Alan Parker Scheffer Photography

Many artists have a page on their website stating what they are working to accomplish with their art, their underlying philosophy. For several weeks I have been pondering my own such artist’s statement and have encountered a great deal of difficulty with it. Nothing seemed to come together. It didn’t feel comfortable. It didn’t seem to fit. But somewhere in the process some things fell into place for me that I thought might be worth sharing

At the heart of it, I love my photographic work.

By that I mean, firstly, that I love the process of taking pictures, getting out and capturing shapes and color in nature, watching people and trying to define meaningful moments in their lives. I also love the complex process of enhancing my photographs, trying to idenitify and bring out the essence of a scene, surfacing a potential interpretation of what the image captured.

But secondly, I also mean that I unabashedly love the products of my own work -- the pictures themselves. It is not uncommon that I will see a picture I have completed -- even one I created months or years before -- and be momentarily stunned by how it once again captures me. My business partner, who also loves the work, says that I have the annoying tendency, when looking at my own work, to remark "Ohh! That’s beautiful” and “Ahh, that’s great.” She reveals that, although she may agree with me, her Lutheran upbringing makes her feel that humility should prevent me from uttering such clear, obvious, and immodest expressions of enjoyment and valuing of my own art.

So I really do love my pictures, but strangely, I have come to realize that I take very little credit for them. Whatever value and skills are embedded in my work was, at some level, a shocking discover. It was similar to what I would imagine it would be like to discover that I could add the serial numbers on the boxcars of a passing train without error, or that I had perfect pitch, or that I could learn a variety of foreign languages without difficulty. At the simplest level I discovered that I had an affinity and enthusiasm for taking and enhancing pictures. I also realized much more than that. Quite accidentally I discovered that, with a camera in hand, the world made sense in a way that it did not otherwise. I discovered that, while taking pictures, I achieved a mindfulness that eluded me in almost all other situations. Looking through a camera awakened in me feelings of awe while simultaneously conferring a sense purpose and profound contentment. And I discovered, through the responsiveness and kind feedback of others, that, to no credit of my own, I apparently have an “eye.” Who knew?

Once having discovered these things, it quickly became apparent that whatever talent I have and whatever sensitivities I possess were placed in my life as a gift by the hand of some divine providence.

I truly believe that all human beings are the recipients of such gifts. Every person is endowed with his or her own unique gifts, talents, sensitivities, inspirations and capacities there to be discovered, experienced, and enjoyed. I believe this is what causes us as a species to transcend chemistry and biology, making us truly human, and ultimately spiritual in nature.

But enough about me. My final thoughts have to do with you, why I have a web page, and why I make these pictures available for sale. The answer has been another major discovery for me. I discovered that, prior to engaging the world in which I live with a camera I was, by and large, blind. Certainly I saw and noted sunsets, fireworks, the Grand Canyon and brilliant flowers; but only after I had a camera did I realize that I had been oblivious to 90% of the beauty in my day-to-day world. Only after I had the camera did I become mindful enough, and therefore observant enough, to truly see the delicate patterns defined by forest limbs, the poignant moods evoked by dying flowers, the instant by instant, constantly changing face of a friend, or the subtle interplay of light and dark on familiar objects within my own home. With the camera, everywhere I looked there were things to be seen and enjoyed, marveled at or pondered.

Other people, maybe even you youself, may also live in a beautiful world of which they are largely unaware. Others may believe, like I did, that beauty is someplace else. By sharing my pictures I can share my discovery of the pervasive quality of beauty, of its commonplace existence, and its everyday reality. I want people to enjoy my pictures, be impacted by them. But perhaps more than any thing else, I want my pictures to bestow sight, as they did for me in the taking of them, so people see their own world more clearly, become sensitive to the subtle grandeur constantly infused in their own world, and thereby, to enrich people's lives not only through my work, but because of my work.