In every fleeting moment when a stranger "enters" my frame and I instinctively shift the camera away, I deliberately avoid capturing that unique 1/125th of a second belonging to unfamiliar faces. As a creator, it would be dishonest to say I’ve never felt regret. Yet I had never fully unpacked the reasons behind this impulse—until tonight, when I happened to realize, through someone else’s work, the nature of my current photographic bottleneck: I observe in silence, but rarely step into the frame.
Looking back, my photography has always indirectly reflected a certain apprehension toward people. I rarely shoot with strangers as the central subject. And even when I do, my perspective tends to be that of a detached onlooker—zooming in from ten meters away, hesitant, as if caught in the act of something furtive.
I can trace the root of this hesitation: it’s not just about being noticed, but the possibility that being noticed might lead to misunderstanding—and thus, unwanted interaction. This thought spirals quickly, and I find myself trapped in a loop between two ethical sinkholes: the desire to capture fleeting moments versus the anxiety of potentially violating someone’s image rights. Before I can reach any real conclusion, I retreat.
But this barrier is one I erected myself—preemptively, even before gaining experience. I’m aware of it, but I’ve avoided confronting it. It’s similar to how I understand that the world is a grand stage, yet when I try to act within it, I can’t help but fixate on how others might perceive me. Still, reflection is always a start. Even if I haven’t found a clear solution, at least I now understand the why.
What I can do next is learn from the more outgoing friends around me—observe how they interact with strangers. I can read interviews with humanist photographers, study how they view their subjects and navigate communication. And I can continue watching photography documentaries—like The Genius of Photography or Paper Movies, which have inspired me in the past—to deepen my understanding of what photography truly means.
在每个陌生人“闯入”镜头，而下意识挪开相机的瞬间，我总是刻意回避去记录，这独属于生面孔的1/125秒。作为艺术创作者，说不遗憾很虚伪，但过去我也没仔细剖析过。但很幸运地在这个夜晚，我无意间透过他人的作品，意识到了当下我的摄影瓶颈——只是沉默观察而非走进画面之中。
细想，我的摄影其实间接反映了对人的胆怯，以至于我很少以陌生人为主体进行拍摄。就算有，视角也仿佛冷漠的旁观者——在十米开外的地方，才敢将镜头转动变焦，颇有种做贼心虚的味道在里边。
我能察觉到这胆怯感的来源，怕被注意，更多是怕被注意而引起的不必要误会，而使我不得不与人交流。这想法太发散，可我的意识矛盾，总在“捕捉瞬息”与“可能会侵犯的肖像权”两个树洞外反复徘徊，最后在快要触及某个结果前，临阵脱逃消失了踪影。
洞的屏障其实是我自己在还没经验前就设下的，我明白却逃避思考。就像我明白世界是个巨大的草班台子，但身处其中想要做出某些行为时，仍不由自主思考他者的想法一般。不过有了反思总是好的，就算当前确切的解决方法还想不到，起码知道原因了。现在能做的就是多跟身边外向的朋友们取经，尝试跟陌生人有交流；阅读一些人文类摄影师的采访，了解他们的看法以及如何和被摄者沟通；同时看一些摄影纪录片（之前看THE GENIUS OF PHOTOGRAPHY, PAPER MOVIES确实有得到一些启发），更深入的思考何为摄影。