I used to worry I was a one-trick pony. I worried that I kept taking the same picture over and over again. I'd scroll through my images and think, Didn't I already do this one? Same mood, same angle, same something I couldn’t quite pick out. It started to feel less like a style and more like being stuck.
One day I mentioned this to another photographer. He shrugged and said, "Every photographer only really has three pictures in them. Every musician has three songs. The goal isn’t to do everything. It’s to find your three—and do them better each time."
At first I didn’t like it and frankly, was a little frustrated with his theory. Three? That’s all I get? It felt like a kind of surrender or maybe a bit like giving up. But the more I thought about it, the more it started to feel like maybe that fellow was on to something. I started to think, maybe this isn’t a limitation, but a kind of freedom. A chance to stop flailing, stop chasing the new just because it’s new.
Maybe it’s not about branching out in all directions. Maybe it’s about going deeper in the direction you were always headed, the direction that always feels right or natural, or the place you want to be.
Once I landed there, on that way of thinking about it, I thought, there’s something hopeful in this idea. Something honest, it seems.
So, here’s one of those images I just keep taking. I keep taking photos through windshields. Windows streaked with rain or dust or early morning light, looking out or looking in, mostly looking out. I’ve taken this picture a hundred times, maybe a thousand times on roads near my house or 500 miles away. And this time, I think, it worked.