This Angela Pointon‘s first blog post as a regular contributor to Tiffinbox. Please welcome her by reading her article and posting your thoughts in the comments section below. Her book, “The Art of a Photography Business” is coming soon. Follow Angela on Twitter.

It was a cold evening in May. The wind was whipping and the chill on my skin felt like needles. Being outside was painful. It was that night that I decided to slide my film SLR into the frigid nylon interior of my camera bag. I didn't know it would be the last time I saw it, and I didn't know that, after that night, I wouldn't touch another camera for 12 years.

That evening was the nightfall of a best friend's wedding. I put my camera bag down to hug the happy couple and wish them well, and when I went to look for it a few minutes later, it was gone. For all of you who've had equipment stolen, you know how much that sucks. As a photographer, I firmly believe you build a relationship with your tools. You work with them for so long, that you instinctively know the clicking sound they make and the idiosyncrasies about them… almost as if you're in an extended love affair together.

But getting my camera stolen was only the kick off of my hiatus away from capturing images. I certainly could have bought a replacement. But I didn't.

Here are my real reasons for putting down my camera …

1. Money

I just could not comprehend how a photography career would support me both financially and as a professional. I remember taking one business class in undergraduate school where they loosely talked about why you need a contract, why you should become an LLC and stuff like that. They never discussed the how, but they definitely discussed the why (and it was scary to my young 21 year-old self).

I couldn't connect the dots between photography and how it would support me. I decided I didn't want to live in Manhattan after working there and commuting back and forth from Philadelphia for about a year. I was taught that NYC was where you had to be if you wanted to make it. Social media was non-existent, film, chemicals and a darkroom or very expensive lab were the only options, and the upfront costs for launching my own photo business seemed ridiculously daunting, risky and doomed.

2. Failure

The photography program I attended had some bold, many times harsh, professors. Critiques were conducted with the intention of “preparing students for the harsh words that clients would definitely be using”. In other words, the variety of climaxes involved in the various classes I took (i.e. when you were showing your work) were structured to prepare you for a lifetime of rejection, insults and “truth”. As a very positive person, this sounded like a life of pure hell.

3. Readiness

At the time, I just wasn't ready. I knew I had a ton more to learn about business and there was something else waiting for me to discover and fall in love with. I spent three years in graduate school earning my MBA and studying the art and science behind marketing. After that, I spent seven years at a marketing agency practicing it for hundreds of million dollar businesses, so that I could learn from mistakes that didn't cost me as a professional. I've watched what it takes to massively succeed, and I've watched what it takes to fail.

I bought a digital SLR the month before my first son was born. I read the instruction manual, understood about 25% of it and started shooting again. It made a different sound. Not nearly as nostalgic as my film SLR's clunk when the shutter snapped open, but I got used to it. Admittedly, I still don't understand all of its functionality, but, then again, I don't aspire to, really. I don't enjoy thinking about technical details. I much prefer thinking about what I was trained to think about: design, composition, color and light. I'm old school, using a new school device.

I wanted to tell you my story of photography, because it drove what I do today. With so much negativity from outside forces, I put down my camera for 12 very long years. And no one reading this should ever resolve to do that. I am here to motivate, inspire, nudge, inform, cheer on, support and otherwise applaud you every day. Getting notes and comments of thanks is your support back to me to keep this bubble of positivity growing.

For those of you who never put your camera down … you are my heroes. For those of you who are pondering putting it down, wondering how you'll survive with so many photographers and often times feel like just throwing in the towel … I believe there is great hope for you.

My grandma, who gave me my first camera, a Kodak 110 with the disposable flash cubes that blew up with each shot, believed that anything was possible if you worked hard at it. In her mind, good things rarely came easy. The best things came with sweat and toughness (and a soft rabbit's foot in the pocket for luck couldn't hurt, either).

I know I'm just about the only one out there, but I actually believe this is an incredible time to be a photographer. The photography community is beginning to grow together, share information and get stronger as a collective group. People are challenged to work smarter and think differently. The free or drastically underpriced photographers will not prevail. They aren't sharing and they are structuring their businesses in a highly unsustainable manner. They won't last.

History favors the boldest and fiercest. I'll be the one cheering you on.

The dictionary definition of “thrive” is – prosper; flourish. What makes your “thrive”?

I am sure you all remember this video by Zack Arias that went viral. Zack is back again, after a nine-week hiatus on social media (well, being online constantly, I suppose) to create this new video for Scott Kelby's blog.

I feel you must watch this right away. It's only five minutes long. So, take a look and comment below:

“Feed your soul. Not your feed.”

Like you, I am juggling a job, a business, a family with kids, this blog and a project called Amata Pictures. There is always “stuff to do.” But I worry sometimes if I am doing the “right stuff” at the “right time.”

My friend Eric O'Connor is all about being “agile.” That's an interesting word, isn't it? The concept, according to Eric, is a simple one: DO SOMETHING, but focus on action rather than inaction. Eric is teaching me to prioritize the things that must be done to run a business. He is a natural mentor and I thank him for his patience and perhaps more for his persistence when dealing with me and my various “attractions.” Do you want to become an agile photographer too?

If there is one goal (not a resolution) in 2013 that I would like to reach, it is to only do the things in my life that add value. When I think about it, I run through the day doing a lot that is just all “noise” and no “signal.” It's time to turn that around. It is time to thrive. So, yes, less Twitter, perhaps more Facebook. Shorter blog posts on Tiffinbox. And, definitely more photography that evokes honest feelings for my clients and in me. More time spent with my family and less time in front of a computer. And who knows, I might reach for my sneakers and start running again.

I stumbled upon Matthew May's book, “The Laws of Subtraction: 6 Simple Rules for Winning in the Age of Excess Everything.” You might want to either buy it or check it out at your local library. It is possible to achieve more by doing less of the wrong things in life. At least, that's the way I am starting to see it.

Do you?

Have you thought about stepping away from it all, to clear your mind and reconnect to what is truly important in your life? If you have taken a break like that, describe it to us below. What do you thrive on? Your comments might inspire others to do the same.

Today's guest bloggers are Paul & Sylvia. They are Toronto, Canada-based wedding photographers. Find them on Facebook or Twitter. You are likely to see them guest blog here as a monthly contributors. Please welcome them on board!

I think it's safe to say that most of us, despite it all, got into wedding photography or any other photography business for the same reason.  To make money. I know, I know, we are artists and we are doing this because we love what we do. This is essential, no question. You need to keep the fire stoked and the wheels turning. So what's next?  Well we all know the importance of being a good salesman, for there are many brilliant, starving artists. But where do we go from here? Well, let me tell you a little story.

When Sylvia and I started out as wedding photographers and were hungry for clients, anyone willing to sign and pay our package price seemed like a great client to us. We thought, hey, we're getting paid, filling up our calendar and maybe we'll get some referrals. We would lower the price a little too quickly just to book a new wedding and began to find that everything would always come down to price. This is not the client base we were looking for. Our clients seemed happy, but the referrals just didn't come. What were we missing? Well it was at Mystic Seminars last year that the answer presented itself like a ray of sunshine through the clouds.

The answer came when one of the speakers introduced us to “The Golden Circle”. It is a simple model on how to inspire and it is the brainchild of visionary, Simon Sinek. Here is a link to TED talk presentation. It changed everything. The model itself is simple, picture three circles set inside one another. The outside ring is “What” the inner one is “How” and the centre is “Why”. A conventional company will state “What” they do, then “How” they do it, but most never make it to “Why”. This is the approach that most of us took when we started out and sadly, it's where a lot of businesses stay. There is no emotion involved in this and lets face it wedding photography and portrait photography are all about emotion. It's simply “This is what we do, here is how you can buy it”.  

Now picture your business using the opposite approach. When you start with “Why”, you have immediately attached emotion. When Sylvia and I started implementing this our results changed almost overnight. At every consultation we showed the couple how excited and happy we were to be apart of their day, how much we loved creating new relationships and the energy level would soar. By simply showing our potential clients how lucky we felt to be doing what we do, we created a connection.

Isn't this industry all about relationships? We started to find that everybody we booked our wedding photography service were like old friends. We started regularly receiving emails after a consultation telling us how much they enjoyed talking with us and how excited they are that they were able to book us for their wedding. Yes, there is the odd couple that we don't feel the connection with and funny, they don't book. We are okay with this. It wasn't meant to be. We have found that the “shopping around for the best price” couples don't even contact us anymore. The most amazing thing we found was the referrals. We had multiple referrals from several brides immediately after the booking, before experiencing the service or before they had seen the photos! The price also seems to be less and less of a concern with couples spending more than ever.

Now, don't misunderstand, we know that there is a lot more to this game. We offer amazing service, awesome products and a fantastic experience. But if we hadn't changed how we approach our potential clients in the first place, things would be very different. Think about how you do things, are you starting with “Why”?

What is YOUR “why”? Brave enough to share it with us? Comment below!

Ron Dawson is president and creative director of Dare Dreamer Media, a new media marketing and film and video production agency that focuses on helping brands tell cause-driven and inspirational stories. He writes about the art and business of filmmaking and photography at DareDreamerMag.com and hosts Crossing the 180: The Filmmakers Podcast that Breaks the Rules. Follow Ron on Twitter and Facebook.

Photographers are passionate people. The Nikon vs. Canon battle (or is that Canon vs. Nikon) is right up there with Mac vs. Windows. Democrat vs Republican. Back Street Boys vs. New Kids on the Block (Or should that be Justin Bieber vs. One Direction?) Well, I suppose that artists in general are passionate. You have to be passionate about your art if you plan to make a living at it. Wait, let me amend that. You actually DON'T have to be passionate about your art if you want to make a living at it.

Let that sink in a bit …

Are you fuming? Are you perturbed? Did I ruffle your feathers? Burst your bubble? Put a kink in your armor? Throw a wrench in your … well, you get the idea.

If you're like many professional photographers I have come across, a statement like the one I just mentioned could be enough to send you into a social media frenzy akin to a jihad. “How dare I say you don't have to be passionate about your craft?”

I can say it because it's true. You do not have to be passionate about filmmaking or photography or quilting to make a living at it. Do you really think the owner of Glamour Shots is “passionate” about photography? I don't know if he/she/it is? I just know that it's one of the largest photography businesses in the world and it's blatantly obvious it's not built on a passion for the craft.

Likewise, we are all familiar with the “starving artist”. That individual who is true to his/her craft. Pure in heart and spirit. She would rather slit her wrist than Photoshop in a sky. Would not be caught dead using a point and shoot. And some of them even think film is still alive (Ouch! Why'd you have to go there Ron?)

A Brief History

This is one of those debates you can never win. It's kind of like arguing about religion. Either you believe it or you don't. Some of you may be converted then fall to one side vs. the other. But in the end, most of you are firmly encamped in your beliefs. And woe to the person who says otherwise.

I was first introduced to the passionate sides of this debate a few years ago when well-known, award-winning photographer Jesh De Rox held a free webinar. At the end he pitched a 1-day workshop that cost $20,000. That is not a typo. Twenty thousand dollars. OMG. You would've thought he publicly lambasted the Pope or something. (That workshop wasn't the main pitch, it was actually more of a “would you like fries with that” kind of pitch.) The blog post I wrote about it to this day remains the most popular.

There have been other provocative luminaries in the photography world who have caused their fair share of eyebrow-raising and vitriol spewing: Jasmine Star. David Jay (can you say “Photo System“). Gary Fong. Denis Reggie. Kevin Swan. All these guys at some point or another did (or continues to do) something related to their business that rubs the aforementioned “auteurs” the wrong way.

The “heroes” on the other end of the debate are people like my good friend Zack Arias. Zack is in essence the patron saint of photography. He is awesome. His craft is undeniable. But here's the irony. He also has a lot of great business advice to give too. Despite the fact that Zack often leads (or at least inspires) the social media frenzies I mentioned, at least he's a person who is not so blinded or enamored by “the craft,” that he doesn't also realize the importance of “the commerce” aspect. But, I pity tha fool who gets on the wrong side of Zack's massive photography following.

Striking a Balance

In my humble opinion, it all comes down to striking a balance. Look, if you want to do your art strictly for art's sake, then keep it as a hobby. Spend as many hours as you like in the editing room. Take as many shots as you want so that you have 20,000 images to cull through. Go HDR crazy!

But if you want to make a living at your craft… If you want to quit your day job and support your family, then you will have to make choices. Choices that may contradict the purist in you. You may have to do jobs that are “good enough” and not “great.” You may have to take work that doesn't inspire you. You will have to put systems in place that curb your creativity, e.g. you can't take 20,000 images at a wedding or portrait session. Nor can you spend 30 minutes on each photo making it look just right.

Likewise, you should be invested in improving your craft. Continuously educate yourself. Keep up with the latest technologies. Go to workshops. Watch online videos. Read books. Allocate some time during the week to practice. All of these things are important. (Although, I could still make the argument that they are not crucial when it comes to growing your business. But I don't think some of you could handle it).

Conflicted

I have a confession to make. I am sincerely conflicted on this topic. Only in as much as for the past few years I've actually been passionate about getting back to my “roots” as a filmmaker. Among my clients and friends, my work is seen as exceptional and I'm known for my craft. When I first got started in the business, even among my peers, I was lauded for my craft. But within the filmmaking industry itself, my “fame” (for lack of a better word, for I would hardly say I'm “famous”) came about because of my business prowess, not my craft. I co-wrote (with my wife) a business book about filmmaking. I was on Zacuto's Film Fellas, mainly to represent the business voice of the industry. The lectures I was asked to make at expos like WPPI and WEVA were related to things like social media and branding. For a while, no one was interested in a Ron Dawson seminar on “How to be a Filmmaker.” Much of that was my own doing. I too frequently preached the “good enough” sermon. My pendulum swung too far to the commerce side.

It was that Zacuto Film Fellas recording that changed that. I was moved by the passion of my co-guests, Patrick Moreau (of StillMotion fame) and Kevin Shahinian, world-class wedding filmmaker who makes the most amazing concept films. After being exposed to their passion for excellence, I was moved to focus more on the craft-side of my business. That was the year I started shooting with DSLRs primarily. I actively started changing my brand in the filmmaking world. I changed my profile pic to more of an “artist” style. I used to write exclusively about business on my blog. Now I try to balance it with a healthy does of art as well. I started teaching the craft more online and at WPPI. And here's the biggest kicker: I actually believe that I will be able to improve my business by putting out higher quality work. After two years of interviewing top filmmakers on my podcast, I've learned that personal work can play a huge role in getting noticed and winning larger jobs. So I'm working on doing more personal work (my current opus is Mixed in America, a documentary series about race relations and personal identity among biracial people.)

But, regardless of how much I get into my craft, I will never forget the importance of maintaining my business. I keep my systems in place. I still do “good enough” when the client hasn't paid for “great.” I'm looking for people to fill in the roles where I'm weak (or need help). I use social media and marketing strategies. I do what I have to do to make the business grow.

But if my love for my craft continues to grow, who knows. I may actually forgo the business to go back to the corporate world so that I can indeed focus on my craft the way I want. There is no shame in that. In fact, that is what I think many of you should do. Turning your passion for art into a business is often a sure-fire way to kill that passion. Keeping it “on the side” is one of the four ways in which I believe an artist can maximize his/her creative output.

Challenge

My challenge to you is to take an honest assessment of where you fall on the commerce vs. craft scale. Do you lean more to one side vs. the other? Do you need to make an adjustment and strike a balance? Ask a loved one or a spouse to give you feedback. It just may be time for a change.

Today's guest post is by David Moore, a photographer and multimedia expert in Santa Fe, New Mexico. He is pretty active on Twitter, where you can learn more from him. Check out his website, Clearing The Vision: Documenting The Everyday Joys Of Family Life.

Stop me before I look at another gear website

My name's David and I'm a gear review junkie. It's a blessing to be surrounded by all this great photography information and constant improvements every year from manufacturers, but it's also a curse. You end up never satisfied with what you've got, and it can actually hinder your improvement as a photographer (and drive you bankrupt if your'e a pro).

We spend all this time devouring news and reviews, speculating over the amazing images we'd make with new gear, but deep down we know that what we have already is likely more than good enough. It's just easier to read up on stuff than to go out and work hard.

It starts simply enough. There's a new camera or lens announced that promises to be better than what you currently have in some particular way – sharpness, focus speed, low-light performance, whatever.

Oh, says your Gear Acquisition Syndrome (GAS – thanks to Zack Arias for the useful term), you want to be prepared. You want to have the best gear, to deliver the best service. You should read up on this new shiny bauble, and maybe even get it.

So then you disappear down a rabbit hole. You compare MTF charts, you read five different reviews of the same thing, pixel peep giant sample files, and then it gets worse as you start reading forum discussions.

Soon, it's an hour later and you're looking for bad images on the website of a landscape photographer in New Zealand who made some comment you didn't like discussing a camera you've never seen, and you realize … what the hell am I doing?

People have taken amazing photographs for decades with cameras much worse than mine. And some of my favourite images are those I shot with my first DSLR – a Rebel XT – and the cheap plastic Canon 50mm f/1.8.

If this were a hobby for me, then reading photography gear reviews would be a leisure activity. Like cycling enthusiasts reading bike reviews – it's part of the lifestyle, something that comes with being part of the club. I might be able to improve my photography more by doing something else but if it's a hobby, and if I love looking at 100% crops of the edge sharpness of a particular lens, then I should go right ahead and do it. And if I have disposable income and want to spend it on gear I don't need, then that's my choice.

But this is a job for me, so my concerns are (or should be) different. From a business perspective, I need to spend the least amount of money I can on gear to successfully complete the paying jobs I have. If I spend any more, then I'm not making as much profit as I can. There might be times when successfully completing a job means having all sorts of expensive gear (like Chase Jarvis and his range of helicopters), but that's not most of us.

So for a pro, having the absolute best gear is not always the best solution – having good enough gear is better. Wedding photogs all have stories of guests at the reception with better cameras than they have – but it doesn't matter if you can't even get the best out of what you have. You could give me the best guitar in the world, but it's not going to win me a Grammy.

Pros also need to budget their time as well as their money. The time I spend thinking about gear is time I'm not earning, marketing, improving my skills, networking or doing anything else that will improve my business or my craft more immediately.

Amateur or pro, it's clear that we'd produce markedly better images if we stopped fetishising the latest new announcements and actually went out and photographed more and more thoughtfully, read more books, or attended more workshops.

A documentary photography workshop attended (led by Deanne Fitzmaurice) earlier this year was a much better investment than putting that money into the 35mm f/1.4 lens I'd been coveting. I learned a ton and throughout the four days not once did the subject of specific gear even come up. I still have no idea what most of the other attendees were even shooting with – it just didn't matter.

Unless you have money in your pocket and you've been butting up against a very specific limitation in the gear you currently have that's hindering your progress, then you have no place reading gear reviews.

Obviously, I'm not the first to point this out (David duChemin has made his ‘gear is good, vision is better' approach a key part of his career, but since I'm suffering from a bad case of GAS myself right now, it's time for some hard medicine.

Here's what I prescribe:

1) Unless you've identified a real need for new piece of gear, and have the money to buy it, don't look at gear reviews. At all.

2) Go to the library and check out some photography books, especially monographs by some of the great photographers. When you get an urge to see how the D600 compares to the 6D, study their work instead, telling yourself that almost all of it was shot with gear that's worse than the stuff you've got now that you're complaining about.

3) Give yourself shooting exercises and personal projects so you can improve your craft, and get to know the gear you've got intimately, Find out where it's good and where it's not – it might turn out that the stuff it's not great at doesn't actually matter. For example, the Canon 35mm f/2 I've got vignettes at the corners and has a really buzzy noise as it focuses. Both of those are Bad Things, but neither of them matter much for me. DuChemin's Craft and Vision publishers offer some good ebooks to give you ideas on projects and tutorials you can follow.

4) Wait until you're in a situation where your current gear is repeatedly letting you down in real world (preferably paid) shoots, before you even think about getting new gear. Then, if you need something for a paying job, rent it first. If the next paying job for which you need it is not for another two months, rent it again. Only buy it if you know it will pay for itself in a year or so

5) You get extra points if you can sell some other gear to make room for the replacement.

If you're an amateur, you can relax these rules a little … but try not to be the doctor or lawyer with $10,000 of Leica's finest, and no idea how to use it all.

Yes it's fun that we immerse ourselves in the gadget porn that's part of photography. But if we're spending more time thinking about gear than about images, we're getting things backwards. So if you see me heading towards dpreview.com anytime soon, kindly shove a camera in my hand and tell me to get outside and shoot.

Here are a few examples of David's work – check out the slideshow & post your comments below as well: Blogshow