I DON’T KNOW. LIKE 30 YEARS

Common question. And good one. It speaks of experience. Putting in your dues. Mistakes made and lessons learned. And if you ever shot on film. Which I did. I even processed my own black-and-white in my bathroom. My roommates hated it. It smelled like a morgue. But I liked it, and they did stuff I didn’t like either. But 30 years is really just the money-making part. I started shooting when I was like 12 or 13. But we’re not going to let you get away with agism, so let’s just say I’m a dashing 24-year-old. But the first time I started making money with my photos, which is technically when you can say you started doing it professionally, was somewhere in my late twenties with a little company called iStockPhoto.com that I read about in Wired Magazine. The internet was still kind of new and clunky, with making money and downloading large files still a bit of a novelty. But here was this young upstart company that wanted to take on the legacy companies that would literally mail you film negatives when you licensed their photos. But this was all digital. Super cheap and very accessible for a young photographer with a limited portfolio of mostly stuff he shot in his spare time. And that time, I was working in film production. Mostly music videos and commercials. The jobs typically lasted 2-4 weeks, and then you’d have a week or two off while you desperately tried to find your next job. But still with time on my hands, and a hobby I loved, I ran with the article and signed up to sell my stock online. And without a doubt, this experience was the single most educational one of my entire career. It changed absolutely everything, from start to finish about me as a photographer. It changed what I shot. It changed how I shot. It changed how I processed. It changed how I judged a photo and a new appreciation for photos that most people wouldn’t give a second look. Because here was the deal. It didn’t care if I liked the photo. It didn’t care if it was a good friend, or a cool experience, or some new trick I learned on the computer. All it cared about was, will it sell? Was it technically and creatively capable and desirable? Before this, it was crazy graffiti, birds at sunset, or some girl I had a crush on. The internet didn’t want that. It was clean, repeatable, instantly recognizable, and with impact. I never thought I could come to love a football on a white background. But a couple thousand dollars later, and it’s my pride and joy. I stopped uploading to iStock probably 20 years ago at this point, but that football, bike, Easter eggs, and American flag still kick out a couple hundred bucks every month. Money that doesn’t make a big difference in my everyday life, but the lessons learned are still there. But I did stop. Not sure why. Maybe I got bored. Or busy. I got promoted up to Producer, and the work got harder, and the desperation between jobs more desperate. And then the world came to a grinding halt in 2008 when all this money apparently went poof. At least that’s what the economist said. Either way, film work dried up, and our first baby came into the world. Being freelance (translation: unemployed) and my wife on staff, it was decided that I would stay home with our new little angel instead of shelling out for daycare while I stayed home and watched the Price is Right. Hardest… year… ever. Dude. Seriously. And about a year into it, I decided I needed to do something. Film had burned me out pretty well, and I’m grateful in hindsight I was given a window to exit. But I still needed to do something. First thought was a job. But jobs suck. So what about my little hobby? I knew how to shoot. But didn’t know how to turn it into a full-time gig. And the question of what to shoot. I had read a photography book a while back that suggested the best way to figure out what kind of photographer you wanted to be was to print out every photo in your portfolio and then place them into stacks based on a theme. Headshots. Landscapes. Still Life. Etc. Etc. Etc. And then, simply pick the stack that was the biggest. So I did. And architecture was the clear winner. So I’m starting to hone in there. But then how? I had a handful of architectural shots, but none for paying clients, and needed some more experience. And this time, I went on the web and simply Googled photography careers for want-to-be architectural photographers, which promptly brought me to real estate photography. I know, I know. Ew. Not exactly high art. But the logistics made sense. Low-barrier of entry: I pretty much already had all the gear. Great hours for a stay-at-home dad: you shoot during the day and process at night. And in the right market can actually be pretty successful. Which, thanks to living on the affluent side of Los Angeles, was basically the mother-lode. So I called up the agent who had sold us our house and asked if I could try shooting something for him. Which led to about a 10-year run of shooting over 3000 houses and delivering over 80,000 photos. So yeah, it worked. And I still got my kids to school each morning, picked them up almost every day from after-school care, and still made dinner every night. The business grew year-over-year and by the late 20-teens was making a pretty healthy income for me and my family. But near the end, things also started to change. First, it became a grind. I had great clients, and was shooting some amazing properties, but it was still a volume game. Shoot as many homes as you could in a day, week, month. Shoot every damn room in the house, and over-deliver so many files they feel like they’re getting the royal treatment. And do this day-in, day-out pretty much year-round. Keeping in mind that it would get up to 115 degrees in the summer. So basically, I was getting worn out. And I was also aching to be a little more artistic. A little more thoughtful and intentional with the photos. I started shooting architectural shots on my shoots, reaching out to the stagers to see if they needed any interiors photos, and even hired a business coach and successful architectural photographer to help me make the transition. All of which was going quite well until… the severe acute respiratory syndrome coronavirus 2 came to town and brought all of that to a grinding halt. Skip ahead past packing up the kids, 2 dogs, and cat in a rental RV and moving ourselves across a continent while avoiding all hotels and restaurants, settling into a new town with only your wife’s family as friends, having your wife get the job offer of a lifetime back in California, so now I’m raising the kids on my own, and I start thinking I’d like to start taking pictures again. My thought was that I would just pick up where I left off and see if there was any architectural work in the area. But I caught a lucky break when the new owners of a local magazine hired me to shoot a couple of articles for them. Working with Portsmouth City Lifestyle opened up lots of new opportunities to shoot people, food, and places in motion and not as static as before. I then reached out to local charities and non-profits to start shooting events. And now my portfolio is once again a collage of themes and styles, not so narrowly focused on one genre or client type. So now, I’m a commercial photographer. I shoot headshots and portraits, events and businesses. I’ll still shoot architectural projects and interiors for interior designers. I’ll even shoot real estate if you ask nicely. I don’t want to be everything for everybody, but it’s great to have opened up my palette to all kinds of photography that allow me to explore new subjects and tackle them with a variety of styles. It’s been a hell of a journey, and each day is still day one. With the end of each project, I have to start over as an unemployed photographer just trying to take some shots. But that’s a pretty great way to do it too.