Impulse

To improve in any creative pursuit, you've got to be good at judging your own work. Jay Maisel also points out in the Epson Online Experience that being a good editor is essential to growing professionally - "If you don't edit well, nobodys going to know how well youre shooting." That's all completely true, but judging your own work is damn hard!

I'm great at judging other people's work - I'll tell you what I love and don't love. I'll help you refine & focus towards your desired end. I've been reviewing people's work for years, and have gotten very good at it. It's a blast. But, when it's time to turn my attention to my own work, something strange happens - I loose all ability to discern between greatness and garbage.
Of course, this happens to everyone. One of the biggest hurdles is forgetting the context of the work. When I look my pictures, I still remember being there. I can hear the voices of people talking; remember what I felt like in that moment. This context insinuates meaning into the picture that isn't captured in it. I look at the picture and it seems good - someone else looks at it and there's nothing. You've got free yourself from all context to judge your work objectively.
Here's an example from my Golden Leaf project. When we were shooting, I loved how everything on the set focused up to one point - an old man plucking a leaf off a tree. Crew members all watched the hand rise to the leaf; lights beamed up at it; the camera was trained on the hand, gliding upwards with it; production assistants were arrayed at the bottom holding everything in position for the all-important moment. It's one of those surreal moments that frequently occur on a film set when an incredible ammount of effort centers on some trivial little action.
I remember my impression of the moment well. When I look at the picture, it all comes back. Yet, I didn't quite capture it. Most people pass over this picture without much interest. They see the picture as it really is - some picture of a guy on a ladder. To judge the photo accurately, I need to see it ignorant of all context.
Even without all context, I often find it difficult to discern between good and bad work. I know I'm wrong sometimes. I've often been surprised by how excited people will get over pictures of mine that I found dull. I have one image from Seattle Center's fountain that I find plain, but it is one of the most requested pictures I have. One of my friends liked it so much, she actually cried when I gave it to her for Christmas. So, with that awareness of my inability to predict people's reactions, I'm afraid I might toss one of those mysterious pictures I hate but others love.
The cure, of course, is to say, "Screw 'em!". It comes down to integrity again: forget what I think other people will like, and just judge based on my own reaction to it. Do I like it? I may be wrong from time to time, choosing something that nobody else will like or throwing away a jem. Only by focusing on what I like will I be able to explore my own taste, and in time develop that impulse into something larger. In the meantime, I'll just be a little weird.
Finally, I often get down to two versions that I have a hard time choosing the better. Again, Jay Maisel is right on the money: "When it gets that close, it really doesn't matter. Just make a damn decision!"