How to Ask for Photography Feedback: A Beginner's Guide to Seeking Self-Improvement.

A short while back, I wrote a pair of pieces about giving and responding to critiques of photography with a certain level of decorum. As many of you already know, criticism is best given when actually asked for. While having the confidence and self-awareness to seek feedback in and of itself is commendable, not all requests for feedback are equal. Despite what one might think, it’s not quite as simple as posting your photo online and asking for general feedback. As with giving and responding to critiques, there are certain ways you can present your request for feedback to improve your odds of receiving meaningful advice. Below, I’ll go over the information you can offer to increase those chances.

Share your settings and additional information

We’re going to start with one of the most basic pieces of information every request for criticism should include. It’s a good idea to share as much information as you can about the settings. This will usually include the basics, such as focal length, shutter speed, aperture, and ISO, just to name a few. These settings give the person providing the critique the information they need to understand any issues they may identify, such as camera shake, noise, depth of field, and so on. As a result, they will be better equipped to suggest solutions to these issues for future shoots. Furthermore, this information will give them the ability to provide additional suggestions, such as a slower/faster shutter speed for waterfalls or a longer focal length to help with scale. However, it goes beyond the settings on your camera. If you’re in the field, it can be helpful to provide additional information, such as the time of day and the direction you were facing. This additional insight can help the person giving the critique better understand the conditions, which can lead to recommendations for future shoots, especially if they are familiar with that particular location. Additionally, it’s helpful to mention the tools or gear you used, such as your camera, lenses, and filters. While it’s true that gear doesn’t make the photographer, having an understanding of what gear you have access to can give light to some of the restrictions you may be facing.

Share the key edits

Much like the technical information about the shot, sharing some of the specific edits made to the photo can help the person providing the feedback make a more informed critique. This isn’t to say you have to share every small tweak you’ve made, but sharing some of the specific edits you’ve made can help remove a lot of the guess work. However, as your editing improves, it can actually be a good idea to leave some of the editing details out. For example, if you’ve removed or added something to the photo, leaving that information out can act as a quality check, as mentioning it will only draw attention to it. This isn’t to say you should lie about any of the edits you’ve made, but if no one is able to notice an edit you made without specifically looking for it, it’s usually a good sign. I’ve removed distractions from countless images in my portfolio and the prints I sell and, to the best of my knowledge, they have gone unnoticed. The editing information you choose to include is most useful when you’re trying to achieve a particular style or effect, which leads perfectly into my next point.

Explain your intention

A couple of years ago, I did an entire write-up on the importance of shooting and editing with intent. When sharing your work with the goal of getting feedback, it’s a good idea to explain your intent. This could include a number of intentions, such as a particular style, mood, or effect you were going for. If it may not be immediately obvious, it can also be a good idea to explain what drew you to the scene, and why you decided to shoot it. It could even be as simple as explaining what the intention behind your framing, composition, and settings were. Much like sharing the technical and editing information, explaining what exactly you were going for takes away a lot of the guess work. Without this information, intentional decisions could come across as mistakes. Making sure both you and the person providing the critique are on the same page is the first step to getting effective feedback. It will also save you a lot of time responding to people asking you about your intent or feedback treating your decisions as oversights or amateur mistakes. Furthermore, as you continue growing as a photographer, actively asking yourself about the intent behind your decisions can help you make more meaningful choices, both in the field and in the editing software. It should also be noted that if you’re not able to articulate your intention behind an image or edit, that might be the first sign that your photograph has bigger issues. For me, the first step to taking a photograph starts with one question: ‘why?’ Explaining the why to the people providing feedback is one of the most helpful things you can do to ensure you receive the kind of feedback that will help you improve your photography.

Explain your level and abilities

As I mentioned in my write-up about critiquing photography, it’s important that the feedback is delivered in a way that the photographer can understand. This is why it’s a good idea to mention how much experience you have with photography. You don’t need to post your entire resume, but it’s helpful to point out if you’re just getting started or have picked up your camera for the first time in a while. As you gain more experience and learn more about photography, you will eventually pick up a boatload of new terms, including quite a bit of jargon. However, if you’re just getting started, it can be daunting to read a reply filled with so much new language that it makes your head spin. You will eventually learn the terms, but in the meantime, if you need the feedback to be delivered in a specific way, it’s best to mention that up front, lest you spend the next few hours Googling photography terms. Furthermore, it’s a good idea to explain your editing level and software limitations. Much like terms, you will eventually learn increasingly advanced editing techniques, and you may invest in more advanced editing software. However, I know from personal experience that receiving editing suggestions that neither you or your software are capable of can leave you feeling dejected. This is one of the reasons I no longer watch editing videos on YouTube by professional photographers. Most of them are using techniques and tools that my five year old copies of Lightroom and Photoshop don’t have access to. Nothing feels worse than getting 15 minutes into a video or write up about editing only to find out it’s something you can’t even do. The same is true for reading a critique of your photo. Letting people know what you do and don’t have access to is one of the best ways to ensure that neither you or the person providing the critique waste time.

Ask for specific help

When it comes to offering critiques, I can’t count the number of times I’ve looked at a photo from someone asking for feedback and genuinely thought “where do I start?”. It’s in moments like these that I’m most likely to take a pass on giving feedback. I understand that for newer photographers it can be temping to simply share your photo online and say something to the effect of ‘give me your harshest critique!’ in the title. After all, when you’re just getting started, it’s hard to know what you don’t know. However, once you have an idea of what you want to focus on, it’s best to let it be known. If you’re looking to improve composition, make that clear. If there’s a particular style you’re going for, explain what you’re trying to do. It doesn’t have to be overly explanatory, something as simple as “how do I bring more attention to my subject in this scene?” or “how did I do with the colors on this moody edit?'“ will suffice. This will not only help you get more precise feedback, but it will help the person giving the critique prioritize their comments. On top of that, it will help reduce the chances of them over-critiquing the photo, which may leave newer photographers feeling overwhelmed as they get feedback regarding composition, camera settings, light, and editing all at once. If there are follow-up critiques or additional pieces of advice, those can be discussed as a conversation unfolds. After all, one of the goals of art is to encourage discussion, and photography criticism is simply one of the ways you can engage in conversation about a shared interest.

Go in with an open mind

For many of us, we know exactly what we want our finished image to look like before we even press the shutter…or at least we think we do. I mentioned this in my write up about taking photography criticism, but I think it bears repeating here. When it comes to any form of art criticism, it’s important to keep an open mind. The vast majority of art criticism is subjective, and photography criticism is no different. While you might go in with a specific vision in mind, prepare yourself to hear opinions that differ from your own, and be open to imagining your image in a different way than you originally planned. Stubbornness is not a key to improvement, it will only serve to hold you back. As a photography hobbyist, flexibility and adaptability are incredibly important to staying active when you have limited time with your camera. As you improve as a photographer, you’ll come across situations where you discover a new photograph either in the field or during the editing process. Be open to the idea that someone can help you discover a photograph you didn’t even know you had, and you may be surprised with the results.

The Wrap-up

As with my write-ups regarding giving and responding to criticism, there is no one way to do things and this write-up is by no means meant to be taken as a holy text. These are simply some of the things that I look for before chiming in with an informed critique. Of course, some photos will require quite a bit of information about the intent, while others may be more obvious, so don’t feel the need to include everything I’ve mentioned if your photo falls into the latter. If you have any other pieces of advice you’d like to add, feel free to let me know. I hope this guide will help you receive the kind of critiques you’re looking for and generate meaningful discussions.

The Dos and Don'ts of Photography Criticism, Part 2: How to Give it

Preface: I’d like to start by saying that I feel the word ‘criticism’ is interpreted by some as inherently negative, but that doesn’t have to be the case. Throughout this write-up, and in part 1, I’ve used the words ‘critique’, ‘criticism', and ‘feedback’, interchangeably, because I consider them to be more or less the same in this particular context.

In my previous post, I discussed some of the discoveries I’ve made related to receiving critiques, and some things I’ve learned to better handle them. In part 2, I’d like to look at the opposite side. After all, feedback is only helpful when conveyed in an effective way. On top of that, you’re more likely to get a positive response, if the feedback is presented in a way that doesn’t come across as combative or demeaning. In fact, it can be a way to build connections within the photography community. Below, I’ll go over the ways I prevent even my most honest critiques from feeling like an attack.

The Dos:

1) Be Articulate:

This one might seem obvious, but I feel it’s one of the most important parts of giving effective feedback. Ensuring that the person you’ve given the feedback to understands what you’re trying to say and why you’re saying it can make the difference between useful constructive criticism and a negative comment. If you see something wrong with the image or you see something you want to give feedback on, make the extra effort to explain your reasoning. Instead of simply saying ‘the left side of the frame is too dark’ try phrasing it more like ‘I feel that the left side of the frame is a bit dark, so it’s pulling my eyes away from the subject’. While this might seem like the same comment, on the surface, they can be interpreted in different ways. The former might come across as you not liking darker images, whereas the latter explains that it’s a distraction. This level of clarity increases the chances of the photographer understanding your point of view thus reducing the risk of confrontation.

2) Offer Advice:

Some people believe that photography criticism is easy. You just point out everything the artist did wrong, and then carry on with your day. In reality, simply pointing out the issues you have with something is only the first step when it comes to giving an effective critique. As I mentioned in my previous write-up, a critique, when given well, is meant to lift people up, not knock them down. That’s why it’s incredibly important to offer solutions to the issues you have with the image. Instead of just saying an image looks flat, let the photographer know some ways to increase depth within an image. This could be advice they can use in the field or when editing their images at home. Either way, the goal of an effective critique is to have the photographer go into their next shoot or editing session with a new level of understanding or a new perspective that might help them improve their work.

3) Ask Questions:

It’s OK to admit when you need some help understanding something, before giving a critique. Making incorrect assumptions is not only unhelpful, but it has the potential to come across as rude or disingenuous. Worst of all, when you make a critique so confidently, only for it to show your lack of understanding, it ruins your credibility. When there is something you’re not certain about, don’t be afraid to ask questions to collect the details you need to make an informed critique. This could include asking questions about the settings, the location, or the intent behind the image. Ensuring you know as much as possible about the image before offering feedback benefits both the critic and the artist, and is a major key to giving a meaningful critique.

4) Acknowledge it’s Subjective:

This is another point that may appear to be common sense, but it’s one that I often see failing to be conveyed by the language choices. When it comes to making subjective critiques or giving subjective advice, it’s important to ensure that your language reflects that. Simply adding something like ‘personally’ or ‘I feel that’ can change the way the photographer interprets your comment. Also, if the photographer responds to tell you that your critique isn’t something they feel is helpful to their particular vision or style, it can be tempting to double down. This is often where I see the civil communication break down, which leads to objective statements and insults being hurled around. However, it’s important to remember that the photographer has their own vision and preferences. No matter how right you think you are, it’s important to know when to walk away. Furthermore, if it’s clear that the photographer seems uninterested in actually listening to criticism, despite claiming to seek it, it’s best to leave them be than to get into a prolonged argument about it.

5) Know your Expertise:

Continuing with the idea of knowing when to walk away, it’s important to ensure you’re only giving feedback regarding things you actually know about. There’s a reason I don’t give feedback on product photography, car photography, or wedding photography, just to name a few. While it can be tempting to chime in on a variety of photographs, when you lack the experience and understanding in that area, it can do more harm than good, even when done with the best of intentions. This also applies to editing techniques. When giving editing advice, it’s best to comment on elements you’re familiar with. It’s OK to share videos of other photographers explaining these techniques, but be sure to actually watch them before making the recommendation. Furthermore, if the photographer asks you a specific question you don’t feel confident giving an answer to, it’s OK to admit as much. It’s better to admit you have no idea, than to give bad advice.

6) Be honest:

I imagine some people may have gotten this far and have reached the conclusion that I think all situations where you give feedback should be handled with kid-gloves. However, while I do try my best to be particularly careful with my language choices, I’m never one to shy away from giving someone direct feedback. One of the most important things when it comes to giving good a faith critique is honesty. When giving feedback, it’s important to identify what advice you can give for the photo as it is presented and what advice you can give for future shoots. Sometimes, the photo you’re looking at can’t be saved, regardless of editing skills. This is one of the most important times to be honest. There’s no point in giving advice on how to edit a particular photo if the photo itself is beyond saving. To me, giving editing advice for a photo that has underlying problems, such as composition, sharpness, or exposure is like putting lipstick on a pig. I often tell new photographers, it’s better to learn from their mistakes and use that knowledge for their next photography outing, than to attempt editing their mistakes away. That isn’t to say they can’t practice some editing techniques on that photo and it doesn’t mean you can’t give some editing advice for future images, but part of growing as a photographer is knowing which photos are worth spending your time on, and which ones serve as a lesson for your next shoot. Giving advice that helps a photographer increase the number of photos that are worth editing starts with honesty.

The Don’ts:

1) Try to be an Entertainer:

We’ve all seen viral videos of judges on TV shows lambasting contestants with a witty one-liner that has the entire audience holding their sides. I also get that it can be tempting to try the same thing, whether it’s to get internet points or gain a feeling of superiority. However, when you look at some of the ‘critiques’ these judges provide beyond their face value of making you laugh, they’re often hollow. That’s because these people are in the entertainment business, so producing an entertaining product trumps providing meaningful constructive criticism. Much like telling someone that they have the worst singing voice you’ve ever heard isn’t providing any meaningful advice for self-improvement, telling someone they suck at an element of photography in an over-the-top way isn’t helpful. What’s more, it’s rarely funny, which I actually think might be the most offensive part. Rather than trying to get a rise out of someone or trying to make people laugh, focus on trying to assist someone who has identified that they need help and is explicitly asking for it, so they can get better at the thing they enjoy.

2) Overwhelm the Photographer:

When giving a detailed critique we can sometimes get a little overzealous. Even when given with the best of intentions, giving feedback that the photographer is unable to understand or recommending techniques they are incapable of doing at their current level can leave them feeling more discouraged than motivated. This is why it’s important to consider the experience of the photographer, their ability, and their understanding of certain vocabulary and techniques. As we grow as photographers, we learn new techniques, rules, and pick up quite a bit of jargon along the way. However, it’s important to keep in mind that not everyone is at the same point of their journey as we are. While saying something like “oh, you should bracket some exposures, so you can blend them together in PS” might be sound advice, if the person is only one week into their photography journey, they might not even know what ‘aperture’ means, yet. While it’s a good idea to introduce these concepts, and provide resources, we need to make sure our advice isn’t coming across as what appears to be a fictional language.

3) Critique the Gear:

Everyone has limitations. For some it’s time, for others it’s money, for many it’s gear. While it’s OK to comment on the type of gear someone might need to achieve a particular photo they are trying to capture, it’s important to avoid criticizing the photographer for their gear. While this is nothing new, I’ve noticed an increase in these kinds of comments as the popularity of phone photography grows. While it can be tempting for many to thumb their nose at someone with entry level gear or a smartphone, it just comes across as elitist. This isn’t to say you can’t point out the limitations of one’s gear and explain what type of gear they might want to consider investing in down the line, but you should be more thoughtful about the way you say it. There’s a big difference between ‘this seems like a gear limitation to me’ and ‘get a real camera’. While both of them point out that the photographer may want to consider looking at new gear or try shooting in a way that fits their gear better, one of them is a little more demeaning. Either way, if you do find that the photographer’s gear is holding them back, there may still be other elements they can continue working on with their current gear. Rather than focusing too much on things they should spend money on, try to focus on the immediate aspects they can improve with their current gear. They may eventually reach a point where an upgrade in gear is needed, but until their gear is the main thing holding them back, it’s best not to make them feel like a new camera or lens is a wand that will magically improve their work.

4) Make Personal Attacks:

This is another one that, hopefully, most people will see as common sense. However, it is, again, something I see and have experienced in the past. Nothing is gained from a personal attack against a photographer, their preferred style, or their choice of subject. Back in my more self-conscious days, I was told that the only reason my work wasn’t getting a bigger social media following is because it sucked and the subjects I photographed were boring (namely flowers and fireworks, at the time). This is the kind of personal attack that provides no constructive feedback, and only serves as an attempt to set the photographer off. While I can easily shrug these kinds of comments off today, I’m a little embarrassed to report that I took the bait at the time. I learned nothing from this interaction, and it had nothing to do with my growth as a photographer, as personal attacks rarely do. However, that isn’t to say critiques can only be directed at the finished product. I have been incredibly critical of the methods used by a particular Japanese street photographer. An opinion, I might add, that I was personally attacked for. However, there’s a difference between criticizing someone’s method of obtaining a photo and insulting them as a person or photographer. While I’ll admit I could have worded some of my criticism better, I still hold the same beliefs. Many of us, myself included, have put ourselves in questionable situations to obtain photos, but there is a line photographers shouldn’t cross. When the photographer’s method becomes harmful the environment, breaks laws, or requires them to be a public nuisance, then it is acceptable to point those aspects out, as they contributed to the finished photo. However, if you feel the need to put someone down, or insult their work, then that’s something you should consider working on. Your goal should be to encourage other photographers to pick up their cameras, not put them away. Keeping this in mind will not only help you give better feedback, it will make you a better person.

5) Give Pseudo-criticism

When looking at the work of others, it’s impossible to do so without our own biases and experiences affecting how we look at it. Every image we look at, every picture we take, and every location we visit has the potential to change the way we look at photographs. However, when giving feedback in an effective way, it’s important to try seeing each image with a fresh set of eyes. This is one of the challenges I’ve seen many face, when giving feedback, and it’s what leads to what I call ‘pseudo-criticism’. While I’m pretty sure I didn’t invent this term, it’s not one that I see many people acknowledge. So, what do I mean by ‘pseudo-criticism’? In short, it’s basically what it sounds like, it’s something that is masquerading as a critique, but isn’t substantive. The best example I can think of goes back to my earlier days of getting into photography. I was watching a video of some professional photographers providing feedback on various photographs. At the time, I felt they often gave blunt, but useful feedback, which was helpful for someone who was still learning the ropes. In this particular video, they put up a photo on the screen, and I was blown away. It was one of the most amazing photos I’d seen to that point. I’d never seen any location like it before, and the conditions were spectacular. Needless to say, my jaw dropped when one of them gave the photo an incredibly low score. Their reasoning: They’d seen this location shot with a similar composition a few times before. This complete inability to look at an image with fresh eyes, is a perfect example of what I consider pseudo-criticism. It’s OK to use your experience to give advice for future shoots at that location, including: the best time of day to visit, seasonal recommendations, and composition. However, using your own online browsing history to completely write off someone’s photo isn’t helpful. This type of criticism implies that once a location becomes popular, there’s no point in even bothering to shoot there. Sorry Iceland, I guess you’re just closed forever, now. You too Tokyo, time to pack your bags and head to a farm up north. All of this is to say, that when you give feedback on a photo, try to imagine it without the biases you have. An inability to do so not only leads to unhelpful pseudo-criticism, but it damages your credibility.

The Wrap-up:

As with part one, this is not a holy text by which to live your life, as it is based solely on my experiences and opinions. My hope is that at least some of these will help someone out there give more effective critiques, which will lead to deeper discussions about photography, and help building stronger connections within the community.

Let me know if there’s anything you’ve learned through your experience of giving or receiving feedback that has helped you give feedback in a more effective way, or even let me know if you disagree with anything.

Thanks as always for reading.

The Dos and Don'ts Photography Criticism, Part 1: How to Take it.

Preface: I’d like to start by saying that I feel the word ‘criticism’ is interpreted by some as inherently negative, but that doesn’t have to be the case. Throughout this write-up, and in part 2, I’ve used the words ‘critique’, ‘criticism', and ‘feedback’ interchangeably, because I consider them to be more or less the same in this particular context.

Photography, like every art form, is subjective. As such, anything we create is open to criticism, whether we like it or not. When criticism is given with the best of intentions, it can lead to growth. While we can’t control the criticism we receive, we can control how we respond to it. In this write up, I’ll be sharing the things I’ve learned over the years that have helped use the valid criticism I’ve received to improve as a photographer, and how I handle less than helpful negative feedback.

The Dos:

1) Take it with an open mind:

When seeking criticism, it’s important to remember that you’ll likely be receiving two different kinds. The first is objective criticism. By this, I mean the viewer will point out objective improvements that could be made to the image. These sorts of things could include the subject being out of focus, unintentional blur due to a slow shutter speed, or blown highlights. The other is subjective. This type of criticism is opinion based and thus requires us to understand where the comment is coming from. When reading a critique of your photography, it’s important to keep a few things in mind. How much experience does the person have in this type of photography? Is it just a difference in stylistic preferences? Is it possible that this type of photo just isn’t their cup of tea? These are the questions I usually ask myself before chiming in with my own critique, so I try to do the same when taking criticism of my own work into consideration. This isn’t to say these are the only questions you should ask, nor are they disqualifying factors, but they do change how much weight I put on the criticism.

2) Start a discussion:

The way I see it, the entire point of art is to give rise to conversation. Whether it’s my photography or my write-ups, I welcome all forms of feedback, both praise and criticism alike. When I receive what appears to be a critique made in good faith, I always try my best to engage in a discussion. This can be done for a few purposes: to find out more information, to explain your artistic choices, or to have a conversation. Whether it’s to clear up some information or to have a chat, there’s nothing wrong with clicking the ‘reply’ button, so long as you do so with the best of intentions.

3) Reflect and Apply:

Whenever I receive helpful criticism given in good faith, I always try my best to reflect on what was said and how I can use it in the future. One of the best ways to grow as a photographer is to try new things. When you’re learning the art of photography, it’s good to take the feedback you’ve received with you when you’re out taking photographs. This isn’t to say you should let it dominate your workflow, but if someone pointed out that a particular location may work better as a vertical image rather than a horizontal one, try taking one of each next time, and find out if they saw something you didn’t. Best case scenario, you start to see locations in a different way, worst case scenario, you have to delete one extra file. While this was a rather specific example, it can be applied to any advice you receive.

4) Notice patterns:

Criticism doesn’t happen in a vacuum. As we continue sharing our work online and actively seeking feedback, we may start to notice patterns emerging. This will happen if you take the time to reflect on the feedback you’ve been getting over longer periods of time. Perhaps multiple people point out that your images could benefit from a different focal length. Maybe you get a lot of feedback regarding your editing choices or distractions around the edges of your frame. It’s important to take all of these things into consideration as they apply to your body of work, rather than a single image. Again, this isn’t to say you need to change your photography to please others or create work you think others will like, but if a bunch of people at your restaurant mention that the food is overcooked, it might be worth considering the possibility that you need to adjust your cooking method.

The Don’ts

1) Ignore critical feedback:

Apologies in advance for the bluntness of this next part, I’ve written and rewritten it multiple times, but I just can’t find a nice way to phrase it. When I see someone say something to the effect of ‘I don’t care what people think about my photography’, it usually shows in the quality of their work… Not that they care what I think. While I understand the sentiment behind these kinds of comments, ignoring constructive feedback is undoubtedly the best way to ensure you hinder your improvement as a photographer. For those who truly do shoot for themselves, this is fine, but for those who are looking to grow as a photographer, take on clients, run workshops, or sell prints, taking valid criticism into consideration is an absolute must. Trust me, I also used to be ‘Mr. Nobody-Understands-My-Genius’ while shooting in auto-mode — for EIGHT YEARS. When I look back at the pictures I took over those eight years, I do so with a feeling of regret. I was so caught up on how amazing I thought my work was, that I missed out on photographing some of the most incredible places I’ve ever visited with a more critical eye. I wasn’t equipped with the knowledge I’ve since gained from listening to others. Due to my blissful ignorance, I was incapable of taking a photograph that stood the test of time. Not a single image from those eight years is in my portfolio, not a single one is available for purchase, and not a single one has been printed. They all sit on an external hard-drive somewhere, collecting digital dust. That is the fate of every single photo I took while not caring what other people think. I don’t know about you, but my photographs deserve better. It’s OK to shoot for yourself, but it never hurts to get feedback if you’re looking to improve. There’s a difference between shooting to impress others and seeking self-improvement. Taking valid criticism into consideration, is the latter.

2) Take it personally:

I’d like to think that, these days, I can handle just about any critique that’s thrown my way, solicited or otherwise. However, that wasn’t always the case. When I look back at some of the interactions I had during the early days of receiving criticism, I feel embarrassed. My skin was so thin, I’m honestly surprised it didn’t blow off my body from the slightest gust of wind. In those days, there was no such thing as a critique of my photo, only an attack on me, the most brilliant photographer who had ever lived. While it can sometimes feel this way, it’s important to remember that someone giving a good faith critique of your work is trying to help you improve your photography, not make you give up. If someone points out a flaw with the image, such as it being out of focus, take it as something you should pay more attention to on your next shoot. If someone expresses an opinion you don’t agree with, just remember that it’s a reflection of how they feel about that particular image, not necessarily about you as a person. For any artist, it can be hard to separate themselves from their work, but it’s an ability one must to learn to take criticism as advice, rather than an attack.

3) Attack the critic:

Building off the previous point, back before my skin had hardened, I didn’t respond well to criticism of my work. I was quick to snap back at the person giving a critique, by either denigrating their work or telling them that they just didn’t understand my genius. I’ve since come to accept that there wasn’t much to understand about my work at the time, it was just bad. Now that I’m more aware of this, it’s something that stands out when I’m on the receiving end of an attack. A while back I gave feedback regarding some distractions within the frame of an image someone was seeking criticism on. Upon reading this critique, the photographer responded with something to the effect of ‘you’re looking at the wrong part of the image’, which completely dismissed the feedback about the image, and instead insisted I was just looking at the image incorrectly. This dismissive tone continued as I tried to explain my perspective, until it reached a point where I accepted that this person was unwilling to be helped. I went through their previous posts, and it was more of the same. Every comment was them telling the viewers that their critiques simply showed their lack of ability to comprehend the genius of their work. This particular person was doing something many self-conscious artists do: posting work under the guise of asking for criticism, while actually seeking affirmation and admiration. Don’t be like this. If you hear opinions you disagree with, it’s OK to ask questions about their criticism, explain your decisions, or respectfully agree to disagree, but that doesn’t mean telling the viewer that they are wrong, and it should never lead to personal insults. When it comes to handling criticism poorly it’s often a combination of ignoring criticism and attacking the critic, and it usually ends with the photographer looking the same way: Like a fool wrapped in the delusion of being a misunderstood genius.

4) Let it dictate your work:

Now, I know that at least a few people are itching to hop into the comments and tell me that it sure sounds like I care too much about what other people think and how I should shoot for myself. Before you do, allow me to explain that it’s not so black and white. How you respond to criticism isn’t limited to simply ignoring it altogether or taking it as gospel — it’s a bit more nuanced than that. Criticism, and how you respond to it, is more of a spectrum. When you’re looking for criticism, it’s important to take what has been said with an open mind, then apply what you feel best suits you and your work at the time. You can pick and choose what does and doesn’t help you improve as a photographer. It can feel like a bit of a balancing act between letting it consume your work or brushing it off, but once you find that balance it can help you grow much more quickly.

5) Feed the trolls:

It’s an unfortunate reality that some people out there are just seeking to get a rise out of you. As you grow more accustomed to feedback, get more attention, and make yourself more visible, you’re bound to notice a few people who just want to see if they can push your buttons. Whether they’re bored or looking to take out their personal inadequacies on someone else, it’s important for your mental health to not let the trolls get to you. I’ve found that my ability to deal with or ignore trolls has improved as my self-confidence has gone up. It’s important to learn how to identify which comments are disingenuous or blatantly trying to provoke a negative response from you, so you can deprive them of it. I’ll be the first to admit, I’ve bitten that worm more than a few times, only to end up mounted on someone’s trophy wall (metaphorically, obviously), but it’s something I no longer allow myself to do. Some indicators can include an almost desperate level of bluntness (ex: This looks like a 7 year old’s first Photoshop attempt), a lack of detailed feedback (ex: this is the worst photo I’ve ever seen), or exaggeration (ex: This looks like it was taken with a potato)… only imagine those examples with more typos and worse punctuation. Understanding how to identify the comments seeking to lift you up and the ones trying to knock you down is pivotal to seeing criticism of your work as a tool to help you improve, rather than a weapon to beat you down. Besides, once you know which comments are from trolls, you can have the last laugh by ensuring their attempts fall flat.

6) Lie:

I don’t really know if I have to go that in-depth on this one, because I feel like it’s pretty straight-forward, on a general level. When presenting your work or responding to criticism, lying about information related to your work is one of the worst things you can do. After all, people can’t give you appropriate advice, if you’re giving false information. If you used cloning tools, applied a sky-swap, added additional elements, or changed the hue/color of something, that’s fine, despite what the purists say. Just be honest about it. When seeking criticism, we can often feel exposed or vulnerable, but those feelings will subside as you continue to grow. If you misrepresent your work, people won’t be able to give an honest and effective critique, which renders it meaningless. Furthermore, if you become known as a liar, it can tarnish your reputation, which can have a negative impact on how people see your work and hinder your ability to build meaningful relationships within the community.

The Wrap-up:

While this is by no means a holy text by which you should live, they’re things I’ve noticed over the years as I’ve grown more accustomed to handling criticism. The easiest thing to do is to ignore criticism, but as is often the case, the easiest path doesn’t always lead to the most rewarding destination. If you’re happy with the path you’re on, by all means, carry on, but if you’re looking to grow, I hope these points will help you on the journey ahead.

For the sake of length, I’ve decided to split this write-up into two parts. Part two will be about giving criticism, and it will be posted in a few days… barring any unforeseen revisions. I’ve decided to lead with how to handle criticism, because I found that I personally felt more comfortable giving criticism after I’d grown enough as a photographer by receiving the advice of others.

As always, if you have any points you’d like to add, read something you disagree with, or just want to tell me that my father smelled of elderberries, let me know!

I Picked up my First Camera in 2008, and it Has Changed my Life.

For anyone who isn’t interested in this wonderful art form we call photography, it might seem pretty straightforward: using a camera to capture an image. However, as many of us know, photography is so much more, once you go beyond the surface level. For a lot of us, photography impacts our lives in a number of ways. Since I picked up my first camera back in 2008, photography has improved my life in ways I never could have imagined. Today, I’d like to go over some of the benefits I’ve gained from becoming best friends with my camera.

A Sense of Curiosity:

One of the things I love about photography, is that it motivates me to keep searching for new and interesting locations to photograph. Had I never picked up my first camera, I doubt I would have visited the vast majority of the locations I have during my time here in Japan. I likely wouldn’t have returned to them as often as I have, and certainly wouldn’t have woken up at the insane hours necessary to capture these scenes with the best conditions and smallest crowds. My clients here in Japan often tell me that I know Japan better than they do, and as much as I’d like to stay humble, they’re not wrong. Thanks to photography, I’ve come to know Japan better than just about anyone I’ve met, foreign or domestic. Despite this, I constantly find myself looking for new books to purchase, clicking around on Google maps, or just walking around non-tourist areas, all in the hopes that I can discover some new scene to photograph. This sense of curiosity is one that has improved my experience here in Japan, and my curiosity to find new and interesting locations has only grown as I’ve continued focusing more on photography. This curiosity is the main reason I have and will remain passionate about exploring as much of this wonderful country I’ve been fortunate to call home for the past 9 years.

A Change of Perspective:

When I first got into photography, I focused on landscapes and cityscapes. In those days, I would walk past buildings without a second thought. However, after being introduced to the world of abstract architectural photography, I now walk around the city with the same sense of wonder as I do when visiting a nature spot or iconic skyline. As a non-professional photographer who works a full time job and has a young child, I’m pretty limited to when and where I can shoot, which means I have to make the most of the opportunities presented to me. With this change in perspective, I feel confident that I have at least a chance to create something worthwhile, regardless of where I am. However, this isn’t limited to abstract photography in the city. As I mentioned above, I know Japan quite well, and part of that is due to this new perspective that photography has given me. Where the average person may not see much in a particular location, as photographers, we’re wired to see that same location from different angles, focal lengths, as a long exposure, and even in monochrome. As such, when we visit a location, we often experience it in a very different way from others. I can’t count the number of times I’ve been in an amazing location and someone walks past, glances at what I’m shooting, maybe takes a selfie, and carries on with their day. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that, there is no right or wrong way to enjoy a location, but I can’t help but feel I’m usually able to appreciate locations I visit on a different level. In fact, I often regret that I didn’t get serious about photography until late 2016. I think back to some of the amazing locations I visited but didn’t really take the time to appreciate in the way I would now. Again, I’m not saying photographers are some higher level of being (I mean, we definitely are, but I’m not explicitly SAYING it), but I find myself appreciating the locations I visit in a much deeper way than I did before I starting seeing the world as a photographer. What once would have been a forest full of trees shot at 24mm, is now a playground for intimate landscapes, abstract nature, and ICM photography. Combined with my curiosity for exploration, this change in perspective has helped me appreciate more of Japan than I ever would have without my trusty 70-200mm.

A Creative Outlet:

Throughout my life, I’ve searched for various different creative outlets. I tried drawing, I wrote both for the stage/screen, performed on stage, and I shot videos. I had neither the patience nor precision required to excel at drawing, and while I enjoyed writing, acting, and making videos, none of them even came close to how photography makes me feel. There’s something special about the sense of adventure that comes with photography, and the ability to create something beautiful while on that that adventure. I wouldn’t consider myself to be a particularly talented individual, but even from a young age, I’ve always liked creating things. From scribbling together a comic book to creating an entire board game with my friend and brother, I could never resist the urge inside me to create. When I have an idea for something I want to create, in my head, it can often become a great source of stress for me not to make it a reality. I doubt that this is healthy, but I’m also certain I’m not alone in using my creative outlet as a release of sorts. While I lack many of the skills required for a number of other creative outlets, it seems photography lines up with the skill-set I do have. Along with fueling my curiosity and helping see things from a different perspective, photography allowing me to remain creative has had an incredibly positive impact on my life, particularly my mental health. While I don’t think my work is going to end up in a gallery any time soon, using photography as a way to bring my visions to life has been akin to therapy… without the awkward conversations about mother.

A Sense of Purpose:

Now, I understand that this might sound a little dark, but without photography, my life would lose a significant sense of purpose. That isn’t to say photography is the only thing that give my life purpose, but it is someone that adds a lot of purpose to the things I do in my life. As I mentioned above, photography has fueled my curiosity to explore, it’s changed the way I see the world, and it gives me a reason to use those tools to create something. Photography was the driving factor for six of my seven trips to Yamanashi, it’s the reason I cycle down to local beach for sunrise in the dead of winter, and it’s the reason I’ll stand alone in one spot for an hour waiting for the sun to set, or rise. There’s almost nothing that makes me feel the level excitement that a photography outing does. Could I have done these things without photography? Sure, but the chance to capture an image for my portfolio adds an extra sense of purpose to these things, which gives me the extra motivation I need to do them. The motivation to keep going forward when it feels like I’m going to collapse from exhaustion, all so I can make it to my destination. The motivation that finally helped me overcome my fear of driving, so I could gain easier access to photography locations. This sense of purpose is part of what motivates me every step of the way, from the moment I envision an image in my head to the moment I hang the print on my wall.

A Sense of Achievement:

To this point, I’ve mostly covered the positives that lead up to the actual taking of the photo. However, the joy of photography doesn’t end once the shutter is pushed. For me, there is almost no greater feeling than when all of the time, money, and effort I put into a planned photograph results in a keeper. That moment of finally checking a shot off of the bucket list fills me with a number of feelings, but the sense of achievement is the one I cherish the most. For better or worse, this sense of achievement is one that drives me to continue finding new and interesting locations to photograph. While this drive to obtain a sense of achievement sometimes results in colossal disappointment, the highs outweigh the lows by a large margin. Even when a photography trip fails miserably, I usually start looking forward to my next chance to try again, so I can finally obtain that feeling of achievement. Photography isn’t always easy, but it’s the challenge that makes the achievement worth it. Feel free to call me out as my own biggest fan, but the joy of holding an image I’m proud of in print form is only matched by knowing that other people like my images so much, that they also want to hold a copy in their own hands.

A Way to Meet People:

While I enjoy the time I spend alone with my camera, I don’t always have the opportunity to go out. It’s in these moments that I turn to the social aspect of photography. While it can be a little hit or miss online, I do enjoy talking to people about photography. This is one of the reasons I’ve never used a pseudonym or nickname online when it comes to photography. I want people to know they’re talking to a genuine human being… well, that and SEO, but that’s beside the point. I’ve had the pleasure of connecting with a lot amazing photographers from all around the world, thanks to sharing my photos online, photography discussions, and even these write-ups. Admittedly, I’ve always been a little passive, in this regard. I usually wait for people to contact me, rather than reaching out myself, but that’s something I’ve actively been trying to work on. However, this goes beyond the internet. Given the opportunity, I also enjoy going to photographer meet-ups. I had the opportunity to go to one in Tokyo, a little while back, and had the chance to speak to and connect with a number of other photography hobbyists from various parts of the world, and some locals. I had so much fun talking about photography, life in Japan, travel experiences, and trading locations that I stayed out 2 hours later than planned and literally had to run to catch my last train home. While I didn’t seem to click with a few of the attendees (usually after they saw my much smaller follower count) and didn’t have a lot of time to speak to the host, I’m incredibly grateful that they put the event together, and that I had the opportunity to meet so many amazing people. I hope someday that I will be a big enough name in the photography community to host events like this on my own, but until then, I’ll continue connecting with people where and when I have the opportunity.

Memory Retention:

As anyone from the aforementioned photographer meet-up might be able to tell you, I have a terrible memory. Well, that’s not entirely true, rather, I have a very selective memory. I tend to forget a majority of things pretty quickly. Did you introduce yourself to me more than 20 seconds ago? Sorry, I probably forgot your name already. Did I leave the heater on? Better go back home and double check. I’m at the supermarket, but what do I need? However, this is where the selective part of my memory comes in. For all my forgetfulness, I can remember a number of details of every trip I’ve taken that has involved my camera. There’s something about photography that helps me retain even the smallest of details from my experiences across Japan. Perhaps it has something to do with photography being a visual art form and how it connects to my memory, but when I go somewhere with the intent of creating an image, the memories of these trips remain clear in my mind, whereas the trips that didn’t involve me bringing a camera, are a distant blur. While this might seem like a small thing, it means a lot to me to actually remember all of the fun experiences I’ve had. It comes in handy when I’m talking to other photographers, particularly when sharing stories and making recommendations, and even when planning return trips to those locations. On the rare occasion that I do forget something about a trip, looking at my photos usually jogs my memory pretty quickly, even to the point where I can even recall the sounds around me at the time. While I will, with absolute certainty, forget to pack floss for every single trip until the end of time, I’m comforted by the fact that I will continue to carry my travel memories with me.

The Wrap-up

I could go on with this list, and get into how photography has helped me with both my physical and mental health, but I feel like this write up has gotten just about long enough that even I’m starting to think ‘you expect me to read all this?’ So, I’ll leave those topics for another day. While I’m not going to pretend it’s been all sunshine and rainbows, photography has undoubtedly had a majority positive impact on my life. I can’t even imagine how different my life would be, how different I would be, had I not picked up my first point-and-shoot camera, back in 2008, and had I not chosen to get serious in 2016, but I can’t imagine it being as fun and full of adventure as it is now.

As always, if you’d like to share how photography has improved your life, feel free to reach out and let me know.

Fear: How it Holds Your Photography Back

As a photographer, there are many things that we feel may be holding us back. For some, it’s gear. For many, it might be limited free time. For others, there might be a lack of interesting locations to shoot. While I have felt the same in the past, that is no longer the case as I’m lucky to live in a pretty darn beautiful part of Japan, and I’ve managed to buy most of my dream gear. However that isn’t to say that I don’t feel like anything is holding me back. While I felt a lot of external forces were holding me back in the past, I’ve recently come to notice that the biggest thing that hold me back is more internal. As you may have guessed from the title, that thing is fear.

You might be asking yourself, ‘fear of what? Spiders?”. Well, no… but also maybe, depending on the size of the spider, but mostly no. Fear of judgement, fear of taking risks, fear of embarrassment, and fear of failure are all things that I have and, to some extent, still struggle with. Today, I’d like to talk about these common fears, how they can hold you back, and what you can do to overcome these fears.

Fear of Judgement

I want to start with this, because I feel it is the first real fear I had after deciding to get serious about photography. Fear of judgement can related to a few things, so to keep things as concise as possible, I’ll break everything down.

Fear of criticism: When I think back to my first days with a camera, I’m almost jealous of how blissfully ignorant I was. Back in those days, literally everything was a work of art. I took pictures of anything and everything without any regard for technical perfection or light. However, when I decided I wanted to switch from taking pictures in auto-mode to doing photography, things changed. I went from sharing everything on social media to lurking on the photography side of the internet. What I saw shocked me to my very core. For the first time ever, I wasn’t the best photographer in the world. I was just some schmuck with a 7 year old camera, kit lenses, and no idea what aperture even was. In the following months, I binged photography content and tried to learn as much as I could. I saw my photos getting better, but I was still just a lurker, not a poster. I read the comments left on the work of others, they were harsh. I watched professionals critique work that looked immaculate, it was even harsher. I was terrified of what people would say about my work. This continued for some time, before I finally started sharing my work with other photographers and I was pleasantly surprised. They were critiquing my work, but my head hadn’t been completely removed from my shoulders. Over the following months, I shared more work, made some online buddies, and even gained enough confidence to share my own opinions on the work of others. I now feel confident to share my work on any platform, regardless of the audience, and I’m more than happy to give detailed criticism to others, when they ask for it.

How to overcome this fear: As the old saying goes, ‘sticks and stones’ and all that. While there are some people out there who fancy themselves the Gordon Ramsay of photography criticism, it’s important to remember, they’re just words. Sometimes those words are objective criticisms, but more often than not they’re subjective opinions. I recommend finding a place where you can share your work that has some sort of moderation to avoid personal attacks or unhelpful negativity. I’ve come to find that in the right places, the genuine individuals tend to outnumber the trolls. Remember, when someone gives an honest good-faith critique, they’re trying to lift you up, not knock you down.

Fear of how you’re perceived: I touched on this in a previous writing, so I’ll keep it brief. Basically, when you’re out with your camera, you’re usually in a public space, and public spaces usually have people. Those people might look at you funny, which can impact your willingness to do what you need to to get the perfect shot. Whether it be hovering with your jacket around your camera to protect it from the wind, or lying on the ground to get the best angle, sometimes the fear of how others perceive us can hold us back. However, once we remove this fear, we’re more open to getting the shot, regardless of how bonkers we look. I would also connect this to a fear of coming across as braggadocios when talking about your work in a positive way, or even sharing your successes.

How to overcome this fear: I’m not entirely sure there is a silver bullet for this one, however there are a few options. You can listen to music or a podcast to take your mind off of others. You can shoot with a friend, I always feel more comfortable looking weird when I’m with someone else willing to look weird. However, at the end of the day, no one is going to remember the weirdo they saw two weeks ago, so just do what you need to do, so long as it doesn’t break the law or disrupt others. When it comes to sharing your work, it’s a good idea to share what you’re proud of while remaining humble. It’s important to remember that not everyone will share your feelings, and understanding that is an important step towards overcoming the fear that you’re coming across as ‘look at me, aren’t I amazing’ to audience who seems indifferent. I’ve come to accept that my friends respond better to a blurry phone snap of my daughter than to a photo I’m really proud of, but it’s important to share the small victories.

Fear of Taking Risks:

The fear of taking risks can come in many forms. However for me, there are two that come to mind: leaving my comfort zone and financial risks. I think the best way to explain this, is to highlight two of the big ones I’ve had along the way.

Fear of leaving your comfort zone: Apologies in advance, but I’m going to take the scenic route on this one, but just stay with me. When I was in my late teens, I decided to try getting my driver’s licence. I won’t get into the details, but the system in my hometown is bananas and requires no formal education or practice with an instructor. I passed the written exam no problem, and felt pretty good about myself. However, the second time I got behind the wheel of a car I almost got t-boned by a taxi driver who ran a stop sign. I can’t quite put into words how much this shook me up. For all of my years being a passenger, I’d never realized how it could all turn sideways in a blink of an eye. I tried driving a few more times after that, but I could never get that thought out of my head. I ultimately decided to give up on getting my licence, and things remained that way for a number of years. For my first few years in Japan, I was satisfied with the reliable public transportation, so the thought of getting a licence never even crossed my mind. However, as I continued to focus more on photography, I began to realize that I was limited to the number of places and times I could shoot. It became abundantly clear that this lack of free movement was holding me back. My fear of getting behind the wheel of a car was holding me back. In Summer of 2018 I finally decided to enroll in a driving school in Tokyo and take a big step to improving my photography. Long story short, I got my licence, and now enjoy the freedom that has opened up parts of Japan that I never even knew existed prior to 2018. I was lucky to have the support of a driving instructor to help me overcome my almost paralyzing fear of driving, and it was one of the best decisions I’ve made for my photography. Had I not overcome this fear, a large chunk of my portfolio wouldn’t exist.

How to overcome this fear: While I’m not going to advocate for doing anything dangerous, reckless, or illegal, it’s apparent that those who are unwilling to take risks usually find themselves in fewer positions to succeed. It can be hard to step out of your comfort zone, but try to do it, even if the first step is a tiny one. Now, I know that this was a very personal anecdote, but it can be applied to other fears one might have when it comes to leaving their comfort zone. Nervous about traveling alone: start local and work your way outward. Worried about taking a leap forward: start with a small step. Terrified of getting behind the wheel a 650kg death machine: yeah, me too, but think of it as a photography tool, akin to a tripod. Getting comfortable outside of your comfort zone won’t happen in one day, but starts with day one.

Fear of financial risk: Anyone who knows me can attest to one thing: I am one of the most frugal people you’ll ever meet. I have a list of different items that are cheaper at different supermarkets around my house, I always sort my hotels by ‘lowest price’, and I always check the menu prices before going to a restaurant. One of the biggest issues with being a frugal person while also being a photographer is that they are usually diametrically opposite lifestyles. For years I would browse the web looking at photos by photographers using gear I could only dream of having in locations I had neither the time nor money to go to. Only the thing was I did have the money, I was just to afraid to spend it. I grew up in a family that didn’t spend much money, so the idea of dropping a chunk of cash on a camera, lenses, or trips was something I’d built up in my mind as a fantasy. Things remained that way until one day when it was like a switch was suddenly flipped and I bought my current camera and lenses. Clicking that ‘confirm order’ button felt like a monumental task, but it’s one I’m glad I finally followed through with. Since then, I’ve become more open about spending money when I need to. I still save money where I can, but the fear of spending money no longer stops me from doing something I can afford to do. I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to capture many of my favorite images if I’d continued being too afraid to spend money when I needed to, including the aforementioned driving school I enrolled in.

How to overcome this fear: Again, I am not recommending anyone make reckless financial decisions, and none of this is financial advice. There was a long period of time where the gear I currently own cost more than my entire net worth, kidneys and all. However, for those who do have disposable income they’re worried about spending, think of it as less of a cost and more of an investment. My camera and lenses were an investment in my photography, one that helped me take my work to the next level. That being said, you should still invest in yourself within reason and only spend what you’re comfortable with. Buy only what you need, when you need it, and try to save money where you can. Personally, I recommend buying some used camera gear. I saved over 200,000 yen on my camera and lenses by buying from a used camera shop in Tokyo while they happened to be running a sale. If you’re worried about travel costs, try to travel outside of peak travel seasons, if possible. Whether it’s a trip or gear, if you invest in yourself wisely, you’ll see improvement.

Fear of Embarrassment:

We now arrive at the fears that I am in the middle of actively trying to overcome. The fear of embarrassment is a bit of a strange one, because in my years as a stage actor, I was more than happy to play the fool. Again, I won’t go into the details, but I once played a character who wore a pair of shorts so revealing, I’m surprised nobody fainted. However, for whatever reason this fearlessness has never translated to photography. Perhaps it’s because I’m not playing a character, but the fear of looking like an idiot is one that has held me back. This fear of embarrassment can hinder your output, willingness to take chances, and even your openness to engage in social situations.

Fear of looking like an idiot: I’ll discuss this one first, because it’s the one I’ve most recently come closest to overcoming. When it came to looking like an idiot, my biggest fear was that someone would see a mistake I made in a photo. Whether it be a fear of bad editing choices or a distraction in the image that somehow evaded me, I had a habit of sitting on images for days, sometimes even weeks, before publishing them. However, the fear of looking like an idiot goes beyond your photography. It also extends into your willingness to give criticism, discuss photography with others, or even make incredibly verbose write-ups. As previously mentioned, before becoming an active member on the photography parts of the internet, I was a long time lurker. I’d type up some constructive criticism, a thoughtful response, or lengthy post only for it to be left in the ‘draft’ pile or deleted altogether. Not only did this waste my time, it was preventing me from interacting with others and, to some extent, getting my name out there. Whether it be a thoughtful critique or a wordy write up, sometimes it’s the non-photography parts of photography that help you take a step closer to where you want to be. Regardless of what it is, the fear of embarrassment can hold you back from reaching a wider audience.

How to overcome this fear: As I mentioned before, this is one that I’m still battling, in some regards, but have mostly overcome. I no long hover over the ‘post’ or ‘submit’ buttons when posting images online. However, I do still hold off on posting my lengthy write-ups from time to time, but that has more to do with my writing process than anything else. When posting online, it’s important to remember that art is a process, so you’re going to make mistakes along the way. Likewise with critiques or write-ups, you’re going to get your share of snide comments, but it’s best not to let them get to you. Go into every situation with an open mind and try to remember that everyone makes silly mistakes. I guarantee your favorite successful photographer has had a forehead slapper or two along the way. Embrace them as learning experiences, and use them to inspire self-improvement, rather than a reason to hold back.

Fear of looking desperate: In photography, like most forms of art, success often comes down to who you know - or rather, who knows you. With the advent of social media, interacting with other photographers and viewers has never been easier. However, while I am present on social media, I’ve always had a habit of neglecting the most important part of it - the ‘social’ part. Over the years, I’ve always been hesitant to comment on posts I come across, especially if that person had a bigger following than me (which is most people). I’ve never been a big fan of leaving short comments like ‘nice’ because I don’t really feel like doing so adds anything. Likewise, I’ve avoided leaving longer comments because I don’t want to seem like I’m begging for attention. On top of that, the idea of commenting on the same person with a large following’s work over and over always felt akin to me saying ‘notice me senpai.’ To make things worse, on the occasions that I did try to genuinely interact or reach out, I was usually met with a pretty cookie-cutter response, if I even got one. I know it’s likely because they are busy and get more comments and messages than have time to respond to, but I’ve always imagined them looking at my comment, DM, or email and saying ‘pathetic’ before adding me to some kind of blacklist. The cherry on to top of all of that is that I’m, at the best of times, incredibly socially awkward, so I tend to overthink my responses and over-analyze the responses, or lack or responses, of others. All that being said, through social media and photography sites, I’ve also connected with smaller artists and have built what I would call ‘genuine human connections’, despite incredible distances between us. This, I feel, is where the true power of social media can be utilized, and it’s something I’ve recently been trying to enjoy by overcoming this fear.

How to overcome this fear: As I mentioned, this is one that I’m actively working on, so I haven’t quite worked out all the kinks yet. I suppose the way I’ve been trying to overcome this is by reminding myself that it’s social media. I also try to keep my comments meaningful but not over the top. I do this by pointing out specific things I like about the image without completely fawning over it. I have also reached out to a couple of photographers with much bigger followings who happen to visit Japan on occasion. I’m yet to receive a response, but I wasn’t really expecting one because it was less about the response and more about coming out of my shell when it comes to socializing. While I’m not going to advise you flood your favorite photographer’s inbox or comments, I do recommend trying to connect with local photographers with smaller followings. It could lead to a collaboration, a new friendship, or a nice conversation. There’s a chance it could lead to nothing, but if you don’t try, it will lead to nothing.

The Fear of Failure:

When it comes to failure, I’m very successful. There’s a reason I ‘used to be’ an actor. There’s a reason I ‘used to’ make Youtube videos. And there’s a reason I ‘used to’ own a sketchbook. These are all things I’ve tried and, at some point, came to realize I just wasn’t cut out for. However, there’s something different about photography. Despite all the ups and downs, the stress, the frustration, and the self-doubt, I’ve never reached a point where I’m able to just drop it. It’s quite the opposite, actually. Photography is so much a part of who I am that the thought of not doing it is soul crushing. To be honest, I don’t know if it’s the fear of failing, so much as it’s the fear of being known as a failure. To me, the fear of failure is a combination of all the previous fears I’ve highlighted. Being judged as a failure, having wasted time and money on something you’ve failed at, and all the embarrassment that comes along with conversations about why you never ‘made it’. This fear of failure has held me back from both promoting my work and from trying to take the next step. In the past, I’ve tried my best to avoid failure by not taking the steps required to succeed. I’d taken a ‘I can’t really fail if I don’t really try’ approach. However, that’s one that I’ve recently been trying to get away from. I’ve come to realize that if I fail to reach my goals it will be, in part, due to my fear of failure.

How I’m trying to overcome this fear: No past tenses on this one, as it’s a fear I’m very much still struggling with. However, It’s important to realize that if you don’t try, failure isn’t a possibility, it’s an inevitability. Once I realized this, I had a sort of ‘I’m tired of wondering what if’ moment. It’s better to try and fail than to continue running hypothetical situations through your head until the sun comes up. Overcoming the fear of failure isn’t a singular decision, rather it’s a culmination of overcoming the roadblocks that prevent you from moving forward. Most recently, I’ve taken the biggest step I’ve ever taken. After years of planning, and fear based procrastination, I’ve finally decided I’m going to at least try running a workshop in a part of Japan that I often photograph. All of the fears I’ve highlighted have previously held me back from actually trying to go through with it in the past. The fear of judgement, ‘why would anyone book this?’. The fear of taking chances, ‘how much money do I have to spend on marketing?’. The fear of embarrassment, ‘what if no one books?’. All which leads to my fear of failure, ‘why do I even try?’. All of these are questions that still rattle around in my head, but I’ve decided if I fail, I at least want to know that I actually tried. Worst case scenario, I’ll try again next year. It’s important to remember that success in photography isn’t linear. It can happen in bursts and you can take steps backwards and forwards as you fail and succeed at various points. What’s important is how you face the adversity and self-doubt to overcome these fears. You’re more likely to fail if you don’t try than if you do.

The Wrap-up:

I just want to wrap this up by acknowledging a few things. First, I understand that this entire post was about personal experiences and how I personally overcame them, but I’ve come to find that there are a lot of people out there who may be facing similar fears. My hope is that by reading this, you can become more aware of your own fears and take a step towards overcoming them. Second, this entire write-up has been focused on internal factors holding me back. I’m well aware the for many people, there are external forces that hold their photography back. I understand that for some there are financial restraints, a limitation of free time, and a lack of access to inspiring locations. I have had and still do have some of these myself. Again, my hope for aspiring photographers to focus on the things they can change, rather than dwelling on the things they may have no control over. Finally, I have no delusions that anyone, myself included, is owed success. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been doing photography. It doesn’t matter how many skills you mastered. It doesn’t matter how nice your gear is. It doesn’t matter how much of an expert you are. For many of us success will be from a combination of quality work, good marketing, networking skills, and of course, luck. Overcoming these fears won’t guarantee success, but it’s step in the right direction.

Thank you as always for reading, and if you’ve overcome some personal fears that were holding your photography back, I’d love to hear your story!

Small Changes I've Made to my Mindset to Improve my Chances of Getting a Keeper

While I’m not going to argue that a camera and lens are important parts of taking a photo, your mindset plays a huge role in your chances of success. I always like to say that a lot of photography is ‘right place, right time, right gear, right mindset’. While we might have limited control of the first two, and we may face gear limitations due to budget, the one thing we always have control over is our mindset. In the past, due to being too rigid, I’ve returned from countless outings empty handed because things didn’t go exactly as I’d planned. As I’ve continued to grow as a photographer, and as my time with my camera has become more limited, I’ve had to make a few changes. Not to gear, nor to my software, but to the way I think while heading out or in the field. While some of these might seem like common sense, I thought it might be worth sharing some of these changes to my habits, in the hopes that it might help someone out there who’s struggling to get a keeper or to even find the motivation to take their camera out of their bag.

1) Work With the Conditions You Have - I can literally hear your eyes rolling at the idea of this being some kind of breakthrough, but hear me out. I can’t count the number of times that, in my earlier years, I’d arrived at a specific location to shoot a specific scene, only to leave empty handed, because the sunset wasn’t quite nice enough. In many of these cases, my camera wouldn’t even leave the bag. I think my original fascination with perfect conditions came from spending too much time on the photography side of the internet. Being primarily exposed to epic landscapes with epic conditions led me to believe I had to be striving to produce the same level of image every single time. However, in recent years, I’ve become a little more flexible when it comes to what I’ll shoot, which means even if conditions aren’t perfect I’ll try to find a way to make the scene work with the conditions I have, rather than the ones I wish I had. Sometimes, I’m able to shoot the subject or landscape I was planning to, but sometimes it means I have to look around and find something else to point my camera at. It doesn’t always generate a mind-blowing image, but 60% of the time, it works every time, which is better than not even trying.

2) Embrace People - We’ve all been there, you’re on your way to a location with the perfect image in mind only to get there to find the worst mammal of all deciding to simply exist in the very location you planned to shoot. How dare they. In the past, that would have been curtains for my shoot as I used to consider a shot ‘unusable’ if even a single person was in my frame. However, living in Japan, finding a location without at least a few people in the frame can be quite challenging. As such, in recent years, I’ve embraced including people in my frame. Despite how I used to think, people can actually enhance an image by adding life to the scene or by being used to show the scale of the elements within your image. These days, I more often than not find myself actually hoping to have a few people at the locations I plan to shoot. Of course, this depends on the situation, but next time you’re out and someone gets in your frame, rather than thinking they’ve ruined your perfect shot, try to find a way to have them enhance it. You might be surprised with the results.

3) Stop Worrying About Looking Weird - Speaking of people, their impact on us in the field goes beyond them ending up in front of our camera. They can also change how comfortable we feel behind the camera. I’ve been in more than a few situation where I wanted to get a shot, but I hesitated, because I was worried about looking weird. However, whether it’s contorting yourself into a position that can only be described as ‘crazy person yoga’ or using your body as a shield from the wind, sometimes you’ve just got to do what you’ve got to do. This has most often been an issue for me when shooting abstract architecture in cities. In Japan and Korea, people usually just stopped to look at what I could possibly be taking a picture of, but back home I’ve had people shout at me from their cars. However, these days, I try my best not to care how I look, so long as I get the shot and I’m not impeding anyone. People might have questions or thoughts about my weirdness, but I have responses. What am I pointing my lens at? A perfect subject. Why does it look like I’m hugging my camera on the beach? I’m a romantic. Is my butt hanging out? You’re welcome. At the end of the day, most people aren’t going to think about you for longer than a few minutes, so go ahead and look weird to get that shot.

4) Just Do It - On the topic of hesitation, I think most photographers can relate to lacking motivation from time to time. Sometimes, I stand over my camera bag and think to myself ‘is this going to be worth the effort?’ It’s a question I still find myself asking on occasion, and the answer is almost always ‘probably’. I’ve found when I’m lacking motivation that leaving the house is the often hardest part of a photography outing. In the past, the effort of packing everything into my bag, and the thought of lugging that bag around was sometimes enough to make me cancel an outing altogether. However, that feeling usually starts to subside once I actually step out the door. It doesn’t always happen right away, but when I’m out in the field, I tend to feel my creative juices get flowing and I find my hesitation replaced by motivation. It doesn’t always result in a keeper, but sometimes photography is more about the experience. At the end of the day, an outing where you come home without any photos was still a day spent out of the house which, unless you have a particularly nice house, isn’t usually a bad thing.

5) Take One More Look - Ideally, when photographing a location, we arrive having done some digital scouting to get a rough idea of what our composition is going to be. Then, when we finally get there in person, we find the composition we scouted, get our gear out, choose the proper settings, and snap away. Content with the image we’ve captured, we pack up and move on. However, in the past I’ve sometimes been too quick to leave, causing me to miss out on what might have been a better composition I hadn’t noticed while scouting. These days, I make a conscious effort to take one more look around before packing up, especially if I’m doing photography on a trip. On more than a few occasions, I’ve come across a new composition that I like more than the one I thought was perfect. This also goes for the images you’ve taken. Before packing up take a long hard look at them to make sure there aren’t any distractions your eyes missed the first time around and make sure everything is in focus. There aren’t many things worse than leaving a location proud of the shot you took, only to load it into your editing software and discover there’s an issue with it that even Photoshop can fix. There isn’t enough Rocky Road ice cream in the world to quell that feeling of regret, so just take one more look. You’ll come home with better images more often, and you’ll save a fortune on ice cream

6) It’s Worth Going Back, Even When it Isn’t - This one is a bit similar to my previous point, but has to do more with that feeling you might get in your gut telling you that you are leaving too soon. This applies most to when you’re shooting at sunset or sunrise, as the light can change the scene in ways you couldn’t predict. I can’t count the number of times I’ve packed up my bags, walked away, stopped to think about it for a minute, then left while thinking ‘it’d be a pain to go back’. This might seem like a totally normal thing to do. After all, your gear is all packed up and the location you were shooting at is like 200 meters from where you’re currently standing, that’s like 656.16 foot-long subs away. However, in recent years, I’ve made an effort to go with my gut when it tells me to go back. Most recently, on one of my trips to Yamanashi, I was standing by my car, gear already inside, when I decided to turn back and look at Mount Fuji one last time before heading to my hotel. I had that same internal discussion I’ve had so many times before. ‘it might be worth it to go back’. ‘Do I really want to drag all my gear all the way back there?’ ‘That is so many foot-longs’. However, on this particular day, I decided it was worth it, so I grabbed my gear, and headed back to the beach I had been standing on. I ended up staying for another 45 minutes or so as the light continued to change over the scene, and it was in those moments that I captured two of my favorite images from the whole trip. However, even if I hadn’t captured any more images, there’s not a much better way to spend a crisp spring morning than taking in the sounds and sights nature has to offer.

While none of these changes are a magic bullet, they have helped me increase my rate of success, and more than a few of the images in my portfolio are a direct result of these changes. I hope that you will find some or all of these helpful. If you’ve made changes to your mindset to increase your chances of success, I’d love to hear from you.

Thanks as always for reading

New Shop on "Darkroom"

Hello all,

I’ve recently opened up a new shop on a photography website called “Darkroom”. Unlike my other shops, this one is focused solely on art prints, framed prints, and metal prints. As such, I’ll only be uploading designs here that will work as art prints, rather than posters or t-shirts. This means that when all is said and done, some of the designs available on my other shops might be missing.

I’ve only uploaded a handful of images so far, but I’m planning to get some more uploaded in the coming weeks.

If you’re interested in checking out the shop, here is a link!

Thank you.

Six Things I've Learned From Selling My Prints Online

Being immersed in the world of photography has had its benefits. For example, it's helped me grow my understanding of the basics like composition, as well as more advanced editing techniques like focus stacking. It has also given me motivation to explore lesser known areas of Japan, some of which have remained among my favourite travel destinations. It's also introduced me to the works of both amazing professional and hobbyist photographers. However, one of the most important things it had left me completely unaware of is what the 'general public' wants.

Because I spent so much time consuming photography based content, I was always so focused on things that, more often than not, only avid photography lovers really seem to notice (or care about, I suppose). On top of that, I've come to realize that sometimes an 'amazing image' for a photographer may not translate to 'best selling'. That being said, I'm a nobody, relatively speaking, so keep in mind that the things I mention here come from someone with no fan base whose primary customer base is (what I assume to be) the general public, primarily found through search algorithms. Also keep in mind that my marketing has been incredibly minimal, in that my only real 'marketing' strategy is sharing my images online with links to my website easily available. Also, my website and social media are the first things that pop up when you Google my name... if you decide to do that for some reason.

As I've started selling more and more products online, I've noticed some interesting things, that may or may not apply to everyone, but I thought would be worth sharing for anyone hoping to turn their hobby into a few extra bucks, or whatever your local currency is.

I don't want to turn this into a novel, so for your reading pleasure, here is a quick rundown of my main findings.

1. People Like Landmarks - Of my current sales, every single one has included a landmark (or city skyline) of some sort. This may be a 'no duh' moment for many, but as someone who primarily focused on following pros, it seemed like you could take a landscape image in the middle of nowhere with some good conditions and convert it into a selling image. This might be true for an established photographer, but it turns out when no one knows who you are, they care more about recognizing the things in front of the camera than the person behind it. At the end of the day, Mount Fuji sells my pictures, not my name.

2. The Opinions of Other Photographers Don't Really Seem to Matter (Keep in mind, my customers are the 'general public') - I'm basing this on responses to my photos on photography websites or in photography communities. Of the images I've sold, only one of them has received high praise and two of them got a middle of the road reception. The other images I've sold are ones that I wouldn't bother sharing, because I know they'd be received poorly. As it turns out, photographers and non-photographers look at images quite differently. Just because some stinky shutterbugs think an image is bad, it doesn't mean some lovely person with impeccable taste in art living in West Virginia wouldn't love to hang it on their wall. At the end of the day, the opinion of that person means more to me, at least when it comes to the business side of things.

3. Your Opinion Doesn't Matter - I've mentioned in the past that I don't like referring to my own images with terms like "best". Rather, I prefer "favourite". Regardless of what term you use, it's been clear that the images that mean the most to me don't seem to connect with customers. None of the images in my personal top 5 have made a single sale. It's possible this is because of the experiences I connect to the images that the average person wouldn't consider. The vast majority of non-photographers don't think about how a photo was taken, just how the finished product looks. This is why I find it helpful to get opinions from people who don't know anything about photography, as it helps me better understand what the general public might be interested in, once you eliminate all of the personal connection and technical mumbo-jumbo.

4. Varieties of Images Help - This might be another 'no duh' moment for many, but I've heard people say you should stick to a single focus with photography. However, the variety of images I've sold has been quite eye-opening. Of the images I've sold, they've ranged from landscapes to city skylines to travel to lifestyle/street photography. Had I stuck only to nature photography or city photography my sales would be significantly lower. Of course, once you build a name and a brand, it's best to stick to what people best know you for. However when nobody knows you, it never hurts to be a jack-of-all trades, master of some.

5. Varieties of Products Help (or how I learned to stop being pretentious) - I'll admit, when I first opened up my shop back in 2019, I was a little snobby. I thought that I'd set up an art print shop, do some marketing, and the sales would start rolling in. As such, I set up my shops to only sell photography prints. Selling my images on things like postcards, t-shirts, or posters felt beneath me and my work. However, after a year of 0 sales, I finally came to my senses and expanded my offerings to things like posters, t-shirts, masks, etc. Shortly after that I sold my first item (a post card), and then another ( a poster), then another (a framed print), and now sales have remained more or less consistent from month to month. Products I've sold have varied from t-shirts to masks to framed art prints, but my best selling items are posters. It's clear to me that the 'average person' isn't willing to drop over $100 on a framed art print from some nobody on the internet, but they're more than willing to spend $15 on a poster of that same image from that same nobody. By limiting my images to framed prints and art prints, I was essentially alienating a large group of potential customers. At the end of the day, I don't really care in what form people own my art, only that they get a chance to own a piece of my art within their budget. I'd rather have someone own my image on a $2 postcard than be priced out of owning a piece of art they like.

6. I Still Have No Idea What People Want - Before starting to sell my photos online, I thought I had it all figured out. I thought I knew which of my pictures would be best sellers, only to find out just how little I actually knew. Years later, I wish I could tell you that I know exactly what will sell and what won't, but I honestly still have no idea. While this might just sound like I'm a clueless idiot, this revelation has actually had a rather positive effect, as it's made me much more open with my photography. I'm more willing to shoot things I'd never shot before, because I'm looking at scenes as a photographer, but also considering what potential customers might like. I'm also willing to edit and share images that would have ended up on the cutting room floor, before. This isn't to say that I only take pictures based on what I think will sell. Rather, this means that I'm enjoying taking and editing more photos than when my goal was to impress other photographers, as a result, fewer images are slipping through the cracks.

These are the main things I've noticed over my first few years of selling my prints online. I hope these help you if you're thinking of setting up a shop or have a shop but are yet to make a sale.

If you've learned something from selling your work, or selling your work to the general public has changed the way you shoot, let me know via my contact page

Thanks as always for reading.

Changes Incoming

Greetings Reader,

When I started this website back in 2019, I wasn’t entirely sure how things were going to go, but I went in with the highest of hopes. As such, I spent quite a bit of time setting up my shop for both digital and physical prints. However, after COVID hit, I was forced to put my physical prints on hold. Then in 2020, I moved to Chigasaki, which is incredibly far from the print shop I used, in Tokyo.

As a result of this, I started using third-party websites to handle my prints. Thanks to the increased visibility these sites gave me and the reputation of the shops, I’ve been able to sell more prints than I’d ever imagined. However, if I’m being honest, sales made from my personal shop on this website have been less than stellar. As such, I’ve decided it’s not longer feasible to maintain my personal shop on this website.

Effective June 6th, I will be shutting down my personal shop on this website. That means I will no longer be offering digital prints. If you’d like to purchase one of my prints, please check out one of the various shops I’ve been using for the past couple of years. They offer a range of items at a reasonable price.

Thank you for your understanding

New Digital Downloads Up, and the Unxpected

Greetings reader.

As you my have read here, a couple of weeks ago, I’ll be donating all profits from sales of prints and digital downloads to help the people in Ukraine. I originally planned to match those donations 100%, however due to unforeseen health reasons, I’ve been unable to work since the middle of March. This means my financial situation isn’t as good as it was at the time of that post. I’ll still be matching 100% of all donations made through my sales, however the limit has now been lowered to 10,000 yen.

The positive news is that I have just uploaded 4 new limited edition digital downloads, so go check them out if you’re interested. You can print these out at your local shop, and have your very own print, without paying the shipping fees from the third party shops I use.

Donating all Profits to Red Cross in Ukraine (From Now to The End of April)

I typically like to keep my photography apolitical, but I’ve been finding it hard to do nothing as I continue to witness the ongoing atrocities committed against the people of Ukraine.

Photography has given me a lot, over the years, so I’d like to use my photography to give back. I know it’s not much, but I’ll be donating all profits from sales made on any of my shops between now (March 11th) and April 30th to the Red Cross in Ukraine. I’ll also be matching all donations made this way, up to a total of 20,000 yen (I wish I could do more). So, if you’ve been eyeing a particular piece of mine, there has never been a better time to grab it.

I’m also planning to release some limited edition digital products to my personal shop, next week. I get just about 100% of the money from those sales, so they will make the biggest impact. If you have a particular image you’re interested in, please reach out via my contact page.

If you would like the donation to be made in your name, please contact me via my contact page, with proof of purchase.

If you were already considering donating directly to help the people of Ukraine, please do that instead.

If you have a list of trustworthy charities you’d also like to recommend, please feel free to reach out via my contact page.

I may extend the dates, for this, I’ll post an update if I do.

8 Signs I've Used to Track My Growth (And One I Haven't)

Photography, like all art, is subjective. However, one of the most common questions I see from people starting their photography journey is ‘how do I know when I’m getting better?’ While the idea of ‘better’ is also partly subjective, improvement is still something every photographer strives for, and there are many different ways we can assess our own growth. While this is not a definitive list, by any means, it’s the list of ways I’ve noticed I have improved as a photographer over the years. A heads up of what you will not see on this list, “You gain a large social media followers”, which I’ll cover after the list, so skip to the end if you want to see an old man yell at a cloud.

1) You See the Flaws in Your Current Work: As the saying goes ‘if you’re not your own worst critic, you’re your own worst enemy.’ When starting out as a photographer, it can be hard to see our own work with a critical eye, after all, we don’t really have a reference to which we can compare our work. One of the best ways to improve when you’re starting out is to get constructive feedback on your work from people from different walks, then using that advice when shooting in the future. However, there comes a point when you’re able to see the flaws in your own work, without them being pointed out to you. When you’re able to start understanding what both does and doesn’t work in your images, it’s one of the clearest signs of growth, as a photographer. Again, what does and doesn’t work may be subjective, but forming a more critical opinion of your own work is an objective sign of growth.

2) You Outgrow Your Old Work: We’ve all had that moment where we think to ourselves, ‘this is the best photo I’ve ever taken’. It’s a great feeling. I can’t count the number of times I’ve felt this way. I remember when I took my first picture of Mount Fuji back in 2017. I was absolutely elated, so much so that I almost knocked my camera and tripod into the lake I was standing on the edge of. However, there comes a point when your former ‘best photo ever’ starts to look more and more average, maybe even bad. When I look back at that photo and remember how I so proudly used as my Facebook cover photo and showed every Tom, Dick, and Harry, I almost want to cringe. This change is a sign that you’ve grown as a photographer. This photo, while not the worst image in the world, is below my current standard, and wouldn’t even make it on to my Instagram, let alone my portfolio. However, back in 2017, this photo had me feeling on top of the world. All of this is to say, if you start falling out of love with your old photos, don’t let it get you down, it’s a sign that you’ve grown as a photographer. Rather than dwelling, use that energy to create stronger work that continues to make you feel proud.

3) You Outgrow Your Gear: I’m going to say something possibly controversial here, so grab some chamomile tea (unless you’re allergic), a soft fuzzy kitty (unless you’re allergic) or your comfort blanket (unless you’re… allergic?), and take a deep calming breath. The claims that “your gear doesn’t matter” is an exaggeration. OK, now that you’ve finished booing, let me explain. I’m not saying that you can’t take a good photo with any camera or lens, however, there comes a point where the gear you have becomes a limitation for what you can do. For example, in recent years, I’ve started doing more and more panoramic images. My D850 makes this a breeze, as it has a built in digital level. Now, could I have just gotten an attachable level for my D5500. Absolutely, which is why I did, and it was not intuitive enough for my liking. For me, it’s like a digital clock vs an analog clock, I can read both, but with analog, it takes me a bit longer and a little more focus to get things precise. When it comes to taking panoramic images, precision can be the difference between a great image and a missed opportunity. When you reach the point where your equipment is preventing you from taking the photos you want to take at the level you want to take them, it’s a sign that you may want to consider upgrading or adding to your gear (within your own means, of course). As a bonus, this also sort of answers the question “when do I upgrade my gear”.

4) You Become More Selective of What You Shoot: Whether its yours or one you’ve borrowed, when you pick up a camera for the first time, it’s a natural instinct to start shooting anything and everything, at least it was for me. Back in 2008, I bought my first point-and-shoot camera. I remember getting home after hours of waiting in line and shooting literally anything and everything I could. I probably took more photos in my first month of owning camera than I have in the past year. While this is the best way to get a feel for the camera, to learn the basics of how light works, and practice composition, there comes a point where you start to shoot less and less. You begin to see things as “photo-worth” or “not photo-worthy” before the camera even comes out. Now, while this is subjective (one photographer’s boring scene is another’s award winning photo spot), it’s a sign that you have evolved as a photographer, and have begun to start understanding what locations or subjects you can turn into a photograph. This isn’t to say you should stop experimenting, but knowing what you can do with the scene or subject presented to you, and visualizing the final product before you press the shutter is a big step, when it comes to growing as a photographer.

5) You Gain Confidence in Your Instincts: Picking up a new camera for the first time can be overwhelming, even as an experienced photographer. However, as a new photographer, you not only have to learn what all of the fancy buttons on the camera do, but also how and when to use them. I often see new photographers asking questions about making decisions on things like focal length, composition, and aperture, and I was no different. When I finally decided to learn about the exposure triangle, I’d often find myself taking multiple photos of the same scene with slightly different settings or compositions, hoping to get something that works. However, there comes a time when you stop overthinking and just go with your gut. It might not always work out, when you start listening to your instincts, but over time choosing the best settings, focal length, and composition for the scene will become second nature. These days, I rarely go out with more than one lens. After scouting a location online, I have more than enough confidence to know which of my lenses will likely be needed for the photo I’m planning to take. Going with your gut doesn’t end there, though. As you grow as a photographer, these same instincts will help you in the editing process.

6) You Become More Selective of What You Keep: Back when I picked up my first camera, absolutely nothing was left on the cutting room floor. It didn’t matter of the images were blurry, out of focus, over-exposed, or boring, I unabashedly shared everything online to attack people’s retinas. However, as I continued to shoot and edit, things started to change. Fewer photos made it onto my computer, fewer photos started getting edited, and even fewer got shared. We’ve all had the feeling where we come back from a shoot, transfer the files to the computer, then look at some of them them with a sense of disappointment. While this never feels good, it is actually a sign that you’re growing as a photographer, as it connects to point one of this list. When you become more critical of your own work, because the flaws stand out, you start to better understand what is worth the effort of editing, and what is beyond “saving”. This isn’t to say all of the pictures you’re unhappy with should immediately go in the bin, but having the ability to quickly identify what is worth your time and what isn’t can help you manage your time a lot more easily.

7) Approval Becomes Less Important: When starting out as a photographer, nothing brought me more joy than getting praise. If no one liked or commented on a photo of mine, it crushed me. When I wasn’t checking and refreshing my activity feed on Instagram, waiting for new likes, I was jealousy-scrolling through the feeds of “worse” photographers with more followers who were getting more attention than me. However, as time has gone on, I spend less and less time caring about how much engagement each of my photos get, and I’ve stopped comparing myself to others. Sometimes, I go three or four days without even thinking about social media. This isn’t to say you should thumb your nose at the idea of getting more engagement, but at a certain point the quality of your pictures are no longer connected to the number of internet points they get. These days, the worth or quality of a photo is connected to how much I like it, or the experience of getting it. Some get more attention than others, some sell better than others, and some get more international recognition others, but none of those change how I feel about the pictures I’ve taken. Some of my favorite images in the past two years have received little engagement online, haven’t sold a thing, and never got so much as an honorable mention, but they are the photos I’m most happy with and the ones I choose to hang on my walls, and that’s all that matters. When this change occurs, you start taking more pictures for yourself, and fewer just to get attention online, which can lead to more unique personal work.

8) You Develop Thicker Skin: Admittedly, this one is more or less the same as number seven, but applies more on how you respond to negative feedback. Back when I was starting to actually learn the ins and outs of photography, I saw a dramatic increase in the quality of the images I was producing. With that, came a huge boost of confidence, and with that confidence I decided to share my work outside my personal circle. I’d mastered the exposure triangle, I’d bettered my understanding of composition, and my appreciation for light was at an all time high. There was just one problem, I’d only ever received praise, which left me utterly ill-prepared for the harsh reality I was about to face. It may come as a surprise to no one that only receiving praise for mediocre photos left me with skin so thin that it would make one-ply toilet paper blush. Perhaps this is a pathetic thing to admit but there were some comments that made me so angry they literally kept me up at night. This was a rather dark period for me, in terms of photography, as I spent a period of time simply dismissing my fellow photographers as being unable to see the genius in my work, rather than actually trying to get better. When we think of photography, we often think of time spent with our camera or editing software, honing our craft. However, learning how to handle criticism is a sign that you’ve grown not only as a photographer, but as a person. Needless to say, I get a lot more sleep than I once did.

The signs of growth may vary from photographer to photographer, but these are the ones I’ve used to track my personal growth as a photographer… albeit an obscure hobbyist. As I mentioned above, “You Gain a Large Social Media Following” is not on this list for a couple of reasons, First of all, I’m yet to gain a large following, so I can’t attest its connection to a feeling of growth. Second of all, with all due respect to the voices in Kevin Costner’s head, it’s a little more complex than “If you build it, he will come”. Gaining a following is largely connected to how much time you spend trying to get said followers. I gained more followers in my first year on Instagram than I have in the subsequent 3 years. This isn’t because my work suddenly got worse (as far as I know), it’s because I stopped spending hours and hours every day trying to get noticed. Admittedly, my introverted nature makes me pretty bad at the “social” aspect of social media, I’ve probably left a total of 15 comments on other photos in the last 3 years, on Instagram. These days, I’ll post something, scroll through my home feed for about 45 seconds, then close the app and forget about it for 3-4 days. This isn’t to say that better images won’t gain you followers, rather, better images alone won’t gain you a bigger following. I say all of this knowing that some people will seek out my Instagram, look at my a numbers and think “what does this guy know? He doesn’t even have (X number) of followers”, and that kind of ignores the point I’m making. While my social media following was once connected to my self-worth as a photographer, it no longer is. I only have my own lack of interest in the social aspects and dismal self-promotion skills to blame for my recent slowdown in follower numbers. I know from experience that some will disagree, but I think an important message for new photographers to hear is that your social media following isn’t necessarily a reflection of the quality of your work.

If you have any signs of growth you’ve noticed during your time as a photographer, reach out and let me know!

On the Importance of "Intent"

Greetings reader,

As you may, or more likely may not, know that I like to spend quite a bit of my downtime at work on Reddit. I was first drawn to the website in late 2018, by the r/photocritique sub-Reddit, and it remained a favourite of mine for a few years. While I loved giving feedback from time to time on other photography sites, I found myself spending more time on Reddit, as I felt the users there were actively seeking critiques. On top of that I find a lot of the work suffers from some of the same problems mine did, not too long ago. One word that tends to pop up a lot in my feedback is “intent”. There are a lot of rules in photography, all of which can either be followed or broken to various degrees. However, to me the difference between an image that “works” and one that “doesn’t work”, is how clear the intent behind each decision is conveyed. For me, any location, any subject, and any style can work, so long as the image has been executed with a clear intent. Now, I know, I’ve said the word “intent” about 300 times without explaining what I mean, so i’ll break it down into two categories starting with:

1) Shooting with intent - For me, this is one of the most important differences between an experienced photographer and an inexperienced one. If you talk to experienced shooters, I’m almost certain a large number of them will tell you they rarely press the shutter without a general idea of what the end product is going to look like. When I’m shooting, I more or less have the same mentality. For example, if I’m shooting an image with a black and white conversion in mind, I’ll consider the contrast within the scene, and try to use it in the most effective way. Rather than shooting an image and just converting it later, I visualize the scene in black and white as I’m shooting it. However these don’t always work out as intended and I’m never married to my original vision til death do us part. Sometimes they turn out completely different, because of an adjustment I made in post that suddenly helps me see the scene in a different way. This most often happens with my city abstracts. However, the majority of the time, even my abstract images turn out the way I originally envisioned. So, why is shooting with intent so important? Well a few reasons, which means it’s time for a list within a list.

• It helps you frame the image appropriately. One of the biggest mistakes I used to make was not considering the crop I was going to use. This meant that I would often shoot the image with no breathing room. Now, I always shoot a little bit wider than I need, which gives me more freedom to make any minor changes I might come across along the creative process. This also comes in handy, when adjusting the lines and leveling the image. Often, if you shoot too tight adjusting the angles/lines or leveling the image can result in a loss of some elements, or it can throw off the composition/framing. Shooting wider ensures you can make these adjustments and still end up with the image you envisioned.

• It helps you use the elements with in your frame appropriately. One of the biggest mistakes I see from new photographers is an image that has elements that don’t seem to have any kind of cohesion within the frame. It’s not uncommon for me to pop onto Reddit and quickly stumble upon a single image that looks like 3 separate images jumbled together, as the elements within the frame have no connection to one another. Taking a moment to really visualize the scene as a finished image can help you break it down into its components and realize what is or is not adding to the image, as a whole.

• It helps you clean up the frame. Another common mistake I see is not putting yourself in the right position to get a clean frame. Other than “intent”, the other most commonly used pieces of advice I give is “if you had taken one step to the left/right…” Scenes can be overwhelming, but it’s important to avoid needless distractions which could have been easily removed by taking a single step in any direction. The easiest way to avoid this is to take a picture, and check it in detail. This means checking the details within the image, such as the edges of the frame. On the other hand, if you intend to clone something out in Photoshop, you can shoot the image with that element already erased in your mind. Sometimes it’s impossible to get an angle that’s high enough to cut out some branches or poles popping into the frame, so understanding you can remove them in post, is an advantage of visualizing the scene as a finished product.

• It helps you consider the light. Another big problem I see people struggling with is lighting. So often I see an interesting scene, but it lacks the necessary light to make it pop. Or the light is there, but the photographer didn’t consider the contrast, which results in blown highlights. Understanding what you want your image to look like will help you consider things like exposure blending and even focus stacking. Also, if you are going for a specific look, you may want to overexpose specific parts of he image, so knowing that intent before you shoot can prevent you from having to do extra work in post, which leads me to the final point.

• It helps you with the editing process. I often hear people saying things like “save it in post”, but if you shoot with a clear intent, you don’t have to go around saving images in post, rather you can spend more time enhancing them in post. I think I can count on one hand the number of photos in my portfolio that were “saved in post”, same goes for pictures I’ve sold as art prints… wait, can you count to zero on one hand, or is that no hands?

2) Editing with intent - the second part of photography, which I already mentioned above, is post processing. Without a doubt the biggest issue I see with people learning to edit is a lack of intent behind their choices. There’s no bigger offender of this than what I consider to be my least liked editing choice, the teal sky. I don’t know who started this trend, but I don’t think we can be friends (I’m sure they’re losing sleep over that one). That’s not to say I hate all images with teal skies, but much like a “Dutch Angle”, there’s a time and place for everything. More times than I can count in a day, I see an image on Instagram or Reddit, where the person has taken a picture of a scene, and just moved the blue hue slider to the left, with no intent. To be clear, in my opinion, “I think it looks cool” isn’t what I would consider a good intent. I’m not going to be hyperbolic and say “this is the death of good editing”, but it does often ruin an image for me, regardless of the other elements. However, the dreaded teal sky isn’t the only offender (looking at you “Cyberpunk Tokyo”). While that one could be considered more of a trend-chasing edit, sometimes longstanding editing choices fall victim to this same issue. I often see images converted to black and white, for no other reason than it’s what other people do or to make it “look artistic”. When it comes to editing an image for black and white, it usually helps if the picture was originally shot with that kind of edit in mind. When I shoot in black and white, I pay extra attention to things like contrast, and in some cases I intentionally overexpose some areas of the image. So, what do I mean by editing with intent, and how can it help?

• It helps you express or emphasize a feeling/atmosphere within your image. I just finished talking about how I dislike teal skies, but the full truth is that I dislike teal skies that are needlessly added to landscape or cityscape images. If they’re used to enhance an image, for example a dystopian theme or a surreal image, then I actually like them. However, slapping a teal sky on your image of some mountains and a lake, doesn’t make it surreal, it makes it some mountains and lake with a teal sky. I often use my editing software to enhance the color the scene provided to me, since RAW images tend to lose a bit of the natural color. This means, for example, I make editing choices to enhance the elements that come with a sunset, such as adding a touch of orange/yellow to help the viewer feel the warmth of the setting sun. That’s not to say all of your edits have to look realistic, go as wild as you like, but be sure that each choice leads towards the image you intend to make.

• It can help you guide the viewer to where they need to be looking. I typically do this by using local adjustments to make points of interest brighter, or to add depth to an image. If you have an idea of where you want to the viewer to be looking, then you can use your tools to assist them. All too often, I see an image and my first thought is “what am I supposed to be looking at?” or “what’s the focus?” While a lot of this has to do with shooting with intent, a well shot image can be enhanced when accompanied by a good edit.

• It enhances the image. I know this one is about as simple as they come, but when you edit an image with a clear intent, it’s the easiest way to bring a RAW image to its full potential. I’ll add a list of questions to ask yourself below, to help with this, but the basic question you want to ask is “why am I making this edit?”

Perhaps, at some point, I’ll write a post about how you know when your photo has “failed”, as I feel it goes hand in hand with bad editing and not shooting with a clear intent. To wrap everything up nicely, there’s no guarantee that every image you envision, shoot, and edit will turn out exactly as you imagined it, or even all that good, but if you do everything with a clear intent, the chances are much greater. To help achieve this I recommend asking yourself a few questions, when shooting and editing in no particular order:

When shooting:

What is the focus of this image?

Why am I shooting this image?

What settings work best for this scene?

How do the elements within my frame enhance the focus or scene?

Are there any distractions?

What crop am I going with for this shot?

Does this location benefit from vertical or horizontal shot?

When editing:

Why am I making these editing choices?

How do these edits enhance the image?

How can I guide the viewer’s eyes with local edits?

Of course, there a lot more questions you could ask, but start with these, and you’ll start to think more critically about how, and what, you shoot. Just remember that shooting with intent and editing intent go together to enhance each other, much like pineapple on a pepperoni pizza - and that is a hill I’m willing to die on.

Thanks for reading.

Photography Slumps, and How I Overcome Them

Every photographer, regardless of their skill level, has been through a photography slump at some point. I’d even say I’m in the middle of one right now, because the rainy season came a little bit later than expected this year, completely messing up all of my planned shots. As a result, I feel like there’s nothing much to shoot at the moment as all the hydrangea have more or less wilted away, and I’m avoiding major cities like Tokyo for the time being.

I’ve personally been through slumps a few times over the years, but I’ve always found my way out of them. Here’s a list of things I do when I’m in a photography slump/drought/lull to break out of them. Hopefully you’ll find it helpful if you find yourself in a similar situation.

1) Just Go Somewhere - Sometimes, I just go somewhere with my camera, without a clear idea of what kind of images I might come home with. I simply pick a location, walk around, and see what I can see. Sometimes I come home with nothing, other times I come home with a new portfolio image. I have to admit, I live near some pretty picturesque areas, so I understand success may vary. However, sometimes, the best photos are the ones we don’t plan or even expect. My favorite city shot of 2021, so far, was a quick grab in Yokohama, while I was killing time. Had I been there 10 minutes later, walked down a different road, or been looking at my phone, I would have missed it. While some of my best work is created through weeks or months of planning, some of my favorites are produced by simply being in the right place at the right time while out for a walk. Worst case scenario, I go for a nice walk, or cycle.

2) Go Back to "Old Reliable" - Personally, I have a few locations I feel like I can always go to, regardless of the weather. I try not to photograph the same locations over and over, as it can lead to repetitive work, but going to one of my “old reliable” spots can help recharge the juices. On top of that, it forces me to see the location in a different way, if want to avoid producing an image identical to one I have in the past. Again, I have to admit, my “old reliable” location is Minato-Mirai, in Yokohama, which just so happens to be one of the best skylines in Japan, so I am a bit spoiled, in that regard. However, an “old reliable” spot doesn’t have to be an epic location or stunning skyline, it could be anywhere, anything, or anyone that helps you find your inspiration.

3) Think differently - I wrote a whole posts on my website about how I completely changed my photography style after having a baby, but I’ll write the gist of that verbose masterpiece here. Being unable to go out and photograph landscape sunsets caused me to lose motivation for a while. However, it eventually forced me to turn my attention to the ‘boring’ suburban area around me. Instead of seeing the buildings around me as buildings, I saw them as abstract subjects. This lead to some of my favorite photos in 2019 and early 2020, and helped me land on the shortlist of the 2021 World Photography Awards. I’ve since moved out of the city, so this kind of photography has become a little more challenging, as the towering structures I was using to produce my images have been replaced by surfers, temples, and shrines. However, to prevent myself from getting into a slump, I tried finding interesting ways to create images using them as subjects, which again, led to some of my favorite images of late 2020.

4) Find Other Photography Related Things to Do - Sometimes, I have the opposite problem, I go out too much, I shoot too much, so I fall behind on all of my “housekeeping” and editing. So when things are slow, I turn my attention to all the stuff we tend to pay less attention to when we’re going out and producing image after image. This includes: backing up my photos, updating my portfolio, updating shops, planning realistic future trips, editing old photos that fell through the cracks, being active in the online community, and I sometimes write about photography (as you may have noticed). I sometimes forget that there’s so much more to photography than taking photos. When things slow down, I also tend to forget how stressed I get about “not having enough time for *insert task here*” during highly active periods. Being in a slump doesn’t have to mean being unproductive, photography slumps are the perfect time to be productive in different ways. I’ve also found that looking through my old photos, talking to others about photography online, and writing about photography can help me find that spark to go out and shoot.

5) Look at Local Photography - As much as I love the work of the professionals I follow, it’s not the kind of work I seek out when I’m in a slump. That’s not to diminish the quality of their work, but epic photographs taken in locations like Iceland, misty forests, and the mountains of Northern England don’t really help me find my spark when I live in a mid-sized, relatively flat, beach city in Japan. In fact, I would say that in the past, it’s actually made me feel worse, as I would dwell on the fact that I can’t visit those locations to create something that amazing. I’ve found that looking at local photographs are more likely spark my motivation to go out and explore. The photos you look at don’t have to be from professionals, either. In the past, I’ve found motivation from snapshots on the web, images shared by locals on social media, local exhibits, even just pictures uploaded to Google Maps. I think a lot of us get caught up in the world of photography and following the work of professionals, but sometimes it’s a good idea to look a little closer to home. I’ve found I’m more productive when I focus on the photographs I can take, rather than the ones I wish I could take.

6) Just Let It Be - The fast pace life of social media can lead us to believe that we always have to be producing new and exciting work. However, sometimes it's OK to just let yourself be in a slump. In the past, I've gone over a month without even taking my camera out the drawer. Sometimes it's OK to focus on things that aren’t photography. I think a lot of people believe that by forcing themselves to go out and shoot, they’ll eventually produce something they’re proud of. However, it could also lead to increased frustration and burnout. Put the camera away, close your editing software, and find something else to do. They say that distance helps the heart grow fonder, so put some distance between yourself and photography, you will find your way back to it eventually.

Photography slumps come and photography slumps go. One of the things that determines our success is how we deal with them. I hope this list helps those of you currently experiencing a slump find your way out of it.

Photography Helped me Learn to Love Where I'm From

Greetings reader.

Photography is a funny thing, sometimes. Weather conditions can make or break a shot, which can completely alter your opinion of a location. Getting the perfect spot before anyone else can be the difference between a trip well worth it, or a waste of time. For the vast majority of the places I’ve visited, my general feelings towards them are connected to how good they were to me as a photographer. However, things get a little more complicated when that location is where you used to, and still occasionally, call “home”.

Despite growing up and spending the majority of my life in the Greater Vancouver Area, I never really had the time or money to photograph it, in depth. I’ve been to the city countless times, but almost never as a photographer, at least not since actually learning what all the buttons on my camera do. This means that my overall opinion of Vancouver was as a result of having grown up nearby, rather than as a photographer. I’ll skip the details, but that more or less meant I had a rather negative opinion of the city. I mean, you usually don’t choose to gamble on an all or nothing move halfway across the world because your life is going particularly well.

Since moving away from home my complex relationship with Vancouver had only become more completed. Perhaps it’s the nine hour flight. Perhaps it’s the hundreds of dollars I have to spend just to get there. Perhaps it’s the cost of food. Or perhaps it’s the mixed history I have with the city, but I never looked forward to a trip “home”. I looked forward to seeing my friends and family, drinking french vanilla cappuccinos, eating real poutine, and watching my hockey team disappoint me for 60 glorious minutes, but not to the city itself. Give me a choice between Busan and Vancouver, and I’d pick Busan 9 out of 10 times, despite the fact that I can’t handle even the mildest of Korean spices and to call my Korean “poor” would be an understatement. All of this is to say that I never really willingly went back to Vancouver, rather, I’ve always gone back out of a sense of obligation.

Back in 2019, I took a trip back to Vancouver, for a wedding. As per the usual, I was looking forward the things I mentioned above. However, I wasn’t really looking forward actually being back in the city itself. Typically, November is the rainiest month in Vancouver, which only added to my lack of excitement. I remember one week before my trip, I checked the forecast, with a sense of dread. I was not surprised to see that it was calling for rain, from the day I arrived to the day I left. Despite it being exactly what I had expected, I was still so dejected that I honestly reconsidered even bringing my camera at all. “I think this city hates me more than I hate it” I murmured to myself. However as my departure date drew closer and closer, something happened. Things seemed like they were starting to change, in a good way. Unlike in Japan, it actually seemed like I was going to get lucky (not like that).

I arrived at the airport early in the morning, as I usually do, grabbed some Tim’s and made my way towards the city. I had a lot of time to kill before sunset, so I walked around looking for any abstract architecture opportunities I could find, which was my bread and butter at the time. “Were these buildings always this ugly?” I muttered to myself as I walked around looking for something, anything, to produce a worthwhile image. I should add that I had just returned from Paju a week earlier, which provided me with countless abstract architecture opportunities. I’ve honestly never had so much fun getting blisters on my feet. I continued exploring Vancouver, including parts I’d never been to before, but I just couldn’t find anything. I’d seemingly hit a wall. Uninspired, half asleep, and grumpy, I put my camera away. I had to hope that sunset would give me something, anything worthwhile to shoot

Finally, it was time to head to my first planned destination for sunset. I walked to Stanley Park, to a spot I’d been eyeing on Google Maps for months, and set up my camera. The perfect location to grab a panoramic image of Vancouver’s stunning skyline. The ground was uneven, but I had to take the risk, only a panoramic image could do this scene justice . As the sun began to get lower and lower, I could feel it, “I’m about to get lucky” (again, not like that). The sky eventually lit up in a variety of colours. Finally, I felt good about a photo I’d taken, after hours of nothing. It wasn’t the best photo I’d ever taken, but it was enough to get the inspiration juices flowing. I headed back to my hotel, crawled into bed after being awake for over 36 hours, and passed out just in time to miss my hockey team lose to our bitter rivals.

The next morning, I overslept. My original plans for the morning were not going to work out. I was still exhausted from my flight but using the inspiration juices I’d gained from the evening before, I dragged myself out of bed and headed out. I could see the clouds starting to catch some color, in the distance. With time and options running out, I decided to return to the same location I’d shot the sunset. As I got closer to the location, I felt something I hadn’t really felt since about 2018, excitement for a genuinely awe inspiring sunrise. I ran to the location to ensure I didn’t blow my chance to get something truly special. I can’t quite put into words how mind-blowing the sunrise was. It was easily the best sunrise I’d ever seen, not just as a photographer, but in my life. Even being as experienced as I am, I still get nervous when conditions are this perfect, because if something goes wrong, I have no one and nothing to blame but myself. I arrived at my location, set my tripod up, got my camera level, and made sure all the settings were right. “I might actually pull this off”, I thought to myself. Just then I noticed my hands were shaking, but I wasn’t cold. I had to calm myself down, this was it, one chance, make or break. I took a deep breath and shot a few panoramic images as the sky continued to put on a show. In what simultaneously felt like an instant and an eternity, it was over.

As the colors begin to fade I finally took a moment to take everything in. I thought to myself. “My goodness, this place is something special”. I knew following the sunrise, I’d have head out of the city for the wedding. I packed up my gear, and started walking back to my hotel, when I suddenly I felt something strange. Typically, when I’m in Vancouver, I get “reverse homesick”, where I can’t wait to come back to Japan, but on this particular morning I had a feeling I’d never felt before. For the first time ever, I actually wanted to spend more time in Vancouver.

It’s been over a year and a half since that trip, and for the first time since moving abroad, I’m actually looking forward to going back. The irony of not being able to travel there now that I actually want to isn’t lost on me, but there will be no questions about whether or not I bring my gear, next time. For the first time in my life I can actually say that I’ve kind of fallen love Vancouver.

Now, I can hear some of you screaming at your screens “Jordan, it took you like 4 paragraphs to get into the photography bits! Also, how could you not love Vancouver, it’s so beautiful!”. First of all, yeah, there’s a reason I’m not a writer, and secondly the reason I wrote this is because I didn’t really get into photography until after I moved away from Vancouver, mostly due to monetary and time constraints. This was my first time being in Vancouver alone with my camera, the right set of skills, the time, and the money to actually see Vancouver as a photographer, rather than a broke college student working 2 jobs and volunteering in the city, just looking to get lucky (actually kind of like that, this time).

I think it’s important for us to remember, we can never really think of a location in an objective way, as our experiences change our perception, especially when that place is home. For me, it took over 30 years to finally see my own hometown in a positive way, and I owe that to photography, and getting the right conditions to grab a photo that might be a once in a lifetime opportunity for me. If there’s one thing I love about photography, it’s that it demands that I see the world with a keener eye and motivates me to both see more of the world and to revisit old places with a sense of newfound wonder. If it wasn’t for photography, I don’t know if I would ever feel the way I currently do about a city I once disliked so much I literally moved halfway across the world. For all of the stress, disappointment, and failure I’ve endured due to photography, it’s wins like this that make it such an important part of my life… also I actually watched my hockey team win a game, so that was nice.

I've stopped trying to impress other photographers, and I've never been happier.

Let me start by saying that I am not a professional, and I’m well aware that my movement towards to success is an ongoing process that is (hopefully) in the early stages of even bigger things to come. That being said, I think it’s a good idea to reflect on my last year or so of growth.

Back in 2018, 2019, and the first half of 2020, I spent the majority of my time, as many other aspiring photographers do, on the ‘photography’ side of the internet. I primarily shared my work with other photographers in the hopes of getting both constructive and positive feedback from both my peers, and professionals alike. My hope was that if I got enough attention from other photographers, it would somehow lead to some kind of success ( I know, some real ‘Underpants Gnomes’ logic there). While it did help me grow as a photographer, lead to a few more followers on social media, a few more people to follow myself, and a few new photography buddies to talk shop with, it never lead to the kind of success I’d been hoping for.

Then, around June of 2020, something changed. I decided to focus less on what my fellow photographers thought, and decided to focus more of my attention on myself. Since then, I’ve spent more time adding products to my shops, including images that I’d previously considered as ‘not portfolio material’. To my surprise, a number of these images turned into my best selling images. I’ve since spent more time focusing on creating images I want to create, rather than images I think would be ‘portfolio worthy’ or impress other photographers, and it’s lead to more and more images that sell.

Beyond monetary success, I’ve also found myself enjoying my shoots more as there’s less pressure to always create a portfolio grade image, and a stronger focus on creating images I want to create. To avoid turning this into a novel, I’ll write my thoughts as to why this change in thinking lead to more success, in list form below.

1) I focus more on what I want to create

As I mentioned above, I used to go out to every shoot with one goal in mind ‘create a new portfolio image’ that would get me praise from my peers (or pros). As you can imagine, this not only caused me a great deal of stress, but also limited my shooting locations and times, as conditions had to be ‘perfect’ and the location had to be ‘perfect’. If even one thing was out of place, the shoot was ruined and I left in a bad mood. That being said, I do still try to create portfolio images, but I don’t force myself to create one every time I go out. I give myself more time to create images I want to create without the expectation of outdoing myself. In some cases, this has actually lead to portfolio quality images without the stress of feeling obligated to create one, so it all works out in the end.

2) I share more work

Despite what my lackluster uploading schedule on Instagram may suggest, more of my work has seen the light of day. I’m a big believer of adapting to your surroundings, so after moving to a beach city with a view of Mount Fuji, my focus has primarily been of those things. Just this year, for the first time ever, I started photographing surfers. Being new at this subject means that I really had (and still have) no idea how best to shoot them. I do still use my basic photography knowledge, such as light and other elements, but I honestly haven’t got a clue if they’d be considered ‘portfolio material’ from other photographers, and to be honest, I don’t really care. I like them, so I share them. On top of that, it gives me an excuse to go cycling along the beach, which is never a bad way to spend a sunny day.

3) I spend less time overthinking things (perfectionism kills productivity)

Another issue I used to have was spending hours on an image, only for it to never see the light of day because some small issue caught my eye. “Ugh, the light could have been a little better here”, “Ah, why didn’t I use a polarizing filter!”, “why couldn’t I find a leading line or foreground element!”. Newsflash, the general public either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care about these things. They typically see something and they either like it or they don’t. I still take a ton of photos that don’t make the cut, but I spend a lot less time editing photos for hours only for them to end up in the trash due to trivial problems.

4) I’m focusing more on my audience/market

As I mentioned above, I used to only share my images with other photographers. Well, as it turns out, other photographers aren’t usually in the market to buy prints, unless you’ve made a name for yourself. Spending more time both creating and sharing work that the general public might be interested in has lead to me creating more selling images, and has helped me reconsider which images I take when out and about. Now, I don’t mean this to say that I’ve ‘downgraded’ my work or only focus on images that sell, I still create plenty of images for other purposes that haven’t sold a thing, but it means I’m more open minded about what I shoot, what I edit, what I share, and what I sell. At the end of the day, I get paid for my work, and some person in Canada gets a neat tote bag.

5) My overall happiness level is up (with photography)

Back when I was creating images for the singular purpose of impressing photographers, I often found myself starting to get tired of and frustrated with my photography (and other photographers - but that’s a post for another day). This was mostly due to the seemingly never-ending cycle of disappointment. Without the pressure of ‘maybe this is the one that gets me noticed!’ 'or ‘this one is a contest winner for sure!’, I’ve been able to shoot, edit, and share images without the feeling of disappointment when, like hundreds of times before, my photo is just a photo. Even without this pressure, I’ve managed to get some international recognition within the community, so again, it all worked out.

6) Freedom to experiment

Again, without the pressure of always trying to create mind-blowing world class images, I’ve allowed myself to experiment in ways I never would have before, to varying levels of success. If you can imagine, I went about 5 years in Japan before photographing a shrine or temple in a serious way, and another year after that to really start considering them as something I could produce quality images with. Since I live in an area with quite a few shrines and temples, I now consider them as one of the most interesting subjects I can use in my new images. Before getting really into the photography community, I used to experiment quite a bit, but there was a period where I was too afraid to break away from what I knew. I’ve since returned to shooting the unfamiliar…and occasionally the mundane, and I’ve never enjoyed it more than I currently do.

Now all of this isn’t to say ‘listening to other photographers is useless’. I’ve learned a lot over the years, but I’ve reached a point where I’m comfortable with my work, and don’t need to know what every photographer and their dog has to say about it. At the end of the day, if I’m happy with the work I’m making, that’s all the counts. Any success that may follow is just gravy.

Always, always, always stay out longer than you think you need to.

One of the benefits of living in Chigasaki is that I can see Mount Fuji from my bedroom window. As someone who loves to shoot Fuji, this really helps me decide if, when, and where I’m going to shoot on any particular evening. On the afternoon of September 29th, I saw that the clouds were starting to part around Fuji, with quite a bit lingering above. With just enough time to make it to one of my “old reliable” spots, I decided to head out.

I got to my spot, looking towards Enoshima Island with Fuji looming in the background. Set up my camera, took some test shots and waited for the sun to set. The longer I waited the less promising things started to look. The sun set behind the clouds first, then behind the mountains, and light above started to dim. At this point it was around 5:31pm, and with sunset being at 5:29pm, any hint of a worthwhile image looked to be at an end. It was OK, I’d been hurt by the low clouds on the before. I started to pack up my things. First my camera, then my tripod. I crouched down to put my tripod back in its case, and I noticed that the clouds in the sky started to catch a bit of light turning them slightly pink. Just a tease, I thought, I’ve seen this trick before, not enough to set my gear back up because there’s no way that could backfire, right… right?

WRONG. Within a span of a minute the sky absolutely exploded in a way I’d only ever seen in Vancouver. “F**k my dumb a** raw, I’m such a dope” (pardon my colouful language). I quickly set my camera back up. No time for manual focus, the light changes so quickly here, so auto-focus will have to do. I snapped a safety shot, which seemed to be in focus, so set back up for a panorama (what I’d originally come for). “Please one of these turn out, just one, that’s all I need to not hate myself”. The skies changed from pink and purple to a deep orange blaze all in a span of about 5 minutes. I wasn’t 100% confident that a panorama would work out (I’ve been burned by the uneven ground at this location before), so I took a few more single shots to increase the odds of something working out, they have less detail, but I have to take what I can get at this point. As quickly as the show had started, the show faded away… for real this time.

For anyone getting into photography and for those of us who have been doing it for years, this is a reminder to stay longer than you think you need to when shooting sunsets. Even if things look hopeless, stick around until after you think you need to leave, likewise for sunrise, get there early (depending on where you live the time range may change). Light can change instantly and often without warning, and it can vanish just as quickly. This is also a message to new photographers who beat themselves up for making mistakes. I’ve been doing this for over 10 years and I still made a boneheaded mistake that almost cost me a, possibly, once in a lifetime image. Had I just left my gear up for literally 3 minutes longer I wouldn’t have had to panic and rush just to get the few images I did. I got lucky that my camera’s auto-focus system didn’t totally blow it, and the high winds didn’t shake my camera as I was panicking to get a shot, but next time I might not be so lucky.

Image 1

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The Future of my Art Prints

Greetings reader,

As you may have noticed, I’ve opened both a Fine Art America and Redbubble shop. I opened these with the intent to offer additional images, on top of the handmade fine art prints I offer here. Originally, I didn’t plan to offer any of the prints I sold here on those shops, however, that will soon be changing. When I first opened my shop here, with some of my personal favourites up for sale, I knew it was going to be a challenge to both sell and produce those images. After almost a year of offering my images here, it’s become very clear that while this website is a professional way to show off my work, it’s not the most efficient way to sell my images. Furthermore, I’m planning to move further south in Kanagawa, which will put me over an hour and a half away from my print shop, making it both more time consuming and costly to produce images personally.

Over the next few days, I’ll be starting to upload those images to both my FAA and Redbubble shops, as they’ve proven to be the best way to both get more eyes on my images, which results in more sales. There are both ups and downs for these, but ultimately it’s the best choice for the foreseeable future. I do eventually hope to get my own printer, so I can produce high quality images at home, but photography printers and inks aren’t cheap, so until this can prove to be more profitable, there’s not much reason for me to do so.

The pros:

You can order my work, and should receive it much more quickly. These shops operate 24/7, so you never have to wait for me to have a day off to print anything. This makes it much easier for me, as I don’t have to work around my schedule or sacrifice a day off to make a few bucks.

I can offer a wider range of images, as I don’t have to meticulously prepare each one. This means I can edit something and have it up for sale within minutes, rather than hours, or days.

I can offer a much wider range of items, both FAA and Redbubble offer things like art prints, coffee mugs, and phone cases. I’ll likely be purchasing some of these myself, after my move!

The cons:

While I do edit every image specifically for print, it’s impossible for me to do a test print, so I can’t personally check the quality.

The prices, in many cases, are going to be higher. For my shop, I tired to keep the prices as low as possible. With these shops, I only take a portion of the profits, so while the prices are much higher, I’ll likely be getting a much smaller cut. (ex: if you buy a 100 dollar framed print, I’m only getting about 30 dollars out of that)

I can’t sign anything. One of the benefits of offering my prints handmade was that I could sign each limited edition print, and send it with a “thank you” package. When you buy a print with these shops, I just get a notification that a sale was made, so it’s impossible for me to thank you personally.

Overall, for the time being, this is the most efficient way I can produce prints. I will still offer digital images here, however with my renewal coming up, I have some decisions to make, regarding my subscription level.

Thank you for your understanding.

TIFA Exhibition Delayed until Further Notice

Greetings reader, just a short post, today.

Unfortunately, due to the recent concerns regarding the Covid-19 Coronavirus, which as recently been upgraded to a global pandemic, the TIFA exhibition in Shibuya has been delayed until further notice. White it is unfortunate, it’s undoubtedly the right call.

I’ll post updates here as soon as I get word as to when the show will be rescheduled for. Apologies for the trouble if you were planning to go.

Big News: My image to be exhibited at the Shibuya Cultural Center Owada, March 22-26.

Greetings reader,

Last year, I made the decision to start entering my image into various contests and award competitions. I’m happy to announce that a series of my images, collectively known as “United We Stand”, has won a “gold” award for the non-professional architecture/building photography category at the 2019 Tokyo International Foto Awards (TIFA). The “gold” award basically means I received an high honorable mention, and to the best of my knowledge I finished in the top 10 of the “Architecture” category. On top of this, it seems I also finished second in the “Buildings” category, as only the second place winner for the “Architecture” category is above mine, but it’s also entirely possible they don’t rank them quite like that. Anyway, mine was only one of two images to finish with a “gold” award in the “buildings” category, which is nice, considering I’ve only been doing this style of photography for just over a year.

As I reside in Japan, I’m considered a “Japanese” photographer, which appears to mean one of my images will be exhibited at the Shibuya Cultural Center Owada between March 22-26, 2020, alongside the first and second place winners, and the gold/silver/bronze winners residing in Japan. I believe this means they will be printing my image and displaying it in the gallery, and not just projecting it on a screen, but I can’t be entirely sure, right now, as I was just informed, on Thursday. If you live in, around, or are planning to visit the Tokyo area, I encourage everyone to check out this exhibition and support both professional and non-professional photographers. I’m planning to go, but I haven’t decided exactly when, for how long, or how many times, so I’ll update that on my Facebook page, when I make a decision. I don’t image anyone cares about meeting me, so I’ll probably only hang around as long as I need to take in everyone’s award winning work. If you happen to be there, and see me, come say hi.

The image I’ve chose to have displayed is one of my personal favourites “Land of the Giants”, which is among the first of my abstract architecture shots.

You can see the entire collection of my images here: United We Stand - with “Land of the Giants” as the lead image.

I have entered a few more contests/award competitions, but there are a lot of skilled hobbyists out there, so I don’t expect to win anything else, this year, but here’s to hoping this is the first of many!

Thanks for reading.

Exhibition information:

Date: March 22-26, 2020

Address: 23-21 Sakuragaokacho, Shibuya City, Tokyo 150-0031

〒150-0031 東京都渋谷区桜丘町２３−21