I find this to be true for both physical skills and intellectual knowledge. I used to dance very active a couple of years ago, and quite often I was unable to learn a new step or move no matter how hard I tried. then I could come back to it two weeks later and just do it right the first time.

I guess that strive for growth is part of our nature (well explained, Andreas) but growth should be seen differentiated: while physical growth, and the growth of the stock market there belongs to the physical world in spite of these figures beeing mainly hypothetical ones, not really fully backed by physical assets will lead to distortions – just see overusage of ressources, soaring prices of commodities, even the daily traffic jam – qualitative growth, including the growth of your own creativity, seems to be disconnected from the physical side effects of unlimited growth. OK, it may happen that the number of people that understand your art diminuishes, but that itself is only a sign of change, not an indicator of quality. You create because it is part of your essence.

That brings me to the topic of that creative plateaus, that probably many of us know. In retrospective it seems to have been a rule in my life that those quiet phases are predecessors of outbursts of creativity, like a critical mass that has to accumulate up to a certain level and then suddenly everything falls into place and the quality of results just leaps forward. Therefore I do not fear those plateaus any more. Working and creating, going on and trying, reflecting and improving at least for me is the way to fill the plateaus with directed activity and to help that critical mass to grow.

@Mark: I don’t look at plateau as a permanent thing, or a summit, if you will. I think that you phrased it more accurately as a stagnant point, or perhaps a flat step.

@Photo Buffet: I’ve done that before and it always works. Usually when I’m in the throws of some busy work around the house, suddenly my eye catches something and run and get my camera, work with it for a while, and then am quite content with the outcome. I was receptive. Going out when I’m not receptive is rather a waste of time … sometimes; other times, I can slip into the mode of receptiveness.

Paul, this is a GREAT photo! I loved it instantly because her face isn’t showing. The braid left me asking questions, and that is the sign of an evocative photo!

One suggestion is to perhaps sit back and review some of your earlier work – think about how you did it back then, and how you might approach it differently today. I am working my way through Tony Sweet’s Visual Literacy DVD, and he is doing just that in the studio segment. He shows and talks about images he shot when he was getting started, and how he would approach the subject quite differently if faced with the same thing today. Recognizing where you have gone to where you are today can perhaps draw out a map that will make the future road a bit clearer. It is an approach that I am trying to engage in myself.

I hit a stagnant point this spring in relation to spring flowers. I have shot many of them in my area a number of different ways, and short of taking a trip to see perhaps different flowers and different landscapes, I just didn’t have any motivation to do the same ol’ thing for another year. Anyway, Tony has provided some ideas that I might want to play with. His style of photography is very similar to my own, as well as the approaches he takes to a lot of images. Check out his DVD – it has nice studio and in the field sections and provides a lot of ideas to play around with.

I guess what you seek is satisfaction from what you do, and here I see a contradiction with the concept of better, bigger, greater. I believe it does not make sense. You can expect to produce ever greater and better things over time, but you can’t expect to get any satisfaction out of that. At any point of time you produce what you can, and at any such time that is your standard. It will always be less than you can imagine, because you can always imagine something bigger and better than you have. By doing you WILL get better, no chance to not do, there s no need to force it and not much you can do to accelerate it. Sure, teachers can help, but from a certain point you invariably have to go your own way. The only thing you could do to fail, is not going at all.

Well, the Lensbaby, the macro lens, these are only examples. Look around. Look into things. Be curious. Look into other disciplines. Look at what others do. Photographers. Painters. See something that you feel you couldn’t possibly do it, then to do it. See something that you don’t like and that you feel you could do better, then do it better. Pick something at random and ask yourself questions about it. Make it a subject and see where else you can find it. If you find another instance, think about what the two have in common and what makes them different.

All these are the usual creativity exercises, and surprisingly enough they work. In reality making good images is not bound to be in a certain place, having a certain camera, having leisure and most certainly not from worrying about making good images. It comes from making images.

For example, I have a Lensbaby sitting on my desk, but I rarely use it. It doesn’t strike my fancy. Also, I know that any time that I am in a funk, perhaps, I can get out the macro lens and do something interesting. It just happens that way.

Even with trying new things, I think that the plateau is inevitable and searching for bigger things, different things, newer things, doesn’t resolve the issue. I would agree that we are (taught to be) relentless pleasure seekers, rarely taking time to enjoy what is in front of us, glancing only with a blithe indifference to what is before us. We are very much hedonistic in nature. We are taught that we must always improve. Never settle.

I am seeking to tame that nature (teaching), slow down, and appreciate what is before me. I want to relish that plateau, but sometimes it’s difficult. Lastly, I don’t think that we are born with this restless nature. I think that we are taught it.