it is picture-worthy. Only when I climb on top of cliffs and watch the sky will I get a view so breathtaking I cannot help but take pictures. Only when I look up or tilt my head a little bit to the side will I see the mundane a little bit differently, a little bit more interestingly. Now, I bring the same mindset everytime I leave the house. I constantly look for opportunities to frame every sight into an imaginary composition. Sometimes I don't even take out my phone, I just mindlessly practice looking for compositions everywhere I go. 

As much as I want to talk about the intersection between MMS 170 and MMS 173 because it can help connect the dots a little bit more with how I value emotional depth and aesthetics in photography (and any other art form in general), 

it is a conversation for another time...