January 4, 2026

Stand of Trees, Maui

 

Recently, a woman from Australia wrote me and said, “Here I am, almost 84, and still have neither time nor respect for silly restrictive rules of any description.”

She made me think about how, when you get older, you have less tolerance for distractions and silliness, or “noise” as I call it. I’ve found that as I’ve aged, so many things don’t matter to me anymore. For example, I have no desire to have thousands of followers so I can call myself an “Internet Influencer.” I don’t care if someone doesn’t like my work. And if I’m never recognized by the art establishment, who cares?

Today I’m feeling brutally honest, and I thought I’d give you my tips on how to be happier with your photography, and it’s pretty simple: just follow these 10 steps:

1) Quit reading articles that promise that you can be happy if you do these ten things! There are no easy answers, and almost everyone is trying to lure you in with headlines like this so that they can make money in some way.

2) Find your Vision! If you’ve been putting it off because the concept seems too vague or because doing the work is too hard, please commit to starting today. Nothing good comes easy, and finding your Vision is very hard…but nothing will improve your photography or your happiness more than finding and following your Vision.

3) Take a break from social media. Looking at other people’s photography isn’t going to make yours any better. Social media breeds imitation, jealousy, and discontent. “Likes” are not a gauge of how good your work is. The temporary dopamine rush you get from them will quickly diminish, and you’ll soon be looking for your next high. Social media is addictive, it shortens our attention span, and it homogenizes us into this giant, uninteresting lump of photographic goo.

4) Answer the question: Why do I photograph? Are you photographing to become famous? To make money? As a hobby? To express yourself? Be brutally honest about your motives, because only then can you move to the next step.

5) Define what success means to you. Once you understand why you create, then you can decide what success looks like for you. For years, I chased the unspoken definition of photographic success: To be famous, to have my work in a big-name gallery, to sell my prints for big dollars, and to have a book published. As I started to achieve some of that “success,” I realized that it wasn’t fulfilling or lasting, and that’s when I defined success for myself.

6) Quit reading and watching “how-to” articles and videos. Instead, use your time to photograph more. If you want to be a better photographer, then you must photograph more often; it’s a pretty simple formula.

7) Photograph where you’re at. You don’t have to photograph famous locations, National Parks, or foreign lands; your backyard will do just fine. I regret that I have contributed to the subtle and pervasive social media message that great images come from great locations.

I think of Paul Caponigro’s series of fruit in a bowl, photographed in his kitchen…simple and sublime. Edward Weston, in his final years and confined to a chair with Parkinson’s, said that he ought to be able to look down at his feet and find something interesting to photograph.

8) Learn to critique your work for yourself, spend time with your images, and analyze them. What do you love about the image, and how can you emphasize that? What don’t you like about the image, and how can you minimize that? Let it sit for a week, and then ask yourself those same questions again. And do it again in another week. And again and again. Keep repeating this cycle until no more changes are made; that’s when you know it’s done.

Sure, it’s easy to ask someone what you could’ve done better or differently, but that’s just their opinion, and you really don’t learn by listening to others’ opinions. If your images are a form of self-expression, then someone else’s opinion is irrelevant. Your opinion is the important one.

9) Learn not to care what others think about your work! (both the criticism and the praise). My continual goal is to be like Georgia O’Keeffe, who said, “I decided to accept as true my own thinking. I have already settled it for myself, so flattery and criticism go down the same drain, and I am quite free.”

Yes, it’s a hard thing to do, but as you find and follow your Vision, you will gain confidence in what you’ve created and can withstand the fickle winds of public opinion.

10) Photograph what you love and how you love to photograph it. Don’t let rules, common wisdom, judges, teachers, mentors, and social media determine your course. Find and follow your Vision and create what you love.

And here’s a bonus tip for those of you who have a paid subscription to my newsletter: (fyi: there is no paid subscription)

11) Create honest work. I define that as work that was created from my Vision; the idea was mine (not borrowed or stolen). It is work I created with no thought of how others would receive it, and it is work I love regardless of how others feel about it.

Do you want to be happier with your photography? Quit reading articles like this one and go out and photograph!

 

November 12, 2025

When I was challenged to find my Vision over 20 years ago, I thought Vision was about photography. But as I found and followed my Vision, other changes came about in my life. I was not just discovering how I saw, but I was changing as a person. I was questioning more, I was examining my beliefs, I was becoming much more independent in my thinking.

At some point, I realized that Vision was not really about photography; it was about life! It was not just seeing for myself, but thinking for myself.

I threw off the shackles of groupthink, of following the crowd, of thinking the way I had been taught, and started questioning everything. I stopped following blindly, examined the rules and norms, and stopped trying to fit in. I defined success for myself. I reexamined everything I thought I knew and believed to be true.

The result: finding my Vision changed not just my photography, but also my life.

And then, when John Barclay and I held our first two Vision Retreats, someone at each event commented that Vision was not just about photography but about how to live your life. Those comments have again brought this idea to the forefront of my thinking.

And here’s another thought about Vision that surfaced a couple of days ago: John said something to me as we were recording our YouTube show. We were talking about my definition of “honest work,” which is:

  • It was my idea (not borrowed or stolen)
  • It was created for myself, with no thought of how others would receive it
  • It was created from my Vision
  • It is work that I love, regardless of what others think of it

 

John said that, if a person were to create honest work following these four points, it would go a long way toward finding their Vision.

That was a good thought, and he’s right.

Vision is not about photography; it’s about how to live your life.

 

August 27, 2025

“The Print” by Time-Life

 
When I was a young boy my window into the photographic world was books, and there was one book that I really loved: “The Print.“ It was one of several in the Time-Life photography series that introduced me to the great masters of photography.

For 170 years, the print was the only way one could view a photograph. If you didn’t print it, it couldn’t be seen. Some even would argue that if you didn’t print it, it wasn’t yet a photograph.

The exception to prints were slides, which my grandfather used to torture us with his long vacation presentations on his Kodak Carousel projector: “And this is another photo of Old Faithful…”

Even at the beginning of the digital era, people still printed their photographs by going down to Walgreens and using the Kodak Kiosk. And later we had color inkjet printers in our homes so that we could print the images ourselves.

But then came along the iPhone and the iPad. We could now view any image from anywhere in the world, at any time and at any place, from bedroom to bathroom! It opened up the world to every photographer…and put one more nail in the coffin of the print. Who needs to print?

And while viewing an image on a digital screen has many, many advantages, it’s not as personal as viewing a “real” print.

Digital viewing generally means small screens. And because there are billions of images available, we can scroll through hundreds per sitting and spend only seconds on each one: scroll, scroll, scroll, like, like, like, faster, faster, faster.

Viewing an image on a digital screen pales in comparison to holding and viewing a “real” print.

I can’t tell you why that’s true, and I have wondered if I’m just being nostalgic because I grew up in the era of “the print.” But I don’t think so and here’s why: when I speak to high school students who grew up with digital images, and show them “real” prints…something interesting happens:

They hold them.

They slow down.

They look longer.

They look closer.

They contemplate the image.

And they express surprise at how different a print is.

There is something wonderful about a “real” print. Yes, I love the accessibility and reach of a digital image, but I’d far prefer that you hold one of my prints in your hands.

That’s the reason I give a print away with each newsletter.

 
And here’s another thought about prints: I heard a woman reminisce about how she would sit on her grandmother’s lap and look through a family photo album that covered three generations. That caused the woman to wonder what it would be like when she was older and her granddaughter sat on her lap to view her photos.

She imagined the little girl opening the photo app on her iPhone and asking: “grandma, what’s this?” And she would answer: “this is a meal I once ate.” And the little girl would go to the next photo and ask: “what’s that?” And she would say: “this is a pair of shoes I was thinking of buying.”

A single family album could hold the memories of three generations, while our iPhones can hold thousands of meaningless images that might cover only three years. And when we are gone, what will become of the tens of thousands of images that reside on our electronic devices or hard drives?

My guess is that they will never be viewed.

But an album of family photographs or a collection of the images that you have created and love…I think those will have a chance of surviving and being appreciated.

Keep your images alive: print them, hang them on your walls, give them away, and fill your albums and books with them.

 

.

.

July 17, 2025

I began my photographic life, thinking of myself as a photographer who documented, and showed others what I saw with my eyes. Documenting came with a rigid set of rules and the biggest sin I could commit was the “M” word: manipulate. As a photographer I judged my work by how well others liked it.

In the next phase of my photographic life, I considered myself a fine art photographer. Thanks to a mentor, I was encouraged to go beyond documenting and to put some of “me” into my images. I discovered my Vision and instead of photographing through my eyes, I now created images through this Vision. But, I was still creating for others and measured my success by likes, wins and sales.

In the third and current phase of my photographic life I now consider myself a self-expressive photographer: I am not documenting and I’m not creating for others. I measure my success by how I feel about my images.

My images are, as Rick Rubin expressed, my diary entries. They record how I feel and how I see the world. They are not trying to communicate to others, they require no explanation, and I am the only judge of the work.

I’ve learned something from each phase of my photographic life. As a photographer I’ve learned skills, as a fine art photographer I discovered my Vision, and now as a self-expressive photographer I am learning to create more personal and reflective diary entries.

Will there be a fourth phase in my photographic life? Who knows, with each phase I never dreamed there’d be another. But with growth comes change, and with change comes growth.

It’s all a continuum.

Cole

November 9, 2024

I had created Harbinger No. 60 just before I published my last newsletter, and even though I knew better, I rushed the image so I could include it in the newsletter.

Big mistake.

My normal procedure is to process it, let it sit for a few days, then look at it again and make more changes. I repeat that process over and over and over again until I no longer make any changes, and that process sometimes can take a month.

Only then do I know that the image is finished and ready to be released.

But in my haste to get it into the newsletter, I only made two processing passes. As I included it, I had this subliminal feeling that there was something wrong with the image, but I pushed that thought into the back of my mind, rationalizing that the image was “good enough.”

Then I showed the image to a friend who kept looking at the bottom of the image, and then he asked if the ground was right below the crop line. At that moment I realized what was wrong with it; it was poorly cropped.

It just felt wrong.

And so I re-cropped it to include the ground, and that made all the difference in the world! I hope that I would have figured this out eventually, if I had followed my normal routine of revisiting the image over and over and over again.

But I was in a hurry.

And so I’ve learned (once again) to slow down, take my time, there’s no rush.

      

What a big difference such a little thing like a crop can make!

May 7, 2024

 
 
A friend recommended that I watch “At Eternity’s Gate” which is the story of Vincent van Gogh, which is magnificently played by Willem Dafoe. There is so much good to be said about this film, but I want to focus on just one particular aspect of the story, which relates to a thought that keeps rolling around in the rock tumbler of my mind.
 
The painter Paul Gauguin features prominently in this film; he was a contemporary, a friend and roommate of van Gogh, and at that time the more successful of the two. Gauguin tries to help a struggling van Gogh by offering some advice:
 
  • You paint too fast!
  • Work calmly, slowly.
  • Think about the surface and how the paint will set on it.
  • You overpaint and the surface looks like it’s made out of clay.
  • It looks more like sculpture than painting!
 
But Gauguin’s approach to creating was so very different from van Goghs, and his advice is rejected.
 
“Vincent van Gogh Painting Sunflowers” by Paul Gauguin
 
What worked for Gauguin, did not work for van Gogh. And what worked for van Gogh, would never have worked for Gauguin. And yet their respective approaches worked perfectly for themselves.
 
Which brings me to the thought that keeps popping into my mind: there are so many different philosophies and approaches to creating art, which is the “right way?”
 
I feel so very strongly about my Vision approach to creating, and when I hear someone talk about a different approach, I think: they have it all wrong! And then if I admire their work… that causes me to pause and try to understand how I can have the right answer, and they have the right answer too?
 
“Paul Gauguin” by Vincent van Gogh
 
Was Gauguin’s approach right or was van Gogh’s? Clearly both were right…for themselves.
 
Imagine what might have happened if van Gogh had acquiesced to Gauguin’s advice simply because he was “more successful.” He may never have created “The Starry Night” or “Sunflowers” or “van Gogh Self Portrait.”
 
 
Instead, van Gogh did it his way (I think he actually credited Frank Sinatra’s song “My Way” for the inspiration.)
 
And so what lesson do I take from this story? That we must each find our own “My Way” and not follow another’s approach simply because they are successful, have a degree or because we respect their work. If their approach works for them, then there’s a good chance it will not work for you!
 
Find your “My Way.” Listen to the different approaches and gravitate towards that which resonates with you. Then take those ideas and make them your own.
 
Colefucius say: they who walk in another’s footsteps,
never finds their own path.
 
 

April 20, 2024

 
 
Auschwitz No. 4
 
I love to talk about how Vision helps me to create an image, not documenting what I see with my eyes, but following what I am seeing inside my head. And I’ve recently been thinking about how Vision is also used when we view an image.
 
I first noticed this when I created Auschwitz No. 4 above. I had decided not to include any “living” persons in this series, but this image stuck with me, and I decided to include it. I remember having strong feelings as to what this image meant, this living man amongst the ghosts, but I never tell people what an image means to me. It seems to me that the image ought to speak for itself.
 
But over the years, as I’ve heard others express what this image means to them, I’ve been surprised to hear over a dozen different interpretations…and none of them matched mine. It seems to me that Vision not only guides in the creation of an image, but it also shapes the interpretation by the viewer.
 
Melting Giants No. 21
 
I saw this again when I created my “Melting Giants” series. What I saw and felt was different than what most other people saw and felt. I once heard someone say that if others did not “get” your message, then the image had failed.
 
I disagree. I think that my purpose in creating this series was not to communicate something, but to express something. And I’m glad that others see the images through their own life experiences (their Vision), even if they see something different than I do.
 
And that’s why I don’t talk about what I was trying to say, or what an image means to me. Once I have created the image, my job is done, and now it’s up to the viewer to see what they see.
 

 

 

March 7, 2024

Self-Shadow, Death Valley Dunes
 
I suspect we would all like our work to be more popular, but what would you be willing to do to achieve that popularity?
 
  • Would you be willing to find images that are popular on social media, and then imitate them?
 
  • Would you be willing to create images using fad techniques, just because they are currently in fashion?
 
  • Would you be willing to create images that you didn’t love, because others loved them?
 
What would you be willing to do? How much do you want to be popular and how popular do you want to be? And if you are able to achieve a large audience, does that mean your work is better than someone with a small audience?
 
Here’s a truth uttered by the great pianist, Artur Rubinstein: “Nothing in art can be the best. It is only different.”
 
There is no good or bad art, just different art, and if you are creating images from your heart, from your Vision and with Passion, you will find your audience. It may be a small audience, but it will be a sincere one.
 
By the simple fact that I create with photography, greatly reduces the size of my audience. And by creating in black and white, reduces it further. And then there is my style of black and white, which reduces it even further still. That is the natural consequence of creating work that I love, but may not be widely popular with others.
 
So, how do I enlarge the size of my audience?
 
Self-Shadow, I’m on the left
 
Well as I see it, I have two options: create what the audience loves…or don’t.
 
And I’ve chosen “don’t.”
 
It’s a part of my philosophy of “creating honest work.” You do what you do, and you love what you create, and you’re happy with the audience you find…even if it’s tiny!
 
Why? Because popularity is overrated. What does it get me? Will I live longer if I’m popular? Will it get me into the best restaurants? Do I get to associate with a “higher class” of people?
 
No.
 
And even if it did get me all of those things, I would not trade popularity for the personal satisfaction that I receive when I create an image that I love.
 
Self-Shadow, DaVinci
 
It seems that so many of the questions that I find myself asking these days, leads me back to this basic one:
 
Why do I create?
 
For too many years I created for the accolades, and I was dissatisfied with my photography. I wasn’t creating what I loved, but rather what I thought the audience would love.
 
I have found that true satisfaction comes from within. It also has the extra benefit of giving you confidence and the ability to withstand criticism, and praise. I love how Georgia O’Keeffe said it:
 
“I decided to accept as true my own thinking. I had already settled it for myself, so flattery and criticism go down the same drain, and I am quite free.” 
 
That’s how I feel when I follow my Vision and create what I love: free.
 
 
 
 

October 28, 2023

 

John and I recently posted a YouTube video in which we talked about the sales pitches we see in photography:

“Follow this one rule for better photographs.”

“The three key steps to becoming a better photographer.”

“Ten things to improve your photography.”

“Do this ONE thing!”

Each hyperbolic statement is designed to get you to read the article and perhaps sell you something.

Then John asked if I had any such formulas (of course assuming that I did not). But “boy howdy” was he surprised when I told him that I did!

I have “Five Steps to More Meaningful Photography” and I GUARANTEE that they work! Here they are:

  1. Question your motives.
  2. Find your Vision.
  3. Find your Passion.
  4. Critically analyze your own work.
  5. Be true to yourself.

More meaningful photography has nothing to do with your equipment, how sharp your images are or what rules you follow.

More meaningful photography takes a lot of hard work, self-analysis and complete honesty.

But it’s worth it.

Click here to watch this episode of “The Cole and John Show.”

July 9, 2023

 
Learning to see for yourself? Who else would I see for?
 
Well for many years I did not see for myself. I saw through the lens of Ansel Adams, through the lens of my mentors, through the lens of rules. I saw things how I was told that I should see them, by many well meaning people who wanted to help me create better photographs.
 
And sometimes, when I did see for myself, I was gently reminded that I shouldn’t do certain things like “center the subject“ or “block up my shadows.”
 
And so to win approval, likes and praise… I learned to conform and to see like other people. All of my early experiences taught me that the more approval an image received, the better the image was.
 
And even though I went along willingly, there was always a part of me that was unsettled. Something about this just didn’t feel right.
 
Often the images I loved the most, performed poorly in the eyes of popularity. And the images that were mundane to me, performed the best. But I was learning to get more “likes” and that’s what was important, I told myself.
 
But going down this path did not make me happy. In fact, the more I did it, the less happy I became. I was “winning“ but I felt dishonest. I was creating what it took to win, but I wasn’t creating what I loved. I was selling out.
 
And so I paused to take stock of what I was doing…and WHY I was doing it.
 
I was seeking success, but had never stopped to ask myself: what did success mean to me? I had just assumed it meant being recognized as a great photographer, getting in a big name gallery, selling my work for big dollars, and having a book published.
 
But as I started to achieve some of that, I found that it wasn’t bringing satisfaction.
 
And so I decided to define what success meant for me. Here’s what I came up with:
 
To be able to create what I want, when I want, and to create work that I love.
 
My new definition had nothing to do with likes, sales, being published or receiving accolades.
 
The result was that I was much happier and created better work (in my opinion, which is the only one that matters).
 
And sometimes when I created work that I loved, I was fortunate and others appreciated it also.
 
That external appreciation is what I call the cherry on top. The cherry is not the prize, but rather that little extra treat on top of the real prize: creating work that I love.
 
Now it’s easy to say: I’m going to stop caring what other’s think of my work and see for myself.
 
But how do you do that?
 
For me, it came about after realizing that accolades are like drugs, they only bring a temporary high, which needs to be followed by another fix and another and another. And as I focused on on accolades, I came to realize that this approach didn’t put me in control of my happiness, because it was dependent upon the approval of others.
 
Being dependent upon others for my happiness, just didn’t seem like real happiness.
 
  • I wanted to be in control.
  • I wanted to see for myself.
  • I wanted to create images that I loved.
  • I wanted to judge my work by my standards.
  • I wanted to be independent, not dependent.
 
There were two men who helped me make these mental shifts, one real and one fictitious: Edward Weston and Howard Roark.
 
I love Edward Weston’s work, but what I admire most about him was his thinking. Here’s what Ansel Adams wrote upon meeting him for the first time at a mutual friend’s home:
 
 
“After dinner, Albert asked Edward to show his prints. They were the first work of such serious quality I had ever seen, but surprisingly I did not immediately understand or even like them; I thought them hard and mannered. 
 
Edward never gave the impression that he expected anyone to like his work. His prints were what they were. He gave no explanations; in creating them his obligation to the viewer was completed.”
 
 
This is classic Weston: he followed his Vision, was comfortable with his work and did not seek, nor need the approval of others.
 
Here are some of my favorite Weston quotes:
 
 
“Photography is a poor man’s art and anyone who wants an
original print should be able to own one.”
 
~
 
“The fact is that relatively few photographers ever master their medium. Instead they allow the medium to master them and go on an endless squirrel cage chase from new lens to new paper to new developer to new gadget, never staying with one piece of equipment long enough to learn its full capacities, becoming lost in a maze of technical information that is of little or no use since they don’t know what to do with it.”
 
~
 
“I should be able to look down at my feet and see something to photograph.”
 
~
 
“Now to consult the rules of composition before making a picture is a little like consulting the law of gravitation before going for a walk. Such rules and laws are deduced from the accomplished fact; they are the products of reflection.”
 
~
 
“When subject matter is forced to fit into preconceived patterns, there can be no freshness of vision. Following rules of composition can only lead to a tedious repetition of pictorial clichés.”
 
~
 
“Why limit yourself to what your eyes see when you have such an opportunity to extend your Vision?”
 
~
 
“Anything more than 500 yards from the car just isn’t photogenic.”
 
~
 
 
Each year I peek into the mind of Edward Weston by reading his “Day Books,” which is his two-volume diary from his time in Mexico. It inspires me to think for myself, to see for myself, and to create for myself.
 
Howard Roark is a fictitious character from Ayn Rand’s novel: The Fountainhead. Roark is an architect who has a strong Vision of what he wants to create, but it flies in the face of what is popular, what is taught, and what the critics like. (the character is thought to be loosely based upon Frank Lloyd Wright, another hero of mine)
 
But Howard is true to his Vision, at great personal cost. He believes in unwavering integrity in his personal life and in his creations. Here are some of my favorite quotes from Howard Roark:
 
~
 
“He didn’t want to be great, but to be thought great by others.”
 
~
 
“Men have been taught that it is a virtue to agree with others. But the creator is the man who disagrees. Men have been taught that it is a virtue to swim with the current. But the creator is the man who goes against the current. Men have been taught that it is a virtue to stand together. But the creator is the man who stands alone.”
 
~
 
“I don’t make comparisons. I never think of myself in relation to anyone else. I just refuse to measure myself as part of anything. I’m an utter egotist.”
 
~
 
“Self respect is something that can’t be killed. The worst thing is to kill a man’s pretense at it'”
 
~
 
This is Roark’s response when told by the College Dean that no one would let him design buildings that followed his unique Vision:
 
“That’s not the point. The point is, who will stop me?”
 
~
 
A newspaper’s architectural critic, who had been savagely critical of Roark’s designs, runs into Roark and asks:
 
“Mr. Roark, we’re alone here. Why don’t you tell me what you think of me? In any words you wish. No one will hear us.”
 
Roark: “But I don’t think of you.”
 
~
 
Yes, Roark is a fictitious character, and he can be being anything the author wants him to be; independent, brave and defiant. But the philosophies espoused by the author, have inspired me to see more independently.
 
Thinking and seeing independently is incredibly hard, because it’s in our DNA to conform, to go along with the crowd, and to fit in. And sometimes in life that’s a good thing, but in art…it’s deadly.
 
Art is a selfish pursuit, it’s about expressing what’s in you, even if it’s ugly, doesn’t conform or is unpopular. And when you conform and seek to please others, then your ability to see for yourself is squashed, and it will eventually shrivel and die.
 
How do you become independent, to think and see for yourself? Here’s some of the things that I do:
 
 
Ask: why am I creating?
This is an important first step. The “why” you are creating will determine everything else that you do. If your desire is to “win and gain likes,” then you will go one way. If your desire is to express something that’s inside of you, then you’ll go another.
 
This step requires that you be completely honest with yourself, something that’s not easy to do.
 
 
Define success for yourself:
For some, the classic definition of success will be their goal: fame, fortune, gallery representation and a book.
 
But for me, success is freedom: the freedom to create what I love, without the desire to follow the crowds/experts/rules, and without worrying if others will like my work.
 
What is your definition of success? Write it down and read it often.
 
Stop Competing:
Art is not a competition, I shouldn’t be trying to be better than someone else, but working to express something that’s inside of me. Competition in art, brings out qualities that are incompatible with personal expression.
 
Competing also reinforces the mistaken belief that a winning image is a great image, and that one that doesn’t win, isn’t good.
 
 
Stop Comparing:
“Comparison is the thief of joy“ said Theodore Roosevelt.
 
I used to spend hours looking at other’s images, comparing their work to my own…and feeling bad. Why hadn’t I created that image, or thought of that idea?
 
Comparing serves no useful purpose, and is harmful because it puts the focus on what “they” are doing instead of what “you“ are doing.
 
And as my mother used to say to me: you stop worrying what others are doing, and just worry about Cole. Good advice mom.
 
 
Consider Photographic Celibacy:
Consider taking a break from looking at other people’s images, and focus on your Vision. I’ve been doing it for over 15 years now, and still find the practice incredibly useful. I recognize that most people are skeptical about the idea, but how about a 3 or 6 month trial?
 
You might be surprised at what you learn.
 
 
Skip the critiques:
Stop asking others for input on your work, because “their opinion” is based on their likes, dislikes and Vision. Following other‘s advice is the exact opposite of seeing for yourself.
 
Instead learn to critique your own work by asking yourself these questions:
d
  • What do I think of my image?
  • Did it turn out the way I envisioned?
  • If not, how so?
  • What do I love about this image?
  • How can I enhance those things that I love?
  • What don’t I like about this image?
  • How can I deemphasize or eliminate those things?
  • Do I love what I’ve created?
 
Learning to self-critique is a much better way to see, than by following another’s advice or following rules. Asking other’s opinion is the easier path, but not the better one.
 
 
Believe in Your Creative Abilities:
This was a tough one for me, because I didn’t believe that I had any creative ability. And as I have talked with other photographers, I‘ve discovered that I was not unique in my self-doubts. I think many of us were drawn to photography because we thought it was the perfect medium for we non-creative types.
 
But I’ve learned this important truth: we all have the ability to be creative, everyone single one of us. For some, that creativity lies close to the surface, and for the rest of us, we need to work a little harder to find it. But it’s there, I promise!
 
 
Find your Vision:
This is the most important step, because your Vision is simply how you see once you’ve pushed all of the other voices out of your head. Vision is the key to being successful, if your goal is to create images that you love.
 
And once you’ve found your Vision, you will gain a confidence that allows you to ignore what others are doing, not care what other’s think of your work, shake off criticism and love the work that you create.
 
None of this is easy, and it’s not a one time exercise. I am constantly fighting the desire to conform, to see how others have seen and to create for likes. It’s an addiction that never goes away, and one that I must constantly work to resist.
 
But it’s worth it! Because at the end of the day, you will have created honest work that you love, and you will be in control of your happiness.