What is art to me?
This is a remarkably vital question. I have been a physician for over 34 years as of this writing.
What I carry into my art starts from the many years of observation I have practiced in medicine.
I bring years of observation and assessment into my art. I walk into the wilderness to see what is there. I stand to see what the land, light, and sky have to say to me. I interpret it as if I were sitting in front of someone.
Yet as I spend more time before a scene, the wilderness seems to ask something more than my medical experience can provide.
The first creative breakthrough is that I have to admit that I don't understand what the moment is asking of me. I come to admit that I do not know what the land is asking of me...or the sky...or the time of day or the light. Eventually I come to realize it is not asking anything, but instead telling me something...telling in the form a question.
Nature speaks below what I initially understand. It asks me to participate in the moment and capture what I see with my camera.
At some point I hear, "What does all this mean to you?" Often I don't hear it at the time of image capture, but I will in the studio. There I must interpret my work "artistically". That really means, "what does it mean to me?"
That's where my art leaves the world of documentation or reproduction or following someone else's work.
Art is completely about the artist. Regardless how much I want it to be more objective, it is in the end about me and what I see.