I’ve done photography for a very long time. I’m classically trained on black and white film, in a dark room and all that jazz. I’ve worked with several professional photographers. I’ve studied, I’ve taken oodles of classes. Though, it still shocks me that I call myself a photographer. It shocks me that people like my work, that they ask me to take photos of their families and their special moments in life. I still get incredibly nervous before I shoot a wedding. I still sit and wonder if a client is going to like their photos when they see their proofs. I sit anxiously waiting to hear their response, knowing that they’re going to hate them. I’m always so thrilled to hear that they don’t, but I never expect it.

If you live under a rock you may not know how over saturated the photography market is. There is a photographer on every corner willing to take your photo for less money and sometimes for free. Its infuriating and challenging. It makes me want to be better, to learn more, to excel. I don’t have the best or fanciest or newest equiptment. Often times there are wedding guests with a “better” camera than mine. I just constantly remind myself that its not about the equipment, its about the person behind the equipment. Its about my knowledge of how to manipulate light and camera, the way I see things, and my perspective on an experience, and the rush I feel while shooting.

There are so many people who have been in the business so much longer and are so better skilled than I am. I really look up to them and hope to learn from them. I respect them more than I can ever express and I thank them for laying the foundations of this business.

I read a quote recently that made a lot of sense to me.

“If you find yourself asking yourself (and your friends), ‘Am I really a writer? Am I REALLY an artist?’ Chances are you are. The counterfeit innovator is wildly self confident. The real one is scared to death.” -Steven Pressfield “The War of Art”

This is Danielle. She was my first paying client. I owe a lot to her and her ability to trust me and to see in me something at the time I was not aware of in myself. Something I still question every time I put my eye up to the viewfinder on my camera.