[ MY 2024 WORK IN PROGRESS ]
As another year winds down, I find myself dodging New Year’s resolutions like they’re the world’s worst dinner party cliché. Instead, as December settles in, I take a moment to reflect—sifting through the highlights, the hiccups, and the lessons the past year has thrown my way. What went right? What went hilariously wrong? What did my health whisper (or, let’s be honest, shout) at me? And most importantly, where am I creatively? Am I still charting the right course, or is my artistic canoe springing a leak?
With a background in commercial art and photography, I’ve embraced being a bona fide Jill-of-all-trades. And you know what? That’s not a bad thing. Fame and fortune? That was never my goal. Respect and fair pay? That’s more my speed—and for the most part, I’ve nailed it. Sure, there were a few bumps, usually courtesy of certain peers, but I’ve come to realize the real troublemakers aren’t my fellow commercial photographers at all.
No, the true villains are those all-knowing trolls lurking in photography forums—the ones who never post a single picture yet can recite lens specs like they’re auditioning for a gear encyclopedia. Is that knowledge helpful? Maybe. Necessary? Definitely not. This year, I hit the “delete” button on their negativity and reclaimed my peace. If you’re carrying similar baggage, trust me—kick it to the curb. It’s liberating.
I’ve also stopped reading and supporting a photography blog that can veer into politics. Call me old-fashioned, but I prefer to keep my photography time free of such distractions. For me, photography is a creative sanctuary, not a platform for political debate. Seeing politics on a photography blog feels as out of place as hearing personal divorce stories in a technical discussion. I already get my fill of political opinions from sources dedicated to that field. I don’t seek photography advice from politicians, so I’d rather politics stay off photography platforms.
I even started blocking a few folks on a forum I’ve been part of for decades. Life’s too short to deal with the toxicity of a tiny squad of trolls. If specs and snark are all they’re offering, I’m happy to show them the virtual door.
As a woman in photography, I’ve rarely opened up about navigating the amateur photography world, especially when it comes to interactions with certain “greybeards.” While younger photographers are generally more considerate, some older individuals fall short of gentlemanly behavior. Thankfully, most are respectful, but the ones who bully other men often save their sharpest jabs for women. I’ve been stalked and bullied by some of the best in that unfortunate arena. And I honestly do not see the situation improving until natural selection steps in. Until then, I’ll keep sharing the knowledge, blocking out the noise, and focusing on what truly matters—creating art and fostering positivity. And to those few who harbor misogynistic attitudes: you might think you can hide it, but trust me, women can sense it. Always. It’s time to move on.
Being that Jill-of-all-trades has its perks. I may be a bit of a one-hit-wonder expert, but those one-hits have built me a pretty nice life. Take my Wedding Storybooks, for example—they earned me a small fortune. You won’t see them, but trust me, they were solid. What I lack in repetition, I make up for in crafting a compelling story. Give me substance, and I’ll weave you a tale.
Substance is the elusive muse of photography bookmaking, and Brooks Jensen summed it up perfectly in his podcast Over and Over and Over Leads to Boredom. It’s a sentiment every photographer can relate to.
Originality is the spark we pursue, the force that sustains our creative vitality. But, without substance, even the most technically perfect images fall flat, failing to evoke emotion or tell a meaningful story. It’s the depth, connection, and authenticity behind the work that transforms a collection of photographs into a compelling narrative, igniting creativity and inspiring new ways to see and interpret the world.
This drive for creativity took a tangible form for me in 2024 when I began culling photos for my first book. Over the past few years, I’ve been pairing some of my standout images with haiku—a project that started as a simple writing exercise but evolved into a heartfelt passion. It has given new life and purpose to photos that might otherwise have gathered digital dust in my Lightroom catalog. With this newfound direction, my goal is clear: by 2025, my first volume will be complete and printed, a testament to the power of creativity and the stories we can weave through our art.
If you’re curious, the raw beginnings of my photo haiku are currently available on my website. The printed books, however, will be carefully edited, rearranged, and given a complete makeover. The website itself will undergo its own transformation in 2025.
Here’s to you and whatever creative adventures the new year brings. May your lens be sharp, your light golden, and your trolls forever blocked. Wishing you a Happy New Year filled with love and inspiration!
darr / photoscapes.com