The brain.

 A few days ago I was talking to some friends about the homogeneity of the photos we see and post on various Internet forums. It would seem that the Net is a monster that sweeps away all creative individuality and impels us to repeat like automatons what we see on it. After giving the matter some thought, I have concluded that the fault for this uniformity lies with the brain. Let me explain. All the images that we contemplate for a few seconds leave an imprint in our brains. This imprint is not very lasting if it is an isolated image, but things change if a lot of similar images continue to impress our retina.  In that case, our brain will have created a visual scheme or pattern with certain characteristics: silhouettes of subjects passing over backgrounds of saturated colors; subjects that appear illuminated over a sea of shadows; apparently inane landscapes of the urban periphery, objects that seem to float over a silky, monochrome sea, etc. Those schemes act as a kind of filter that makes us pay more attention to the visual configurations that fit them when we go out to take pictures. And the more such photos we see, the lower the threshold of activation of those schemes. We go down the street and we see nothing else, and, of course, we repeat ourselves. If we want to get out of this powerful attractor that traps us, we have no choice but to see a lot of different photography, diversifying the places we look at, both on and off the internet, and making a deliberate effort to move away from the cliché. The more schemes are grouped in our brain the more diffuse the visual filters will be and the less predetermined our photos will be.

The eye.

 I read in the catalog of the exhibition that the Mapfre Foundation dedicated to Stephen Shore a magnificent interview (or perhaps it would be fairer to speak of dialogue) with David Campany. They talk about the importance of light and its influence on the kind of photos we take. And it is about something as prosaic as the functioning of our retina, so similar to the diaphragm of a camera. When the light is intense, as in Mediterranean countries at midday, our pupils close to prevent too much light from entering the back of the eye. The consequence is that we see everything in focus, from the foreground to the background. On the other hand, when light is scarce, and the pupil is dilated to the maximum, the depth of field is limited, and we tend to focus on the foreground, which moves away from a blurred background.  This pupil dilation increases with concentration, such as when we are reading something complicated or trying to solve a problem. It also dilates with interest or sexual attraction. Therefore, it seems that both the amount of light and the degree of concentration influence how we compose our photos. It is possible that in bright light we are more sensitive to the relationships established between background and figure, while in low light we focus on the foreground and ignore the background. It's a retinal thing.