So I found this word today: vemödalen. It felt so immediately relatable, so painfully close to a feeling I never knew could be described.

It is a word that can apparently be used to describe an obscure, latent sorrow common to so many photographers. A sorrow amplified by the proliferation of camera apps making photography 'easy' to master for everyone.

Which is something amazing, because it brings so many closer to this art, making us all a little more sensitive to composition, a little more literate, a little more prone to see the differences between good and bad, beautiful and ugly.

So here it is:

n. the frustration of photographing something amazing when thousands of identical photos already exist—the same sunset, the same waterfall, the same curve of a hip, the same closeup of an eye—which can turn a unique subject into something hollow and pulpy and cheap, like a mass-produced piece of furniture you happen to have assembled yourself.

But together with the frustration, I argue, being aware of this feeling, letting it flow through your eye, is what really pushes every real photographer to find uniqueness in the everyday.

Because a sunset can become your sunset only when you stop trying to take a picture of it - and you start capturing the change it provokes into you.

That's what moves me, and what Kamavisione tries to be.

The neglection of vemödalen.