I don't know everything there is to know about photography. As a matter of fact, there is much more that I don't know than I do know about photography. But one thing I do know for sure about myself is that I'm fast. Lightning fast. Call me Jack Be Quick.

Right at the top of the list - almost every time I shoot with a paying customer or art director, they all say something along the lines of...'Geez, you're fast'. I smile back. Because I am fast. Jack Be Nimble, Jack Be Quick. It's part of my charm. :)

To most amateur photographers, speed in photography isn't really a virtue to be coveted or aspired to. Most don't put that sort of pressure on themselves. And rightly so. Why should they? You win some, you lose some. No biggie if you get the shot or don't get the shot. There's always another day.

Sadly, commercial shooters don't have the luxury of having such a nonchalant and laid-back attitude. Ask any wedding, event, portrait, editorial, stock, or annual report photographer. Speed matters. And when someone is paying you, it matters a lot! But as the saying goes...no pressure, no diamonds.

On an average day of commercial lifestyle shooting, I crank out about 2000-3000 captures. And usually end up with 200-300 keepers (or a 10:1 ratio of shooting to editing). Neither of these numbers, by themselves, are terribly impressive. I'd say they're average. Some crank out more than this. Most crank out a lot less. But these numbers relate to volume, not speed. What's more important to me than the volume of captures...is the speed in which I capture them.

Speed in capture is the internal, creative ability to assess, gauge, size up a scene. And capturing it like you visualized in your mind's eye. That's what I'm good at. That's what people mean when they call me fast. On commercial shoots, you don't have time to dilly-dally. Speed in execution is what separates hobbyists from professionals.

Speed is also relative to yield. After all, what's the point of moving and shooting quickly if you're always missing the shot? No point at all. Speed is only a virtue when coupled with a productive yield. If you're not getting the yield you want from your shoots, then maybe you need to slow down rather than rev up? However, if you're getting the yield you want...then put the pedal to the metal!

I would consider myself mechanically fast. In other words, my camera controls (f-stops, shutter speeds, lens choice, composition, etc) are all second nature to me. Which is a result of a lot of practice and experience.

I'm also emotionally fast. I can connect with my subject quickly. And still make them feel like I'm moving slowly and devotedly to them. This is an art form and takes years of practice.

But what I'm most proud of, and perhaps the fastest at, is visualization. I can come to a scene, look around, measure it up and, almost without thinking, start shooting. And moving through the scene like the wind. Sometimes quietly and softly. Other times with gale force. Because that is how my brain works. I mentally shoot thousands of images a day...without my camera. All in my mind's eye. Click, click, click.

Most beginner shooters belabor over a scene way too long. Just get the shot. Move on. Something better might be just around the corner. Don't loiter. Don't overdo it. Don't obsess. Shoot it and move on!

Beginner shooters also often come to a screeching halt when they hit a creative and mental roadblock. My advice again - shoot through the wall. Keep clicking. Keep moving. Keep shooting. You can only steer a ship if it's moving. Idleness leads to stagnation. If the scene doesn't yield a shot, go to the next scene.

My speed, like everything else in life, is a product of both nature and nurture. I was born this way. I also learned it over time and with experience. You can, too. Get fast!

There is nothing more satisfying, especially on a commercial shoot, than to get in and out of a job or project...quickly, efficiently and productively. That is so gratifying.

My dear wife is admittedly a bit indecisive. In a very sweet way, of course. :) She has to explore all available options before she makes a final decision (and, for the record, her decisions are generally right :) ). me, on the other hand, I don't need all that data to make a quick decision. I make a decision based on whatever available data I see, feel and touch...at the moment. Which, for most photographers, is visual data. The good thing is...we balance each other nicely.

A working photographer doesn't have the luxury of time on his side. There is pressure to get the job done. And get it done quickly. And productively. Push, push, push.

I have found, over the years in my own professional life, that swiftly and speedily working my way through a photographic scene or scenario will treat me to a lot more visual treasures and delights than some of my lollygagging colleagues. The journey is full of surprises. Walk briskly.

This message is from Jack Be Quick!

I get a little cranky and crabby when I hear other well-meaning photographers speak, with insulting condescension, about those of us who embrace the concept of 'free' as a viable business model. Before you start throwing stones, I am the first to admit that doing stuff for free won't pay your rent. At least not directly. But indirectly, it could more than cover things.

I am an absolute zealot for free. And have been my whole photographic career. I believe in free. Because I have been freely given to. Many, many times over. Why would I not want to propagate this karmic experience? And give back...because I have been given to.

Those of us who embrace the concept of free are not evil. We do not devalue photography. We are not naive hobbyists. We are not blind-sided optimists. We are not stupid business people. We embrace free because we are human. And that's what humans do. They freely give. It's what makes the world go round. And it always comes back.

There are 2 kinds of free - unconditional and conditional.

Unconditional free is because you can. Because you want to. Because you see need. Because you know, in your heart, that many have given to you...to get you to the point where you are now. You give out of fullness and wholeness. You give thankfully, humbly and appreciatively. With no strings attached. No conditions. You don't expect a single thing in return. Your motivation is to give, not receive. Your heart, soul and spirit are pure. You give unconditionally.

Conditionally giving is equally noble and altruistic. Like above, you give because there is a need. But you also ask for something small and manageable in return - a photo credit, a tearsheet, a link back to your blog, a coveted customer testimonial, a referral or recommendation, a bartered service, access to a location, etc.

I could write a book on all the indirect benefits I've personally received over the years from embracing the concept of free in my business. It's amazing. And a marvel to behold. Which is why I'm so adamant about encouraging others to give freely, too.

I'm not talking about clients who have money but are trying to exploit you and get your product and services for nothing when they can afford to hire you. I'm talking about honest need.

I believe that a lot of our photographic leaders, many with sincere intentions, have gone way overboard in preaching about the evils of free. So let me stand on my own soapbox here and suggest that photographers need more, not less, free. That's right - more free. Give liberally! And start today.

How did we become so Scrooge-like, so tight-fisted, so penny-pinching? Why have we been conditioned to expect so much in return for what we give? Where did this come from? What happened to good old-fashioned generosity, kind-heartedness, benevolence, charity, goodness?

Do you believe in karma? I do. As you invest your abundance, plenty, bounty...it will be returned to you tenfold. This is my experience.

I have happily done free assignments. I've let people use my stock library for free. I have given away equipment. I have given away consulting and mentoring time. I have sponsored charities, events, experiences - all free of charge. All without strings attached. Be parsimonious and the universe will be parsimonious back.

It's not always easy or convenient to embrace free. Sometimes it's difficult, awkward, uncomfortable. But I'd argue that even in these situations, the rewards on the other side far outweigh the inconvenience.

I realize you can't live on a diet of free. No one can. Not me, not you...no one. But may I suggest we all dig a little deeper, past the bias and callous, and embrace the concept of free?

I'll go to the grave preaching free. Because I believe in it. And will always believe in it. Be stingy if you want - but expect stingy in return. It's really that simple. Decide for yourself what camp you want to belong to. It could be the differentiator in your career. I'm dead serious.

Don't let a single person convince you not to give freely - unconditionally or conditionally. Give until you can't give anymore. Then give some more. Free of charge.

A couple of weeks back, I polled the Twitter-verse and found, not surprisingly, that most preferred the term 'emerging photographer' to 'amateur', 'hobbyist' or 'prosumer'. That makes perfect sense - since, in my estimation, 75% of the current photographer base on Twitter is comprised of this group.

Some are just beginning their pro careers. Others are a stones throw away from hanging their shingle out. Still others are aspiring to go pro someday soon. They are all emerging photographers. We are all emerging photographers.

I love this phrase because it implies the journey, and not just the destination. The beginning and middle, not just the end. The process, and not just the end product. We emerge one step at a time.

In this sense, we are all emerging photographers. Or at least we should be. None of us, regardless of the plaques or trophies we boast, should claim final 'emergence'. No one has emerged. We are all continuously emerging.

Some of us may know more than others. Or have more aptitudes. Or more personal style and vision. Or more cash to run our business. Or more customers. But in spite of all of this, we are all still emerging photographers.

Our economy is emerging. Our culture is emerging. Our photographic industry is emerging. Likewise, photographers should be emerging, too.

Emerging means moving from one form or function to another. Breaking out from an egg, a cocoon, a casing. Emergence always carries with it a positive and transformative connotation. The fruit of emergence usually means that we are in a better place than when we started the journey.

Photographers are emerging from pleasure, to profit. From hobby, to profession. From shooting for the wall, to shooting for the wallet. The word 'emerge' comes from the Latin 'emergere' - to dip. We are delicately, and not so delicately sometimes, dipping our toes, feet, legs and even our whole bodies into unfamiliar waters. Hoping to emerge transformatively better because of the risk. It's fine to dip those toes in first. If you like the experience, dunk your whole body!

And emergence isn't just applicable to your skill set either. We are all emerging in branding, marketing, social media, self-promotion, new business development, etc. We can't help but be emerging, as the internet has equalized not only the economy, but our industry, too. Who could possibly leave out our frail and often insecure emergence into video, filmmaking, storytelling. We have to emerge from something...into something better.

Emerging means that you're in the process of becoming more serious, prominent and important in your profession and personhood. Work at it. Chip away at it. Tackle one problem at a time. This is emerging.

I have personally always felt in the process of emergence. Just when I think i've figured something out, along comes something new that catapults me back to square one. One step forward, two steps back. But that's okay. It's part of emerging. Accept it. Don't fight it. Learn from it. Emerge.

I see my fair share, as I'm sure you do, of over-confident photographers who boastfully pretend they have emerged. They haven't. As a matter of fact, any photographer who claims final emergence is only kidding themselves.

Even though I have 30 years of commercial experience under my belt, there isn't a single day that goes by that I don't feel the desperate need to emerge. I am emerging. I will keep emerging. And I will do everything within my power to emerge gracefully, humbly and genuinely. For if the fires of passion to emerge are quenched, there is little hope left for growing as an artist and businessman.

Again, as I've suggested so many times before...think of emergence like a continuum. With many points along that continuum. Some points are at the beginning. Some in the middle. Some at the end. But they are all points along the same path.

Focus on where you are, not where others are. We are all at different stages in our careers as photographers. In one sense, no one is really right or wrong. Ahead or behind. Good or bad. We are one community. Each of us trying to find our place in this world. Emerge from your shell, your cocoon, your casing. Be the photographer you were born to be.

This is one of my all-time favorite quotes:

"It's weird that photographers spend years, or even a whole lifetime, trying to capture moments that, added together, don't even amount to a couple of hours." ~ James Lalropui Keivom.

Whoa. That's heady stuff.

Let me personalize this. I have no earthly idea how many portraits, formal or informal, that I've shot over my photographic career. A zillion of them perhaps. Way too many to count or number.

If I liberally edited every portrait I ever shot, I would most likely walk away with a couple of hundred treasures. And most of them would have taken me a fraction of a second to capture. Less than 200 seconds. Or about 3 minutes of time.

What took seconds to capture...could captivate for centuries. We record in split seconds. But what we record lasts a lifetime. When we shoot, we hold these moments for ourselves...for a short period of time. Then we share these moments with others...forever.

Put the best work together from the best living photographers of today, and we might even be able to fill in a 24 hour day with pictures. I find it strangely intriguing that the duration of these photographic moments, in capture...have little correlation to the long term value these moments produce, in life. For what we capture in the twinkling of an eye...can put a twinkle in someone else's eye for days, years, decades.

Collectively, in just a couple of short hours of capture...think what incredible influence and impact we have had on so many people. At so many levels.

Our photographic process is surely fractional. But the effects and results of what we do is quite the opposite. Our reach and influence is deep. We provide moments of joy, happiness, hope, inspiration, encouragement, self-esteem, dignity for so many people - family, friends, customers. We have captured and encapsulated frozen moments of time - of milestones, celebrations, events, traditions. And have done so at the speed of light. In fractions of a second.

The product of what we do as photographers is short-lived, fleeting, passing, transitory. But the by-product of what we do is stunningly lasting, long-term, permanent. And has far-reaching effects on people, cultures, even civilizations. This is exactly what makes me both click and tick. Momentary capture. But monumental influence. This is who we are as photographers. It's our moment. It's their moment. It's everyone's moment.

This notion makes me feel small. But not in a self-abasing way. In a good way. It helps me put what I do in it's rightful context. We are not centers or masters of the universe. We are all bit players on a much bigger stage.

We, together, are all moments. We create moments. We keep moments. We give away moments. We treasure moments. We freeze moments. We interpret moments. We celebrate moments.

Our professional efforts may seem momentary, but the repercussions of what we do are monumental. Use photography for good. Make a difference. Change the world. Don't let those moments go by. The moment is right now. And the moment is you. Be there!

I am married to my soulmate, Shannon. We share two gorgeous daughters, Emma and Audrey. Our family life is by no means perfect. We struggle just like all families - financially, emotionally, socially. But at the end of the day, we have each other. And that seems to be enough glue to hold our fractured lives together in one piece.

My wife is a brilliant visual creative, in her own right. She puts in her time typing, designing, marketing and branding our emerging photography business. Fortunately for me, and for our two precious children, she puts more time into being a mother and wife. I'd be lost without her.

Photography is such a solitary business. It really is. We spend so much of our time, as photographers, alone. Most of us don't have support staff, so we make our own decisions. Do our own marketing and branding. Do our own customer service. Do our own post-processing and delivery. Even do our own accounting.

For those of us fortunate enough to be coupled with a supportive spouse, there is no greater joy, fulfillment, satisfaction. My wife not only completes me, but she grounds and centers me, too. Her anchoring love keeps me from drifting and straying. Keeps me on course. Provides the emotional fuel to keep me strong for her and our children. Balances me. Makes me laugh. Makes me cry. Knows how to softly and gently meet my needs, even before I know what my needs are.

I can say, without exaggeration, that I am the photographer I am today due in large part to the unconditional...and often times undeserved...love, support, tenderness, friendship and consolation of my wife. Really. I wouldn't be in this place today if it wasn't for her. And I wouldn't be half the man I am without her.

I know a lot of you guys out there are affirmatively shaking your heads because you, too, know what I'm talking about here. And know first hand the mesmerizing power a supportive spouse has in your life and career.

It's important for photographers to share with their spouses. Not just the victories, but the failures, too. Get feedback. Talk. Get comments, reactions, reviews. Two are better than one. Approach your business in tandem. Like synchronized swimmers or scullers. Or like riding a bicycle built for two.

My wife has always been there for me. And I believe she always will be. She is loved by so many. And so loved by me, her husband. I'll be there for her, too.

In the grand scheme of things, my legacy will not be my photographs...but my family. This will be my crowning glory.

I know it's hard to balance family and career. It's hard for me, too. But we must. A solid family life provides a solid footing for your professional life. You might be able to succeed alone. Some have. But most don't. I know I wouldn't or couldn't have made it to where I am now without Shannon, Emma and Audrey.

Every time I get a little down and discouraged, I think of their smiling faces. And that is usually all it takes to give me the courage to rise above any circumstances.

I've taken a lot of the public credit for my career successes. But a lot of that should be shared with my wife, business partner, dearest friend and confidant.

Shannon, I love you more than you can know. Forgive me for not saying it as often as I think and feel it. I love you from the depths of my heart and soul. I've never been more proud of you or for you. You are a special person. Your spell mesmerizes and enraptures all you come in contact with. Your heart is still my heart. You are beautiful. You still take my breath away. The thought of us growing old together couldn't make me any happier. You are my beloved. And I am yours. I am and will always be your devoted husband.

Happy birthday, Shannon. I love you.

My name is Jack Hollingsworth. I'm a Tog. The phrase 'tog' is Twitter-short for 'photographer'. I didn't invent the phrase. It's been around for a while. No one really knows where it came from. I first saw it used by my friend, Lee Torrens (@microstock). I picked up on it and helped popularize. I'm not particularly fond of the phrase. But it's now mainstream on Twitter. It's short. And it works.

What I am fond of is the photographer community on Twitter. In my thirty years of commercial work, I've never been part of a community quite like this. A community that is so fun. So hungry for photography. So encouraging, inspirational, giving, supportive, collaborative.

Let me state a disclaimer here. I'm only marginally involved in Facebook, Linkedin, and Flickr. I'm sure each of these platforms have their own evangelists. But I'm a full-fledged, card-carrying, self-appointed proselytizer and crusader for Twitter. As a matter of fact, Mactribe magazine affectionately refers to me as Twitter Monk. And that suits me just fine. Because I am an evangelist for all things Twitter. I think, without a doubt, that Twitter is the greatest and most powerful platform for photographers today.

And there is huge interest about photography on Twitter. As of today, 7,827,235 people on Twitter have their profile tagged with the word 'photographer'. Now that doesn't at all mean that there are 7.8 million photographers on Twitter. Heavens no. But it does mean that there are at least 7.8 million people on Twitter, out of a total user base of 32 million, that have an interest in photography. No matter how you slice and dice it, that's a lot of interest in photography...period.

Since there is really no where to go to find out how many working photographers are on Twitter today, my hunch and estimated guess is that there are roughly 20,000 pro and aspiring pro photographers. Roughly 75% of those, or approximately 15,000, are amateurs, hobbyists, prosumers, emerging photographers. And 25%, or 5000, are working professionals (I define 'professional' as someone who makes their primary income through photography). And these numbers are growing daily.

My rules for photographers succeeding on Twitter are pretty basic:

1. Give more than you get.

2. Be a content expert in 1-2 niche areas.

3. Daily answer your mentions and direct messages (DMs).

4. Don't spam.

5. Grow organically, one follower at a time.

6. Limit your signal-to-noise ratio to 5:1 (5 part signal/content to 1 part noise/self-promotion).

7. Recommend photographers to photographers, either through #followfriday (FF) or #togsfollow.

8. Think of Twitter as relational and social PR, not direct marketing.

9. Gently guide your fan base to your blogsite for deeper engagement.

10. Don't quit (60% of new registrants quit after 30-60 days).

11. Spend 15-60 minutes a day on Twitter to get the hang of it.

12. Participate in polls and surveys.

13. Celebrate the success of others.

My gut tells me that Twitter, over the next 24-36 months, has the potential to grow into the most electrifying and eclectic group of photographers anywhere on the web.

The Twitter phenomena is both a revolution and an evolution for photographers everywhere. In every corner of the planet. Covering every niche, genre, subject and technical specialty. Revolutionaries had their underground press. We have Twitter. To tell our story. To be heard. To share multimedia content. To learn. To grow our photographic business and brand.

Right now, the majority of core conversations come from emerging pros and advanced hobbyists. But I'm seeing a daily migration to Twitter of working pros, vendors, trade manufacturers, photo reps, marketers, equipment resellers and distributors.

Twitter, for photography and photographers, is the place to be. Join the conversation. And join it now. You won't be disappointed. Twitter isn't just about photographers talking to photographers. There are plenty of conversations between photographers and photo buyers. Even conversations between photo buyers.

No one honestly knows what the end game of Twitter will be. That will be for the future to decide. But for the present, there is a conversation going on that is so deep, relevant, important and critical that you not only need to listen to...but also participate in.

I'm an admitted Twitter freak of nature. And I'll go on being freakish, passionate, spirited and fervent about Twitter. Because I love this platform. Love this community. Love the new friends I've developed. Love the spontaneity and real-timeness of it all. I am Tog. And very, very proud of it!

All businesses are made up of people. And people need to like you before they hire you. Likeability precedes bookings, almost without exception.

In a relationship economy, personality is as important as portfolio. Who you are is as important as what you do. How you socially and emotionally relate to those around you might just be your secret ingredient to getting more work. Get liked...get booked. It's that simple.

Can you have extraordinary technical skills, be a real jerk and still get hired? Yes, you can. But usually only once. Technical aptitude will bring a first time customer in the door, at least for one job. But it won't keep them there.

To keep customers coming back, again and again, you need to have and express genuine likeability. Because in order for people to want to keep working with you, they first have to keep liking you.

It's not always about the product of your photography that engenders and evokes the most response. Sometimes it's the process of your photography. How the client feels when they walk in the door. And how they feel when they leave.

If I'm a paying client, I would choose, hands down, a photographer with solid and average technical skills...but above average social, relational and customer service skills. As opposed to a master craftsman (or woman) who is a jerk. That's just me. But I know I'm not alone.

I applaud photographers who work hard and diligently on their aptitude skills, as they should. You need those skills to deliver a consistent product and service. But I applaud louder and longer those photographers who are equally devoted to becoming a better human being, as they are a better photographer.

Want to get noticed? Get liked. Then booked!

People don't hire jerks. Or prima-donnas. Or divas. Or larger-than-life egos. People hire people that they like. And trust. Who are engaging. And genuine. And deliver a great photographic product and service.

Photographers often mistakenly think that it's their actions that attract new business. Perhaps this is true. But it is more likely their attitude that magnetizes and attracts. No need to go on and on to customers about how great you think you are. It's not necessary. And it's self-serving. Deliver a remarkable product and service, then wrap it all up, like a blanket, in authenticity. Be likeable. Be charming. Be good-natured. Be even-tempered. Be simpatico. Be amiable and affable.

My father, sister and brother have all been public educators. And good ones, too. But with all three, I suspect that if you were to ask their students what made them special...few would point to their facility, ability or proficiency as teachers. I suspect more would point to their loving, caring, influencing personalities. Because whether you're a teacher or a photographer, at the end of the day...it all comes down to who you are, not what you know.

Do you want to walk among giants? And awaken the giant within? Be likeable.

With very few exceptions (@RickSammon and @JoeMcNallyPhoto :) ), photographers should specialize and not generalize. Generalize for the wall (art). But specialize for the wallet (commerce).

A specialist is an expert, authority or master craftsman in a technique, subject, niche, topic, theme. A generalist tries to be all things to everyone (and often fails). A specialist narrowly focuses his skillfulness and expertise in one certain direction - with one audience, one niche, one narrowly casted purpose.

Even if you have generalized photographic skills, it's usually better to lead with your specialty. Your strength. Your unique selling propositions. Your competitive advantage. Don't lead with generalities.

Photo clients may ooh and aah over your general portfolio. But the fact is, they usually don't know what to do with you. 'Don't call us, we'll call you'...is a typical response to the photographic generalist.

Photographic generalists have a hard time marketing and branding themselves. Too scattered in various directions. No real focus. No clear cut course, tact, preference. No defining strength, style, vision. Again, generalize for the wall (art)...specialize for the wallet (commerce).

But being a specialist is only half the battle. Being a specialist often compounds your new business dilemma, since the scope of your market is now considerably smaller and narrower.

It's not good enough to call yourself a specialist. That specialty needs to be sustainable. You need to earn a living with and through that specialty. Otherwise, it's simple art and not commerce. Great for the wall, but not for the wallet. So it's best not to drill down too far in your photographic specialty. Otherwise, you'll be drilling yourself right out of business. Your photographic business has to be sustainable in order to call it a business.

It's a good thing to be proud of your photographic specialty. We're proud of you, too. We're all rooting for you to succeed. But you can not and will not succeed unless that specialty can sustain you. Unless that specialty has a wide enough market base to support, underpin and shore you up. And I'm not talking about nurturing and nursing your photographic ego. I'm talking about putting money in the bank. Making a living. Sustaining you. Fattening your wallet.

Shooting doors, windows, silhouettes, urban grunge, peeling paint, textures, clouds...are all aspirational subject matter for specialists. And I applaud and encourage you to shoot them. But will these specialties sustain you in business? Unfortunately, they most likely will not. You have to find photographic specialties that balance your interest and passion with money and accounting.

The simple mantra for sustaining yourself in business is to make more money than you spend. Simple. Your specialty needs to be sustainable.

Another exception to employing generalist tactics is when you're starting out in photography. You should generalize. Then, over time and based on customer feedback, let your experience help you more narrowly define your photographic specialties.

I know there will be those of you out there reading this post who don't care a bit about making money with your photography. That's cool. Good for you. Shoot whatever your heart indulges you to shoot. This conversation is for the emerging photographer who needs to find a sustainable revenue model...to build their business and brand.

Don't try to please everyone. It won't work. Don't try to show everything you ever shot to anyone who will pay attention. That won't work either. It's okay to build generalist skills, but brand and market with your specialty. And make sure that specialty is sustainable...so you're around next year to read another post. :)

Happy shooting!

Good is no longer good enough. Good athletes don't make it to the Olympics. Or win medals. Great athletes do. Good photographers survive. Great photographers thrive.

Because of both the accessibility and affordability of digital cameras, our industry boasts a lot of good photographers. But fewer great ones.

Greatness is above the norm or average. Average means shooting pictures that are pedestrian, commonplace, routine. Photographic greatness means shooting pictures that are awe-inspiring, extraordinary, surprising, astounding. Better than good. Way better.

History does not, and will not, remember good photographers. Or photographs. It will only remember great ones.

I see so many good photographers today. Good exposure. Good composition. Good technical execution. Good Photoshop work. Good photographers are everywhere. But the pool of great ones is considerably smaller.

So much of my own work is good. But I aspire to be more than good. I aspire to be great.

Great photography and photographs stand out. Because work that is sensational, remarkable, historic, and spectacular gets appreciated and remembered.

By the way, 'photographically great' is not what you call yourself. It's the mantle that others cloak you with. You don't claim greatness - you are ascribed greatness.

You can be good at a lot of simultaneous niches and specialties. But you can only be great in a selective few. Play to your strength. Don't try to be great at everything you do. It won't work. Migrating from good to great is a lifelong process. One that you may never arrive at, but still tirelessly work to achieve.

There is nothing wrong with being a good photographer. It's honorable, righteous, exemplary. But do you really want to aspire to goodness? Not me. No way. Goodness is the first step. Greatness is the step way down the road.

Great photographers seem to have been born with photographic instinct, intuition, inclination. And great photographers are often described as having a flair, or faculty, or gift, or knack for greatness. I suppose some of that is true. Greatness is a result of nature and nurture. But in my mind, mostly nurture. For great photographers have drive, ambition, eagerness and hunger to be great. And achieve greatness. They work hard at it.

Good photographers want and wish. Great photographers aspire and inspire. Good photographers daydream. Great photographers make their dreams come true. Greatness to a good photographer is a pipe dream. Greatness to a great photographer is right around the corner.

Photographically speaking, it's your skills that help you achieve greatness. But that's not all. Besides technical expertise in your career, you also need great vision, great mission, great passion, great action. And you need to work at being a great person, too. So your personality complements your portfolio.

Can you achieve photographic greatness with only good skills? I don't think so. You need technical competency, artistry, capability and virtuosity. Photographic greatness requires all.

Want to be great? Then obsess about your career. Live, eat, breathe and sleep it. Let it become you. Devour and consume it. Let what you record be a natural extension of what you see, feel, touch.

The world already has too many good photographers. We don't need more. We need to start grooming and cultivating great photographers. And great photography. First, in ourselves and for ourselves. Then in and for others.

Serious and sober responsibilities come with photographic greatness. To whom much is given, much is required. If you are one of the lucky ones that have achieved photographic greatness, then teach the rest of us. Hold our hands. Bring us along. Show us the way. We are listening. And we will follow. Because 'good enough' is not good enough for us. Like you, we want to leave a legacy of greatness and not just goodness. Guide us down the road less travelled.

Because of my privileged position in social media, I spend a lot of conversational time with emerging photographers. Those who are aspiring to go pro. And those who have gone pro but are just starting out. One shortcoming I see in both camps is a fear of wandering.

Emerging photographers have somehow got it in their heads that, by the time they set up shop and hit the street, they should know...

...exactly what sort of photographer they should be.

...exactly what sort of niche they should serve.

...exactly what their photographic life and career should look like for the next 20 years.

Baloney. Hogwash. Naivity. Just not true.

Forget for a minute what you've read in a book or magazine. Or what your photography instructor told you. Or what a local pro whispered in your ear at an association meeting. Or what some over-zealous workshop leader pontificated.

Would you permit me to give you some reassuring, parental-type advice? It's simple. When you're starting out, you shouldn't know what you're going to do with your photographic career. How could you? It's not possible! Those sorts of career choices come with time and experience. There's no other way to get there. You'll learn only by having lots of experience. Then integrating those experiences with your personality, interests, opportunities, skill set.

You can relax. It's okay to wander. Especially when you're just stating out. Don't let anyone tell you that to hang a shingle on your storefront, you need a clear roadmap of the future. As J.R.R Tolkein said in Lord of the Rings...'not all who wander are lost'.

I'm not talking about aimless or purposeless rambling. What I'm talking about here is giving yourself some slack. Relaxing. Stop being so anxious and uptight about not having all of the details figured out. You'll figure out all those details in due time, as you have multiple experiences in commercial photography.

I think it's far more healthy, when you're starting out, to wander a bit. Try different things. Different kinds of photography. See what sticks. What you like. What you're good at. Those experiences, good and bad, will prompt you in the direction you should go.

When I started out in photography, I had no earthly idea what I really wanted to be. But I wasn't uptight about it. I knew that, over time, I'd figure it out. And I did. Experience led me all along the way.

Meandering also keeps you honest and creative. Why lock yourself in, especially when you're starting out, to an untested business plan?

So do yourself a big favor. Veer. Swerve. Mosey. Roam. Drift. Twist. Turn. Weave. Wander. And enjoy every single minute of the ride. Welcome all experiences. Know that, cumulatively, these experiences will act as a guidepost to you discovering your true photographic mission.

It's totally cool not to have it all figured out. Just shoot. Wander. You are not lost. You are in good company.

I spent last weekend doing some personal photography with a photographer friend. We shot from sunrise to sunset. Sometimes we shot together. More often than not, we shot apart. In separate locations. The whole day, photographically speaking, from beginning to end...was so quiet.

Have you ever noticed, like me, when you're shooting a quiet scene...how loud your inner voice is? And how strong and clear it is, too?

My creative voice was so potent and convincing, it was like I was having a conversation. Shoot this. Look to your left. Lower your camera angle. Use this lens. Frame like this. Go vertical. The conversation lasted all day long. The voice never dimmed or diminished.

It got me thinking about all of the noise around us every day as we photograph. And how that noise diminishes and sometimes deafens the voice within.

It's important for our creative and mental health as photographers that we covet the quiet. That we go out of our way to look for it. And spend time nurturing the creative voice within. This weekend, the voice was so defined that I swear I could hear the sunrise, the clouds dance by, the sunshine on my face. Weird, I know. But it was real.

The quiet has a natural way of calming us, putting us at ease, suppressing anxiety, making us feel restful on the inside.

And you know something? I bet when I edit those weekend pictures, they will reflect that undisturbed tranquility. For how we feel on the inside, usually comes out in and with our imagery. Feel quiet on the inside and your pictures will probably look quiet.

As photographers, even human beings, we just don't get enough quiet. We are constantly surrounded by commotion, clamor, racket and all sorts of auditory hullabaloo. From the morning alarm until late night TV.

I believe that at least every other month, as a photographer, you need to find some quiet. You and your camera. No noise. No distraction. No interruption. No interference. Just you and your inner voice. See what comes out of it.

I distinctly remember a similar experience i had, years back, on the top of Machu Picchu. Deafening quietness. As a matter of fact, it was so quiet that I felt like I was hearing that ancient Peruvian civilization going about their daily life.

Quietness opens possibilities for seeing. Noise closes that.

I'm personally trying to learn to be quiet in the noise. Everyday. To converse with my inner voice even amidst life's frenetic pace. To listen, engage, take direction, grow.

"A happy life must be, to a great extent, a quiet life...for it is only in an atmosphere of quiet that true joy dare live." ~ Bertrand Russell

There are two parallel universes you have to keep in check when living out the dream of professional photography - art and commerce.

The art universe is the easy part, for this is what most likely lured you to photography in the first place. You wanted to be an artist. You wanted to express yourself. You wanted to make your mark on the world through your own unique style, vision, thumbprint. You wanted to satisfy that deep craving for creative expression and communication. Most of us started here. And that's a good thing.

But there is a parallel commerce universe that you need to simultaneously deal with in order to survive. You have to learn to brand, market, self-promote, sell, manage your business, pay your taxes, etc. You don't have to emotionally love doing these business things, but you have to do them nonetheless.

Art and commerce are flip sides of the same coin. One doesn't exist without the other. You need both. 

Fortunately for me, I enjoy both universes. That's probably because I have little bits of both left and right brain working in my favor. If you're not so lucky, then I would suggest you collaborate with folks who have these sorts of strengths...and work together as a team.

Emerging photographers naively think that the strength of their art will compensate for the weakness of their commerce. Nope. Won't happen. At least not often. You need to walk the tightrope of creativity and commerce. Art and business. Artisan and suit. Craftsman and entrepreneur. Lensman and executive.

When I first started out, I didn't like all the business and marketing stuff. I much preferred shooting in the studio or on location (probably like many of you reading this post). But then, over time, I got some experience under my belt and learned to really enjoy the business and marketing of photography.

Don't take your creative hat off when you market and run your business. That's when you'll need it most. Think creatively and visually about running your business. Rather than making it a burden to be tolerated, make it a fun exercise to be embraced.

Successful photographers, in all niches, have always been those who are equally comfortable in both universes - art and commerce. Don't shun and avoid learning the business of photography until you've created your body of work - learn them together. In tandem. Like a bicycle built for two.

Thirty years into commercial photography...I find myself not at war, but at peace with these complementary universes. As a matter of fact, I sometimes love the business of photography as much as the craft (please forgive my blasphemy :) ).

Take it from this battle-scarred veteran - you will not be whole until these parallel universes are guiding you along like railroad tracks. Each rail is important. Each rail is critical to you getting your freight to where it needs to go.

What do you think of when you hear the word boutique? Probably some small store in your neighborhood selling fashionable clothes and accessories. And usually pretty cool stuff.

Boutique owners know you by your first name. They stock inventory according your buying habits. And generally shower you with bucket loads of attention and customer service. Because that's what boutiques do. They know how to earn your business respect and loyalty.

Most photography businesses are, in a sense, boutiques. I'm talking Wall Street, not Main Street. Boutique as a financial model, not a location.

You see, the number one reason most boutiques succeed is that they cater to not only the masses...but to a targeted niche audience. And not with mass-marketed product offerings...but with one-of-a-kind, particularly stylish, offerings.

This is how photographers should be running their businesses. One-of-a-kind products. Stylish offerings. Niche-focused. Narrowed scope.

The boutique photographer can not and should not complete on price. That's not what boutiques do. Customers come to boutiques for great products, competitive (not lowest) pricing and over-the-top customer service. There is absolutely no loyalty at the bottom of the price spectrum. Don't compete on price. Compete on all the other tangibles - value, speed, delivery, service, guarantee, reputation.

Boutique customers, even in photography, are loyalists. If you provide a great product and service at a good price, customers will stick.

Stop producing products and services that look like everyone else. That's the kiss of death. Say no to mass-market, mass-produced commodity products. Be unique. Unrivaled. Rare. Uncommon. Special.

And like the local boutique store owner, spend more time listening than talking to your customers. Find out what they want from you. And how they want you to deliver it (most will gladly tell you). Then deliver that product with unrivaled individuality!

Keep saying this to yourself - I am unique. I am a boutique. I am not like everyone else on the block. I have something remarkable to offer. That only I can offer. That is based on the sum of my life experiences, vision and style. And I will deliver this product and service with unmatched generosity, support and love.

Boutiques are not arrogant. They are not the lowest priced. Nor are they the highest priced. Boutiques are stylish. Boutiques are staffed with friendly, caring, good-natured worker bees. Boutiques promote community and repeat business. Boutiques care more about making customers happy than they do about selling product.

Does your photography business feel like a boutique? Do you have boutique type customers? Do you shower your customers with boutique customer service? Are your boutique products stylish and unique?

There is no inward joy and no sense of fulfillment in crankin' out cheap, mass-produced goods and services. No matter how much money you make at it. But there is something oh so special and oh so rewarding about setting up, managing and growing a photography boutique. Your customers will reward you. Your emotions will reward you. Your sense of pride and accomplishment will reward you. And, I bet your bank account will reward you, too.

The word boutique comes from the French word for 'small shop'. Decide today to be a small shop. With big plans. Big dreams. Big fan base. Big vision.

I love, love, love this Allstate TV commercial copy - "Will we remember this as the great recession? Or the recession that made us great?" Bravo copy. Beautifully phrased. This message resonates with me deeply.

Will this recession cripple us or galvanize us? Revitalize or exhaust us? Empower or defeat us? Invigorate or conquer us?

It's tough to be a commercial photographer today. Real tough. Very challenging. This recession can be our friend or our foe. It can make us bitter or sweet. The choice is ours. Each of us. We did not choose a recession. But the recession has chosen us. Where we go from here is completely up to us.

For most of us trying to carve out a living in photography today this means we have to fight like hell. Make peace with the present. Learn to live with less. Appreciate life's small gifts. Be grateful for what we have, rather than bemoan what we don't have.

A recession can harden your heart or soften your heart. It can turn you inward or outward. A recession can cause you to run in fear or walk with confidence.

Interestingly, a recession has little to do with your craft as a photographer. But everything to do with the confidence you have in your photography. Recession-resistant living means managing the heart and mind game. The battle is inward, not outward. Manage your inward feelings and the outward stuff will work itself out.

Not all of us are recession-proof. But we can all be recession-resistant. We can stay positive. Alert to opportunities. Open to divergent paths. Celebrate small victories. Strengthen our resolve for recovery.

The recession is not punishment. It is a heavily veiled blessing to get each of us back to focusing on what's really important. What does recession mean to you?

This recession affords us the perfect opportunity to return to picture making, not just picture taking. Less revenue, more reflection. Less niceties, more necessities. Less shooting, more marketing.

Think about this. Great work is often born out of the crucibles of trial, tribulation, misfortune. Because in hardship...we reach deeper to create work that is more memorable and remarkable.

Stay strong. Weather the storm. Your best work might even be around the corner.

Recession brings people together. It pushes us back to community, togetherness, collective vision. Less me, more we.

I know this recession is tough. But don't let it dishearten and demoralize you. Let it instead animate, stimulate, invigorate you. Be grateful for this recession. Perhaps it has brought you to a place and space that you would have never found otherwise. Let's all remember this...not as the great recession, but as the recession that made us great. Keep clicking!

I just spent the most enjoyable weekend with 5 emerging photographers. I invited them to be a part of a commercial demo shoot we were doing out of my Cape Cod studio. I met all of them through Twitter.

We didn't eat or sleep much. But we sure got in a lot of picture taking. And fellowship. And discussions about photography.

One thing I immediately noticed upon arrival of this band of brothers was their enthusiasm for all things photography. And I mean enthusiasm! Each had their own religious fervor about some aspect of the photographic process. Cameras, lenses, HDR, social media, post-processing, lighting, composition...and the list goes on. It didn't matter much what the topic was, as long as we were discussing photography.

I thought I'd be center stage. Right. I wasn't. At least not in my mind. They were center stage. I was the side show. And I liked it like that.

For 48 hours we huddled together in photographic gleefulness and jubilation. It didn't necessarily matter about the subject, as long as it had something to do with photography. Canon vs. NIkon. Zooms vs. primes. Speedlights vs. strobes. Handheld vs. tripods. F1.4 vs. F22. Lightroom vs. Aperture.

As I watched this rapturous exchange of information, it painted a very clear picture for me of tomorrow's emerging photographer class. Enthusiasm to the max. Now will enthusiasm be enough? Of course not. But it's a great start!

And these guys are as comfortable and confident at the keyboard as they are behind the camera. They are able to multitask like nobody's business. They were Tweeting. Facebooking. Uploading to Flickr, Twitpic, YouTube. Plus shooting. Plus editing. And even processing on the fly. I've never seen anything like it.

Enthusiasm is just so contagious. Enthusiasm, as an emotional state, is born out of intense and eager enjoyment. If you love photography...it shows. To everyone around you - crew, models, clients. Having an abandoned, almost reckless, sense of on-set enthusiasm is one of the greatest gifts you can bring to your business. Enthusiasm attracts.

I think of enthusiasm as points along a continuum. It starts with keenness and zest. Then moves to passion and devotion. And ends with sheer obsession. Doesn't matter where you are on this enthusiasm continuum. It's all good. Pick a spot. Land. Let it all hang out!

It was such a pleasure seeing, first hand, photographers full of life for photography. Gusto. Verve. Fire. Spirit.

I remember being in this exact same place 30 years ago. Truth is...to some extent, I'm still there. I'm enthusiastic about working as a photographer in the 21st century. I'm enthusiastic about where our photography industry is headed. I'm enthusiastic about the bright future of my 5 new emerging photographer friends. And I'm most definitely enthusiastic about what is going to come of our weekend collaboration. Stay tuned. I am all enthusiastic. :)