我的lomography年

For most of 2008, I carried a Holga with me. For the uninitiated, the Holga is a low-tech, medium-format film camera. In fact, it’s actually a toy camera made of cheap plastic, prone to light leaks, and producing wondrously lo-fi photos. The technical term for its output is lomography.

在2008年的大部分时间里，我都随身携带了Holga 。 对于初学者来说，Holga是一款低技术的中画幅胶卷相机。 实际上，它实际上是由廉价塑料制成的玩具相机，容易漏光，并产生奇妙的低保真照片。 输出的技术术语是lomography 。

Kurt Groetsch Kurt Groetsch摄

Agency life was burning me out; the constant thrum of design output was sapping my energy. I turned to a non-work creative outlet, something to lubricate the gears. I’d walk around NYC looking for interesting moments — not subject matter, vignettes or stories, but simple yet striking compositions. I’d shoot, then wait, because that’s what you do when using a lomographic camera: you wait.

一个能动性的生命在燃烧我出去; 持续不断的设计输出震撼了我的精力。 我转向了一个非工作性的创意出口，以润滑齿轮。 我会绕着纽约寻找有趣的时刻 -不是主题，小插曲或故事，而是简单却引人注目的构图。 我先拍摄，然后等待，因为那是使用Lomographic相机时要做的事情：等待。

Shoot, finish your roll, head to the photo processor, return a few days later to pick up your contact sheets.

拍摄，完成胶卷，转到照片处理器，几天后返回以拿起联系表。

Here’s the thing: the images on the contact sheets were less like photographs than foggy memories—a kind of dreamlike deja vu. A bit like those rare waking moments when you remember a scene from a dream the night before, uncertain whether it was a dream at all.

事实是：联系表上的图像不像照片，而是像雾蒙蒙的回忆-一种梦幻般的似曾相识。 有点像那些难忘的醒着时刻，当您记得前一天晚上梦中的场景时，根本不确定那是否是梦。

Familiar unfamiliarity.

熟悉不熟悉。

Chalk this haziness up to the mechanics of the camera itself. It’s clumsy, clunky, and not particularly good at capturing reality. Instead, it introduces randomness and noise, flaws and unexpected beauty. It interprets reality. All cameras do, but none so much as the lomographic camera.

消除这种模糊性，取决于相机本身的结构。 它笨拙，笨拙，而且不太擅长捕捉现实。 相反，它引入了随机性和噪声，缺陷和意外的美丽。 它解释了现实。 所有相机都可以，但没有全景相机那么多。

The illusion of creative control would disappear the moment I saw the contact sheets. What became clear was that I was a participant in the creation of these images, not the sole creator. The camera was my collaborator, my creative partner, introducing as much into the final output as I did. Maybe more.

当我看到联系表时，创造性控制的幻想就会消失。 清楚的是，我是这些图像创作的参与者，而不是唯一的创造者。 相机是我的合作者，也是我的创意伙伴，它像我一样在最终输出中介绍了尽可能多的内容。 也许更多。

And thus came the lesson I’d use in all my professional design work from that point forward: it’s not all up to me.

从那时起，我将在所有专业设计工作中使用该课程： 这并不完全取决于我 。

I can let go a little, trust the process, empower my teammates, particpate—but not always lead.

我可以放手一点，相信这个过程，赋予我的队友权力，参与其中，但并不总是领导。

The creative logjam in my head was of my own making.

我脑海中的创意僵局是我自己创造的。

The burnout was real, but the solution wasn’t walking away; it was loosening the reins.

倦怠是真实的，但是解决方案并没有消失。 它松开了loose绳。

I came to realize that instead of a steering wheel with its precise responsiveness, I hold a rudder. I can let it slip through the water, nudging the boat one way or another with imprecise precision. Charting a course rather than planning each step. Understanding that a little bit of randomness is not only tolerable, it’s desirable. Because as often as not, that randomness is where great stuff happens.

我开始意识到，我拿着方向舵代替了具有精确响应能力的方向盘。 我可以让它滑入水面，以一种不精确的方式将船以一种或另一种方式推进。 计划课程，而不是计划每个步骤。 了解一点随机性不仅是可以容忍的，而且是可取的。 因为随机性经常发生在好东西上。

关于创意项目的说明 (A note on creative side projects)

I believe designers need occasional creative side projects of their own making. I like to treat mine with respect by giving them constraints like deadlines and other parameters, while making sure they’re far enough from my day-to-day work that they push me into unexpected territory. As with my year of lomography, I don’t know what I’ll learn from them when I start, and therein lies the magic.

我相信设计师偶尔需要自己创作的创意副业。 我喜欢通过给予他们诸如截止日期和其他参数这样的约束来尊重我，同时确保他们与我的日常工作相距甚远，以至于他们将我推入了意料之外的领域。 就像我从事摄影术的那年一样，我不知道从一开始就可以从他们那里学到什么，其中蕴含着神奇。

Here are a couple recent side projects I did for myself:

这是我为自己做的几个近期附带项目：

翻译自: https://uxdesign.cc/my-year-of-lomography-6533e33bfce8