Friday, September 20, 2013

I'm not scared anymore. Mostly.

When I started this (professional) endeavor, I had all the confidence in the world.  The job I had for 15 years had tanked and they could no longer afford to pay me -pretty much AT ALL.  I had to quit, and now was as good a time as any to jump into professional photography (since I took nice pictures of my kids and all).

Year one: Analysis Paralysis.
old "work" -yeesch.
old work.  Yeesch.

My friends and family [(especially my wife (Aka "sugarmama")] all overwhelmingly supported me.  They fed my ego with the praise and lots of opportunities to "practice" at their functions and weddings.  I had watched a million videos on YouTube on how to be a professional photographer -therefor, by proxy, I was a pro.  I thought the business end would just fall into place.  "Take pictures, sell them, make bank".  Taxes, insurance, client base, software, EXPERIENCE weren't exactly a part of my 5 year plan.  So, I got a business license and acquired a RIDICULOUS amount of props and chairs and hats and backgrounds and buckets and pillows and and and.  I even had a couple of friends that were professionals that tried to give me advise.  But, I was too smart for that.  After all, all I needed to do was shoot a couple of cool projects and I would become an instant success.
Genius.
I had so many killer friggin ideas, it was insane.  I wrote them all down on sticky notes that were to be implemented at my earliest convenience.  I talked about all my plans of being the best photographer this town has ever seen.  I even had a few clients and a couple of (paid) weddings. I convinced my wife that my success was just around the corner.  We supplemented our income with our 401k's and didn't bother changing our lifestyle much as the next gig was gonna be a career-maker.
It.  Was. Magical.

Now, just over two years into this, it was looking to be the most idiotic decision I've ever made, it got real.

Year two:  OMG WTF.

In the red.  Taxes are quite the eye opener.  So is annihilating what was left of our retirement/emergency fund.  I couldn't tell you how many times I said to myself "Holy shit, I have to get serious now".  I needed some guidance, but didn't want it.  Facebook was pretty big, and I discovered a few (local) photography groups.  I also discovered humility.  I've always been one to think before I speak -except this one time...
While sitting in the car line waiting on my son Zak to get out of school, a question regarding pricing popped in my head.  "I should ask my new friends in this photography group".
What I quickly posted:  "I'd like to hear how you structure your rates."
What I SHOULD have posted:  "Aside from the normal calculation, do you prefer method A or method B?  Why?"
The response was...enlightening.
First, let's say the question was not met well within the group.  In an entirely separate thread (like I wasn't even in the room), I was made to feel small, stupid, ignorant, and amateurish for asking how they chose their pricing strategy.  "Amateurish".  How embarrassing.
I tried and tried to redeem myself by clarifying my question.  Finally, I submitted to my ignorance.  Tail between my legs.  Mind you, the majority of the bashing was performed by only a couple of local pros.  Others were much more kind and eloquent in putting me in my place (and even defending me).  I have friends that left the group due to the way I was ridiculed and still talk about it to this day.  Mind you, this is not the way to behave, and other pros have apologized for the tirade (including "the" pro).
Bygones.
I thought this made things (the industry) clearer.  In retrospect, it just mucked up the waters.
I began paying closer attention to rants by other photographers.  I started hating things.  My own photography had become quite a bit better, so I started judging others' work (not as a troll -just to my photography friends).  Being a part of the elite was quickly becoming my goal.  I was bitter about "bad photographers" cheapening the industry with their poor work and "discount rates".  And even more angry the general public could seemingly care less.  They would just as soon go to a chain store in the mall for their photography.  I started buying up all the gear I could (not) afford.

I was afraid of what other photographers were saying about myself or my work.
I SO wanted their approval.

Sure, my work got better.  But my vision was diluted.  Still, I worked much harder at making my 'business' grow.  I raised my prices.  I started shooting ALL THE TIME just to have something to show when I wasn't working.  My wedding bookings tripled (from practically nothing, mind you).  My portrait clientele was becoming regular.  I cleaned up my site.  I started doing things "the right way".
Or, so I thought.

Year 2.5:  What have I done?!



It's like I aged twenty years.  Sure, my business has grown.  I got rid of every single prop, frilly background, and had-to-have cool chair, and simplified my process and style.  My photography skills have become decidedly better.  Others in my industry actually know who I am.
At what cost?
There are photographers who follow my work.  I've even been labeled a 'mentor' to some.  I get calls and messages about how I got 'that shot', or how I run my business.
"Help me".

Wow.  Just wow.
On one hand, this is where I was wanting to be.  I DID work hard.  I DID study and hone my craft and business.  On the other hand, my responsibility became clear.  My intentions changed.  My philosophies matured.  I had priorities.
Photography is often viewed as a simple money maker.  Just click a button and sell the pictures.  I know.  This was once my thought.  For the last year or so, I was almost embarrassed to say I was a photographer.  I felt like I was required to be the square peg in the square hole.  Like it was assumed I would be shady about my pricing.  Like I would be a high pressure salesman.  Like my clients needed to be well-off to afford my services.
Fact:
Photography is expensive.
Fact:
I bring thousands of dollars worth of equipment, insurance, software, and applicable experience to your shoot.
Fact:
Your wedding will often take several long hours of zit removal, PERSON removal, color correction, and an overall careful edit of the most important day of your life.
Fact:
You trusted me.

Trust.  That's pretty powerful.  We don't throw this around arbitrarily.

I offer you this;
I will not treat you like a client.  I will not alienate you based on your budget or your lazy eye.  I will not follow the perceived standard.
I WILL, however, build lasting relationships.  I will be honest and open.  I will keep it simple.  I will keep striving to be innovative in my work.  I will cease to care about what that other photographer is doing.  I will offer inspiration and help whenever possible.  I will continue to love the people I am fortunate enough to work with.

And I will continue to love what I do.

I am forever thankful for these lessons.

2 comments:

  1. Totally love this post...your brutal honesty about the business and yourself is so refreshing compared to other photographers.

    I understand the desire to belong to a group in your field as I had that desire once as well and for basically the same reason as what happened to you, I bowed out and away. Nothing against the group - I just didn't need any more un-asked for criticisms or doubts about my work. I do enough of that for myself. Instead, I chose to continue doing what I do and although I have no formal education in my field, people still "get it" and buy it, so I must be doing something right.

    Applause to you Shannon! As you know, I LOVE your work!

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  2. You're so good to me Connie! Anyone that has ever seen your work knows how much love you put into it. I've been to your site(s?), but don't have them bookmarked. Please DO leave a link to where folks can see your work!

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