New Year Part 2
The following is from Issue 6:2 of my newsletter, released to subscribers January 20, 2025...
Hello again, everybody. As I said when I left off in the last issue, I’ve done some soul searching since the abrupt ending to my art festival season last summer, and wanted to take a little more time to discuss my plans, and where I intend to devote my energy heading into this new year. Nothing super exciting, but just a bit of housekeeping that I’ve been trying to find the time to write about for a while now.
Before I get into that, however, I think the first thing that I need to announce- and I am super excited about the prospects here- is that I too will be following the trend and launching a Department of Government Efficiency. A “DOGE” I believe the kids are calling it. And pursuant to established protocol, I will be selecting at least one, possibly more, ultra-wealthy megadonor to head it. Of course the entire purpose of this department will be a thinly veiled ruse to protect elite interests and act as a shield against accountability for the director and their peers. But hey, it’s 2025. We can say the quiet parts out loud.
Bidding will start at $250 million, just to discourage any riff raff.
What a world…
Anyway, back to reality. And my photography.
2024 didn't go as I'd hoped in a business sense, but it may have been exactly what I needed. Some of the experiences I had at last summer's art festivals really didn't sit well with me, and forced me to finally look within and ask myself what it actually is that I want to achieve with my work.
I've long spoken about trying to "make it" as a professional photographer, but what's that even mean? In simplest terms, I wanted to be able to make a living selling my work. I wanted to be able to spend most of my time out in nature doing what I love, and saw the prospect of drawing a sustainable income through photo sales as a way to provide myself the freedom to do so. And as my business evolved, the festival circuit and fine art world was kind of just the path that opened up before me.
But it hasn't been working. Don't get me wrong, I love doing art shows, but some that I've been exhibiting at lately, especially in resort towns out west, haven't been good for me. I've felt too much inadequacy not being in a financial position to upgrade to a more competitive booth display, and from being looked down on by other artists.
And even beyond shows, there's also this weird ambition- which I don't believe is a necessity in the business, I think it's more about finding the right people- but there's a tendency for a lot of working fine art nature photographers to want to cater to a very wealthy clientele. I've seen and heard many boast about traveling cross country to meet with a client, being asked to wear these shower-cap looking booties over their shoes so they wouldn't dirty mansion floors (seriously, I can think of multiple well-known photographers I've seen post pictures of this on social media in recent years- posing in a fancy home wearing plastic shoe covers like it's some damn badge of honor...) and pulling in tens of thousands of dollars in a single sale. There's a lot of schmoozing involved, and an implication that this is kind of the pinnacle of success in fine art photography.
But that's not me. At all. And other than being able to afford the time to focus on creating new work, it has absolutely nothing to do with what I want to achieve, either.
What I really want to accomplish through my photography is what I've said all along. I want to connect with like-minded people. I want to share the beauty that I'm fortunate enough to experience. I want to advocate for our natural world and inspire people to enjoy and protect it.
I've been too caught up on that whole "professional" title. Not in a sense that I've ever wanted to hobnob in the world mentioned above (gross) but more in having tunnel vision toward thinking that making a full time living from the festival circuit was my only means to an end. And perhaps letting that cloud my view a little bit about what my "end" goal really is.
My business is still important to me- it is still a dream to continue to pursue, and such an honor to think that people want to display my work in their homes. It really is. I feel very humbled to have my photography appreciated by people from all backgrounds and walks of life. This can mean a large print displayed prominently as a centerpiece on someone’s wall, a card sent to a loved one, a calendar on your refrigerator door, or simply a kind compliment online. It all means a great deal to me.
But far more important than the sales are relationships built along the way. If we can connect on a human level in this crazy world, especially in shared appreciation of nature or another important cause- and one of my photos or something that I've written can help to facilitate this- that's what really matters to me. This is what I want to achieve more than anything through my work.
And I don't need to exhibit at a premier festival every weekend to do that. Nor do I need to attach the term "professional" to my name.
That's all I really know at this point. I’m still trying to figure out where to take things from here. I do want to keep doing some shows, but I think for now I need to step further back and commit much more of my time to those deeper ambitions mentioned above. The connections, the inspiration, the advocacy and the creation. So this year I'm only going to take part in a few events where I have special ties to the community; venues I know will be personally fulfilling- and those are all in Iowa.
I've already been accepted to both the spring and fall shows at Good Makers Market in Tipton, and will be applying to the Iowa Arts Festival (Iowa City in June.) I want to do at least one show in Davenport as well. The September Beaux Arts Fair would be my preference, but I reached out to organizers the other day and they’re still undecided on hosting a fall fair this year. I plan to apply to Riverssance, and if Beaux does happen, I’ll try to find a way to swing both. That’s all I'm planning at the moment.
Beyond this, I will be focusing on my website and trying to build a better online presence, and creating new work with a heavy emphasis on photographing Iowa, Utah and Wyoming. It's likely I'll pick up more shows again in the future- and I definitely want to try some like Whitefish and Jackson Hole again- but I feel this is a healthier balance and a good place to build from where I am right now.
Another thing that I've touched on a bit before are my writing aspirations. I'm almost hesitant to mention this because I've done so, and have even spoken of specific projects previously, but I've yet to see much through. It's hard because writing has been a lifelong ambition of mine and it's something I've really come to struggle with in recent years. Bouts of depression have left me in a fog, unable to focus and hard pressed for motivation. When I do try to write, the process is painstakingly slow. (I’ve been trying to get this newsletter finished and sent out for over a week...) Working a low wage labor job doesn't help- the long days zap me of free time and energy, and I have to take every minute of overtime I can get just to survive. That's something else that I'd always hoped making a living off my photography could provide- time and freedom to really devote myself to writing too. But it just isn't in the cards right now.
I do feel like it's time to start pushing myself a little harder though. I keep waiting for my mind to clear or schedule to be more accommodating, and the years are flying by. I feel like it's time to at least get in a better practice of writing consistently, and I think a way of doing so will be in attempting shorter works. I might not be in a good place to tackle a novel right now, but if I can at least get in the habit of writing more frequently- even if just for the sake of doing so- perhaps I can break through some of my mental blocks and inch toward bigger goals. Hopefully you'll see this put to action with a little more regularity in these newsletters again, and also with an increase of personal stories and essays on my blog.
Something I will confess is I am really struggling with confidence when it comes to writing right now. I have a bad case of imposter syndrome, I don't think most people will find me interesting, and I don't have a lot of faith in my own mental capacity. This is all on me- and I'm not asking for anyone to convince me otherwise- it's just something I'm trying to work through.
I've also developed a fear that people will interpret anything I put out to be ego driven. I draw very heavily from personal experience in my writing- it's just where I find my voice and a style that comes most natural to me- but I worry that people will assume that all I want to do is talk about myself. This couldn't be further from the truth. (Says the guy who’s literally in the middle of writing an entire newsletter talking about himself. Geez…)
The reality is though, I have two primary motivations when it comes to sharing personal accounts. The first is to tell about experiences others might not get to have. One of the most fulfilling writing exercises of my life came in keeping an online journal that chronicled my five-month long hike on the Pacific Crest Trail, many years ago. I had people from all over the country following along and eager for updates, and many reached out to say that while they would never do such a thing personally, they loved experiencing the trail through my stories. I’m not exaggerating a bit when I say that being able to share that experience became a defining part of the experience itself, and I still cherish having been able to include so many people in this way.
The other thing that I always hope my writing might do is evoke emotional resonance or trigger memories within my readers as they find parallels in their own lived experiences. I was actually thinking about this a lot the other day when a random childhood memory popped up. My initial thought of retelling it in a blog post was almost immediately chased away as I chastised myself, thinking “Why would anyone want to read that?” But as I thought about it further, I realized that my deepest intent wasn’t just to share my own story, but to lead others down their own memory lane so they simply might enjoy a moment of sentiment and nostalgia as I had.
That’s basically it, in a nutshell. These are the reasons that I want to write. Well, these and in advocacy for the issues that I believe in. But when I feel it is a calling, these are at the heart of where I find purpose. And again, I’m not sharing any of this seeking attention or pleading for encouragement. It isn’t lost on me at all that many of you have reached out over the years, and some in recent days in regard to my previous newsletter, telling me that you enjoy what I write. I do absolutely take that to heart too. It’s been enough to help keep me from giving up all together- and even countered some of the criticism, which I also receive from time to time.
As I say though, I have an ongoing battle with my own shaky confidence and insecurities- which I know to be largely self-inflicted, but that doesn’t make it any less real- and sometimes being open and vulnerable about this is kind of what I need to help work through it. It’s like getting these thoughts out in the open, and turning them to words instead of masked inhibitions trapped in my head, allows me to take a breath and say “Okay, that’s out there. At least people can know where I’m coming from…” It feels like a necessary step in a process that frankly I’m still trying to figure out. But I do need to find ways to move through it if I’m ever going to advance as a writer.
Plus, I always promised that this newsletter would provide a real and raw behind the scenes look at my creative process- so there you have it. Neurotic as I might be.
Okay, I said last time that I want to keep these newsletters shorter, and I will. I want to try to provide depth and substance, but not take up too much of your time. I’ve already surpassed my target word count with this one and still have a few things I wanted to cover- topics that I’ve been wanting to address for a while now. So since I already parceled it out from the last issue, I think I might as well split it up again and send the rest in a third new year’s edition later this week. (Famous last words… but I swear, I do have it almost all written now!) I hope you’ll all forgive the sudden frequency in emails.
There is one final matter of importance that probably shouldn’t wait though. Today as we all know was the inauguration, and I haven’t been shy in expressing my opinion on Trump. As I said in my pre-election newsletter, I also recognize and respect that I have a mixed audience here. This is a very solemn day for some of us, and I’m sure some of you are feeling hopeful too. I do plan to write more about the threats of this time and how we still need to come together (likely on my blog- I’m not going to “stay in my lane” as some would suggest- however I don’t want to turn this into a political newsletter either.) But my message tonight is especially for those who are sick right now with concern.
I’ve been pretty up and down since the election. And before even. I was actually starting to feel really optimistic when Biden stepped out of the race, and thought with the Harris ticket we had a chance to progress as a society in a lot of ways. It felt like a brighter future was finally within reach. So those November results really hit me like a punch to the gut. The world again became very cruel and dark.
One thing I’ve come to recognize in myself, especially when times get hard, is the tendency to become very withdrawn when I get down. Around that same period I’d been starting to feel a little bit of a creative reawakening, and was excited about some photo and story ideas running through my head. But then all of a sudden it was like a door slammed shut and all I could think was “What’s the point?”
Make no mistake. There are many challenges, injustices and troubling realities ahead. It’s time to brace ourselves, and get ready to fight like hell for the things that we care about and believe in. But in doing so, it’s dangerously easy to assume the mindset of simply trying to survive these next four years. Easy to close parts of ourselves off, grow apathetic, or steel our resolve with narrow focused rage.
Don’t let that happen. Because this period isn’t just a presidential term that we now must endure. These are four years of your life. Four years that you’ll never get back. Four years that you can step up, get involved, and work to protect the values that you know in your heart to be true. And I hope that you do. But don’t get so consumed in worldly troubles that you lose sight of the simple pleasures along the way. Don’t feel like you can’t also pursue the little things that make you happy. Don’t set aside your passions, and don’t close your eyes to the beauty and kindness that abounds.
No matter what happens, don’t let that bastard steal your joy.
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