This is going to be a hard pill for some of you to swallow. But it is nonetheless a truism of photography. Your goal, especially in commercial photography, is to focus wholeheartedly on your customer’s needs, wants and wishes. And not your own. Your job is to make the photographic experience about your product…not about your personality (even though you actually need both).

I see so many photographers in the blogosphere talk about their behind-the-scenes videos and blog posts like a client wasn’t even there. It’s not about you. It’s about them.

Your key role, as a shooter, should be to remain as invisible as possible. For those of you with larger-than-life personalities, this will be a struggle. But the lesson is worth struggling through.

Photographers, by mistake and very naively, get the notion that their shoots are more about personality than portfolio. More about the process than the product.  More about the capturer than the customer. More about the context than the content. Sometimes this is true. And I’ve written about that before. But, as a general rule, you must feature and highlight your customers success and not your own. Make your processes and successes as invisible as possible.

Most customers are happy that you own a lot of gear, have staff, boast tons of high-tech equipment, understand lighting ratios and all that stuff. But when the shoot starts…it’s all about the customer. It’s fine to talk tech to other photographers and trade colleagues, but don’t talk the same way to your customers. This is true whether you are shooting an elaborate studio set up or a simple, available-light portrait. Make the session, regardless of how long or how complicated, about the client. Keep the technical side as invisible as possible. So that your tech stuff is more background rather than foreground. More of a supporting role rather than lead actor. Don’t get duped into thinking photography is primarily showmanship and salesmanship. It’s not. It’s craftsmanship. Be invisible. Be unnoticed. Be out of sight. Don’t bring undue or unnecessary attention to your talent or techniques. Be the customer!

I also think that you’ll find that playing a more inconspicuous role on the shoot relaxes the client more. And why wouldn’t it? Since you are making the photographic experience about them and not about yourself.

I’m sure you’ve been in plenty of one-way conversations where there was a lot of talking going on, but very little listening. Don’t let that happen on your shoots. Make the experience of production about the customer’s goals, desires, and dreams.

Being invisible is not the same as being non-descript. You still need to be strong, take charge, be assertive, have fun, and maintain control. But do it is such a soft and subtle way that the attention and energy is more reflected on the customer. You will never be disappointed in the results of a shoot when you subjugate and subdue your interests to that of the client. Especially if you have the self-confidence and self-assurance to pull it off. Be invisible!

I’m a firm believer that, in the photography industry, we don’t see much greatness anymore. Certainly not as much as we should. At least not overall greatness. Greatness is not a label or badge we can choose to wear. It’s not at all what we say about ourselves. It’s what others say about us. Greatness is an emblem or crest that others pin on us. It’s usually some sort of distinction for mastery, virtuosity, proficiency, or flair. It’s fine to aspire to greatness. But photographic greatness can only be ascribed.

Don’t get me wrong. There is plenty of greatness among photographers. And many great photographers. Especially if you limit your definition of greatness to an ascendancy and supremacy of mechanical and technical skills. Just look around. Technical greatness is on every corner.

But I’d like to broaden the definition of greatness. Greatness, in my world definition, is consistent, day-after-day, unapplauded leadership. Not follower-ship. Greatness in business is a flat out serving and satisfying customers. From the heart. Without guile. No fanfare. No noise. Simply quiet, remarkable servitude. This is true greatness.

Want to be great? Then serve, satisfy and lead customers. History will not remember your greatness through flamboyant acts of self-serving attention-getting. History will remember your greatness by serving colleagues and customers with authentic humble actions and attitudes.

This sort of greatness is truly the road less traveled. And the path we all need to aspire to.

It’s surprisingly easy to be recognized for your mechanics or your technical ability to master your craft. And exhibit a process of technical authority. But behind all this public attention you get for being a photographic wizard…what are you like on the inside? Are you as great on the inside as you are on the outside? Do you unselfishly serve others with the same bravado that you publicly trumpet your scientific and technological skills?

I’m privileged to know more than a few great photographers. Greatness is what I call them – not what they call themselves. I refer to their greatness as both outward and inward attributes and attitudes. These are photographers who have not only mastered their technical crafts, but have also mastered the powerful craft of dutiful devotion and service to others. This is greatness at its best. Outside and inside.

I don’t know about you but it seems to me that social media, in general, gives birth to a lot of one-sided greatness. We tend to publicly venerate, revere and hold in high regard those that talk a good game. But shouldn’t we equally honor, esteem, and respect those that walk the talk? Even if done so quietly and behind closed doors?

I think it’s better not to aspire to public greatness per se. Aspire instead to thankfully and humbly serve others. With transparency and gratefulness. Greatness will come. And it will be the sort of greatness you want to have attached to your name, rather than the superficial greatness you pin on yourself.

I’m not great because of who I think I am. Or what I say about myself. I am great only through the deserving appellations ascribed to me from others who I have dedicatedly and devotedly served. The first shall be last. And the last first. Be great through service.

I’m a professional photographer. And have been for quite some time. I’m proud of that fact. Which is why here, on Twitter, you’ll find me evangelizing and sermonizing about pro topics, issues, themes and resources. I love the pro and emerging pro agenda. And that should be pretty obvious from my tweets.

But even though I call myself pro…I’m also a staunch advocate of the amateur agenda too. These agendas, pro and amateur, in my world, live peacefully and productively side-by-side. They are not at odds with each other.

This short post isn’t about comparing and contrasting these two agendas (I’ll save that for another day). What I want to share with you today is a few trade secrets about what separates pros from amateurs. For purposes of this discussion, I’m going to limit my remarks to portfolios. And what makes a pro portfolio different from an amateur (hobbyist) portfolio.

Pros Shoot More

Pros flat out shoot more than most amateurs. They shoot with more frequency (more often). And they shoot with more versatility (more subjects). The pros I hang out with are always shooting something new. New techniques. New lenses. New lighting schemes. New concepts. Pros shoot more.

Pros Edit More

Here’s where the gap between pros and amateurs widens. Pros are ruthless image editors. Most, through commercial experience, have a knack, a propensity, for not just culling out the junk, but editing out the mediocre images too. Pros edit more.

Pros Showcase Less

Not only do pros shoot more and edit more, but they most definitely showcase less. Most pros have learned, once again through experience, that you build a brand with fewer and better images. Not showing every image you ever shot – good or bad. Pros showcase less.

Do all pros shoot more, edit more, showcase less? Of course not. I know amateur photographers who excel in all three categories. And I know pros who fail miserably. My point here is, if you’re an amateur photographer and just now emerging into a professional status…shoot more, edit more, showcase less. The reverse of this is disastrous – shoot less, edit less, showcase more.

The key to successful portfolio brand building is to get your best work out there. Consistently. Image after image. So that, over time, and again through experience, your style takes shape. And you become recognized for that style.

There is no shortcut or substitute. If you want to build a pro brand – shoot more, edit more, showcase less. I remember, early in my career, feeling the need to literally showcase everything I ever shot. I was, understandably, proud of my accomplishments. And assumed that others would equally share my enthusiasm for discovery. Wrong. Editing less and showcasing more waters down a photographic brand. That’s moving in the wrong direction. The right direction is to shoot more, edit more, showcase less.

If you’re a pro and reading this…maybe you’ve slacked off, gotten lazy. What makes you a pro is a passionate allegiance to these principles. Now, more than ever, especially in this softened economy, is the time for you to get out and shoot. And not only shoot but edit and showcase too. Build your brand the right way. Shoot more, edit more, showcase less.

If you’re an amateur and reading this…I have just told you a couple of trade secrets that will save you years of anguish and anxiety. Get out there and apply the same passion you do for shooting, editing and showcasing.

Brand building, in photography, is not what you say about your work. It’s what others say about your work. Do people look at your work and think of you as pro or amateur? Do you leave them wanting more or less?

You may have no inclination to even become pro. But even if that’s the case, you still want that pro seal of approval on your work. Shoot more, edit more, showcase less. Be a pro.

For most photographers today (myself included) the path to survival is most likely going to be made up of not only shooting, but doing a variety of different things. For a lot of different people. Under a lot of different circumstances, venues and price ranges.

The days of a linear career in photography are over. We live in a hyphenated world. Where multi-tasking is the norm. So it should come as no surprise that I would advocate that the new breed of photographer today is what I would call the ‘hyphenated photographer’.

A ‘hyphenate’, by definition, is a person who is active in more than one occupation or sphere. For example, I no longer consider myself a photographer only. I’m a photographer-producer-publisher. I am a hyphenate. I have a hyphenated career. I have a hyphenated work ethic and style.

I still take commercial pictures (photographer). But I also produce events – seminars, workshops, phototours, webinars, talkcasts (producer). Additionally, I’m feverishly trying to publish e-books, apps, and blog articles (publisher). Your career path may obviously not be as hyphenated as mine. But I bet, at some point, it will be as varied.

Listen to what guru Tom Peters says: “It’s over. No more vertical. No more ladder. That’s not the way careers work anymore. Linearity is out. A career is now a checkerboard. Or even a maze. It’s full on moves that go sideways, forward, slide on the diagonal, and even go backward when that makes sense. A career is a portfolio of projects that teach you new skills, gain you new expertise, develop new capabilities, grow your colleague set, and constantly reinvent you as brand.”

I repeatedly tell my business manager to think of our career path as a hyphenated career. Not built around home runs and grand slams. But lots and lots of at-bats and base hits. With a few doubles and triples thrown in for good measure.

Revenues for the hyphenated photographer come now in small doses, but there are more of them. Think lots of different revenue streams. And lots of different product offerings and services. For you that relish and revel in doing new things…this should come as great news. Now you can spread your wings and do all sorts of different things. And still make a career out of it – a hyphenated career (think multiple specializations).

For most of us, this requires a brand new attitude and a brand new skill set. We now have to learn to wear many hats – equally well. For some of you, your hyphenated career might look something like this: portraits-weddings-events. For others, it may look like this: editorial-commercial-stock. Still to others, it may look like this: commercial-portraits-publisher.

Don’t be a slave to any one part of the equation. Reinvent yourself on a regular basis. Reinvent and re-evaluate constantly. Don’t get me wrong. I still strongly believe in specialization. You can still very much specialize in all of your hyphenated career paths. Most definitely. And I would encourage you to do just that.

As we all develop hyphenated careers in photography, the real test is going to come in how we market and promote. Since we’ll be most likely catering to different audiences…do we have to have a different website, blogsite, social-media channel for each? Or do we market under sub domain and subfolders? Only time will tell.

No matter how you hyphenate or zigzag or checkerboard – at the end of the day, it’s still about you. And it’s still about your products, services and subscriptions. There is no right or wrong way to do this. There is no one path to career success. No rulebook. No simple-to-follow how-to’s.

Be passionate. Be exceptional. Be remarkable. Be hyphenated!

‘Memento Mori’ is a Latin phrase that can be translated as ‘remember your mortality’ or ‘remember you must die’ or ‘remember you will die’.

It has been used, throughout history, to describe man’s mortality, humanity, and transience. I’m using it here to talk about the perishability of success.

Let’s face it. A sense of celebrity is fleeting. One day you’re on top of the charts with your customers and colleagues. The next day…you’re not even ON the charts. Even in photography circles.

As photographers, we would serve ourselves well to embrace the perishability of our successes. Enjoy them for what they are, but move on. And move on quickly. In other words, it’s healthy to develop amnesia in terms of our wins, our triumphs, and our conquests. Enjoy them for the moment. But hurriedly move past them. For these victorious moments are perishable and short-lived. Not only must you remember that you are mortal, you must also remember that tomorrow is another day. And as good as today is, tomorrow you’re going to need to go out and fight the good fight…again.

The fewer real successes we have in our photographic careers, the more we pine and linger over them. That’s natural. But we hold on way too tight. Afraid to let them go. As though they will never be repeated again. ‘Memento Mori’. Remember your perishability. Remember you are mortal. Don’t live in the past. Live in the present. And dream of the future. Seize the day!

It’s also a pretty freeing experience to really let go of your successes – regardless of how big or small they were. Because it gets you emotionally and creatively focused on today and tomorrow. It gets you thinking ahead and not looking back.

Career photographic success depends not on you sentimentally languishing over some gone-by achievement. Career photographic success depends on you embracing the here and now. Look for today’s achievements. And toward tomorrow’s.

I love how ‘Memento Mori’ was used in ancient Rome. Slaves where assigned to the conquering generals. In their victories and even during their celebration speeches, the slave was to whisper ‘Memento Mori’ to remind these celebrated heroes not only of their own mortality, but also the perishability of their own successes.

Photographers need to hear this very same whisper. Every day. Every event. Every victory. We are mortal. Our triumphs are fleeting. While we may be enjoying the spoils of today, tomorrow we must fight new dragons. And embrace future victories.

I am heartily man. I am heartily mortal. My victories are perishable. I seize the day. ‘Memento Mori’.

One of the greatest virtues you can have as a photographer is honesty. I’m not talking about moral correctness (although, God knows, we need a pretty healthy dose of this in our industry). I’m talking about honesty of vision. Being truthful and accepting of who you are as a creative photographer.

Our photographic industry does a pretty good job at memorializing our photographic heroes – past and present. These ‘name brand’ giants are highly esteemed. As they should be. We cherish their work. We salute them. We honor them. We celebrate their greatness. Sadly, we also try to imitate them, rather than just be inspired by them. This is dishonesty of vision. Also, if left unchecked, this will lead to never really finding out what your own vision is. Or maybe even finding out too late.

It’s great to be inspired. It’s not so great to imitate.

No matter how old you are, or what your circumstance in life is, or what your skill set is, or what kind of gear you shoot with, or what your experiences have been…you have a one-of-a-kind opportunity to be as unique as a snowflake, a thumbprint, or a grain of sand.

Your experiences, by both nature and nurture, have provided you an unrivaled opportunity not only to have your own vision, but also to celebrate that vision in everything you do.

Unlike some photographic super heroes you admire, you may never find public greatness in your own vision, but you will surely find happiness. I promise.

It took me years, at the beginning of my career, to figure out why I spent so much time mimicking and replicating the vision of others. I hadn’t yet found or fostered my own vision. But even after developing what I thought was my own vision, I continued to emulate rather than invent.

There is not a single person on the planet that has your combined attributes, imagination, experience and skill-set. Not one who can see and interpret the world like you can. Be honest with yourself. And to yourself. Be honest to your vision.

Part of that honesty involves knowing what you’re good at. And equally knowing what you are not good at. Honesty of vision can also show you what you are passionate about, what interests you the most, where you find the most joy in photography. What subjects, topics, events, and moments give you the greatest pleasure in capturing? Answer these questions and you’ll be close to defining an honest vision.

If you are truly honest in and to your vision…you’ll begin to see, over time, consistency and regularity in the look and feel of what you shoot. If you’re not being honest to your vision…the opposite will hold true. Your work will be all over the board. With no uniformity or harmony.

Even after 30 years of being a pro photographer, I continue to be inspired by the work of others. I continue to stand humbly on the shoulders of great shooters who have come before. I continue to admire, acclaim, respect and hold them in high regard. But I do not and will not replicate someone else’s vision. That doesn’t satisfy. That doesn’t bring happiness.

Are you content with what and how you shoot? Are you genuinely happy with your vision? If not, maybe it’s time to get honest with who you are. And what you are photographically about. Be honest.

Most of you know I’m a huge Seth Godin fan. I have read everything he has ever written. One of my favorite books that Seth authored is called Tribes: We Need You to Lead Us. Amazing content. If you’re currently building a community or tribe…run out and get this book right now. Read it from cover to cover.

I like the word ‘tribe’. It’s raw. Organic. Visceral. And seems more relevant to how we call and classify our social, personal and professional groups.

A tribe isn’t about numbers. It’s about names. It’s not about crowds but community. It’s not about quantity but quality. It’s not about mass or multitudes. But content and connections. This is a great lesson for those of us active on Twitter and Facebook. It’s not about the size of our follower base. It’s about the substance of our follower base.

In most online communities, large or small, about 10% of a membership list is active. And even a smaller amount that contribute ongoing and repeat participation.

Crowds are groups of people with surface connections. Tribes are people with serious connections. Your job, as a photographer, is to build tribes, not crowds. Develop relationships, not just followers. And I’m not just talking about photographer-to-photographer tribes. But photographer-to-customer tribes as well. You need both.

Tribes, in their truest sense, are like families with shared interests, values, aspirations, and goals. Tribes, like families, look out for each other. When you invest in your tribe, as I do, you’re investing in viral marketing. Share the love. And the love will be shared with you.

Monetizing your tribe is a much more daunting and delicate task. The rules for how to do this are still being written. It can be done. But it takes Herculean salesmanship, showmanship and craftsmanship to successfully pull off. But don’t get ahead of yourself. The primary purpose of building a tribe is not to monetize. But to mentor, coach, consult, counsel, teach, tutor, and develop good will. Monetization is a distant second. And most assuredly will only happen once you have proven your expertise and worth to your tribe. Build your influence first. Then a return-on-investment second.

Throughout my three-decade career, I’ve never experienced a tribe life as I do on Twitter. I haven’t quite figured out what exactly makes this so magical and moving for me. But I know it’s real, strong, productive, and genuine. End of story. Twitter rules!

Like Seth suggests, tribes need more leaders. What about you? Anyone ready to step up to the plate and lead? I’m not talking about leadership-as-notoriety model. But leadership-as-shepherding model. Our photography industry has yet to see what change and revolution can be born out of strategic tribes and skillful leadership.

Let’s make a pact to help our tribes change the world. For good. Let’s make a difference. Let’s shake things up. Let’s create a brand new context for photography that history remembers us for. Let’s get tribal!!

I am capable of making mistakes. Lots of them. Ask anyone close to me.

My first ever commercial gig…I shot without any film in the camera. Yep. I was so worried about lighting, metering, Polaroid and dealing with the client that I forgot to load my trusty Mamiya RZ67 with 120 film.

Last month, I shot a project on my Mark 2 1DS (which doesn’t handle high ISO’s very well) at 1200 ISO. It looked horrible. I am fallible.

Just a few weeks back, in going through a commercial edit, I missed my key exposures not by a little but by a long shot. Like 2 stops. I was in a hurry. Got cocky. Didn’t slow down to look at my histogram. The list goes on and on. Even after three decades of being a pro shooter, I still make plenty of mistakes. Technically and emotionally.

I follow other pros that talk about their mistakes. And don’t hide them or cover them up. Admitting your mistakes is not only therapeutic; it’s also a good way to safeguard you against not making that same mistake again in the future.

So many of the photographers we venerate, in social media, seem infallible. And incapable of making mistakes. That’s usually because it’s the story they spin. Not at all the reality of a working pro. Pros make mistakes. Lots of them. Every day.

I don’t care who you are. Or how long you’ve been in the photography business. You will make mistakes. Embrace them. Learn from them. Get past them. Admit them. Obviously, if you have a large social media following, you’ll want to balance your failures with your successes. Either extreme is not healthy.

Amateurs think pros are immune and impervious to mistakes – small or large. Hardly! Pros probably make more technical mistakes than amateurs. You just don’t hear them talk about it as much.

Here’s the point of it. You make a lot less mistakes when you’re honestly open to making mistakes. That’s right. Sometimes photographers work so hard and diligently at protecting their egos and public reputations that they end up making more mistakes than they need to make. Relax. Admit. You are fallible. You will make mistakes. Expect them in your career.

There are some, here on Twitter, that you surmise are perfect.  Their craft is perfect. Their compositions are perfect.  Their exposures are perfect. Their Photoshop work is perfect. Their studios are perfect. Their marketing is perfect. Wrong. The more someone builds up this pretense of perfection, the more likely they are to fall.

It takes a giant of an individual to be open about their giant mistakes. Small individuals only make small mistakes.

Why don’t you come clean today? Publicly admit a few mistakes you’ve made. Be humble. Be truthful. Be vulnerable. Be fallible.