It's Monday morning and for me that means a few things. It means my amazing friend Becky is here
watching my boys so I can do work. Monday
means that I have approximately 7 hours to myself, to drink coffee while it is
still hot and email my remarkable clients without my two-year old asking to see
pictures of trains on my computer. It
means I can spend the day going over sessions of beautiful photos while
listening to good music or an excellent book.
It means I can go to the bathroom by myself and run to the post office
without needing to bribe anyone with anything.
I love Mondays.
It also means things are quiet enough for me to think about
what it is I do. I get to spend time
being thankful for the past year where I have been fully self-employed and for
the people who have surrounded me, supported me and lifted me up when I have
fallen down. A year ago right now I was
due with our second son and unlike his brother, he was not planning on showing
up early.
It was one of the most exciting and nerve racking times of
my life. I had quit my full time job
nannying, where I could bring my son Soren along and it was the best of both
worlds, working mom and stay-at-home mom.
But something was missing and I couldn't shake the feeling that despite
being "busy" I wasn't spending my time well. So my husband looked at me and said,
"Let's do this, I trust God and I trust you and your creativity." Talk about humbling and weighty all at the
same time.
As much as I was eager to take on the lovely clients that
would come my way, I started to realize more and more that I needed to seek out
avenues to be creative if I wanted to grow.
So I decided what it was that my
heart wanted to make and I pursued it.
I decided that I needed to buck up and ask people with remarkable
stories and ordinary stories and beautiful stories if I could take their
pictures. I didn't ask them for money
but just the chance to explore a vision of a world that tells good stories and
not just tragedies. I emailed friends
and asked if I could shoot their weddings simply because I loved their style
and I wanted to create art with them. I
took up watercolors and hand-lettering, not because I'm especially good at
either of them, but because I was tired of thinking that not being an expert at
something was reason enough not to do it.
I partnered with beautifully talented people and learned from them and
with them and found out that sometimes they feel just as lost as I do. I realized that I love sunrises and even though I hate mornings, sunrises
make mornings worth it. And in all those
things that filled up my heart on my own terms, I made no money.
Now that isn't to say I didn't ever make money, I shot
weddings and senior portraits and family session and head shots and worked with
terrific people I am honored to call my friends now. But the pursuit of creativity, of finding my
voice and seeking out stories that the world needs to hear, rarely comes with a
paycheck. That does not, however, mean
it doesn't have value.
In a world that automatically defines value as monetary, I
think it is the job of the creatives to turn our perspectives to something much
greater than money. I think we need to
redeem value as cultivating a full life even in the simplest of things.
If the value of my job as an artist (which by the way, it
has taken me five years in this business to refer to myself as an artist) lies
solely in the pursuit of dollars and cents I would never stop working. It would mean the time spent with my husband
or children or a good book or great friends is worthless. When we determine value as capital and not as
cherished time, we tell those around us that their presence isn't warranted
unless it gets us something.
One of my favorite times each week is on Wednesday mornings,
Soren and I paint water colors while Jude sleeps. He paints me Seahawks and fire trucks and
trains and I work on making floral wreaths and he tells me they're beautiful
and I tell him he's amazing. I lose
money on time not spent working and paper used and the number of stain removers
needed to clean our carpets, but I couldn't care less. This is valuable to me.
Recently I've had a lot of conversations with other
photographers who have been struggling with the same thing. The constant onslaught of people telling us
what to charge and how to charge it.
Reminding them to be bold in determining their worth and demanding
it. But the more we talk about it, the
more we're tired of it. No one else can
define what you determine to be valuable.
Is it worth it to shoot the wedding simply for the beauty of
it? Then shoot it. Is it worth making the print just so everyone
can have a bit of encouragement? Make
it, share it, be proud of it. Does the
chance to go home fill your heart enough to do the work just for the cost of
travel? Pack your bags. Are the lyrics something you need to get out
of your heart because they need to be heard by a world that needs better
music? Sing it out. You are free to spend your creativity however
you choose.
I'm not saying that bills don't need to be paid and I would
never advocate for debt to take over in the quest for inspiration. But if the value no longer resides in the art
but in the affluence, it might be time to reevaluate your purposes.
I am writing this listening to one of my very favorite
artists, my longtime friend Aaron Espe. I
have known him since I was born and I know that making music has been a long
road for him and it continues to be a remarkable journey, but if he had just
done it for the money he probably would have stopped after leaving Roseau,
MN. I am so grateful that he continued
to find value in the creative process because his music fills my Mondays.
So be bold in how you seek out the creative, get daring in
what you conceive, get fierce with the time you spend with those you love,
learn something simply for the sake of gaining knowledge. Love what you make and make what you love and
join the revolution of transitioning the definition of value from cash to
craftsmanship. Your creativity has
value, spend it well.
- September 21, 2015
- 2 Comments