It is clear that the language used in the proposed legislation is too loose and that, if implemented, the new laws could harm the internet. This video below gives a quick overview of how opponents to PIPA see things.

Legislative moves to protect the copyright of creatives, including photographers, should be welcomed. However, it shouldn’t be to the detriment of the potential of photographers to earn money from their works. Were SOPA and PIPA to be voted into law, and were governments worldwide to follow the USA’s lead, it would severely harm the ability of photographers to monetize their work.

The internet is a fabulous marketing and delivery mechanism for photographers, giving them access to a global marketplace. In a bid to shield creatives from copyright abuse, the US government could set a process in motion that destroys income rather than protects it. What’s the point of preserving copyright in your work, if in the process you close a vital means to monetize that copyright?

As photographers, we should thank our legislators for endeavouring to protect our rights in the work we create. But we should also speak out if their well-intentioned attempts cause more harm than good.

And just for good measure, our favourite online spoof dictator doesn’t like it either.

The glass tipi that will be the venue for Friday's wedding at Kakslauttanen © Roger Overall 2011

Apparently, the Finns have 40 words for snow. That’s as may be, but at the moment there isn’t any. Not a flake. And none is forecast before the end of the week either.

The locals are scratching their heads. At this time of year, there should be a thick layer. Nor are the rivers frozen over, which is hampering efforts to catch reindeer. Doubtless the reindeer aren’t fussed. For me, the absence of snow will severely impact on the commercial value of the photographs I take. As you can imagine, the bride is less than delighted as well.

Setback, challenge or disaster?

The financial return on my time investment will now be rather restricted. While it is undoubtedly nice to be here, the success of the whole enterprise hinges on its success in cold, hard business terms – not on how much fun I have.

When I was first approached about the assignment and the suggested terms, my reaction was to turn it down. But the bride spoke passionately about photography and I could see potential commercial revenue from the photographs. I checked the weather. Snow was pretty much guaranteed. I’m not a betting man, but it looked as close to a certainty as you could find. The combination of the emotion of a wedding and such a unique,  snow-coated location proved too tempting. Surely, the resulting photographs would appeal to outlets including tourist boards, magazines and gear manufacturers?

I’m still sure that they would.

If they had snow in them.

I’m not saying Finland is an ugly place that needs a dusting of snow to make it pretty. Quite the opposite. From a commercial point of view, though, I need it.

Options

From where I’m sitting right now, my choices are limited to one option: get on with it.

First and foremost, I must do the best job I can on Friday for the bride and groom. It is not their fault that there is no snow. After all their planning, they are extremely disappointed at this unexpected glitch.

Secondly, there is no shortage of photographs to be taken. A catalogue of images will accompany me back on Sunday, regardless.

Lastly, only months from now will I know for definite if the trip was a total bust commercially. Right now, sitting behind a beer, that isn’t a foregone conclusion. Life is peculiar. The fact that there is no snow here right now is evidence of that.

Fate doesn’t exist

I don’t believe in fate. Fate is attributed in retrospect, once things have played themselves out. Crediting fate for your success or failure takes your own actions out of the equation, leaving you powerless. Sure, you and your plans can be overwhelmed by circumstances outside your control (a rotten economy, for instance), but fate doesn’t decide what happens as a consequence. You have a say in that. Not for the full 100 per cent, because the decisions and actions of others impact on you too. But you are rarely solely the plaything of their whim.

In this particular instance of a no snow show, how things turn out from this point onwards is up to me.

This post is more philosophical than intended, but that’s how my thoughts developed as I was writing it. Feedback in the comments section is welcome as always.

Don’t forget you can follow along on Twitter as well, either in the side bar or using your favourite Twitter platform with the hashtag #LaplandWedding.

Meanwhile, here are some photographs and an AudioBoo.

The view from my taxi. The light is going to be amazing © Roger Overall 2011

Home for the next four days. Apparently, I'm sharing with the hairdresser © Roger Overall 2011

Lamp © Roger Overall 2011

That got me thinking. Does this apply to documentary photography? Does successful documentary photography rely on the photographer’s ability to exploit the luck that comes their way, rather than them just being lucky?

For instance, a wedding day is a fluid event that has a loose structure. The structure gives you something to hang on to, but generally no collective of people will ever behave the exact same way as another. Circumstances, location and personalities are always different. That makes things very unpredictable. A good documentary wedding photographer is able to process a lot of information quickly, draw out a story and lock it down in a single frame. That skill means they are able take full advantage of any luck that comes their way – that unexpected moment of joy, coincidence, light, circumstance, whatever it is that makes a photograph special

This is the exact opposite of the photographer who sprays a wedding at ten frames a second, hoping to get lucky. Rather, this is the measured approach of a photographer who seeks to tell a story in each frame, priming them to exploit that lucky moment whenever it occurs.

Can it be learned? I think maybe it can. And that has got me thinking about something else.

More to come …

Here's an example of good luck exploited for a particular purpose. It's from a recent wedding assignment in Adare, Co. Limerick. However hard I tried, I couldn't get an engaging photograph of the church. Then a mini-coach from the hotel arrived and wedding guests started disembarking. The sun came out and lit up the church creating a strong reflection in the vehicle's tinted windows. (c) Roger Overall 2011

Pick a random professional photographer’s blog. Chances are it’ll be bristling with excitement, glamour, satisfaction, success and effortless financial reward.

The problem is, that’s not reality. Not for the majority, anyway. For some, a tiny group, life as a photographer really is all of those things. Bags of cash and incredible assignments. For many, it’s the opposite. Earning a living from photography is tough. It can be a hard, soul-destroying slog at times. It’s not often spoken about, certainly not on most professional photographers’ blogs.

You can’t blame them. I mean, unless you’re selling newspapers, gloom isn’t a great marketing device. Much better to sell yourself as breezily successful. Accentuate the positive – all that stuff.

Get a professional photographer alone over a beer or a coffee, however, and you’ll hear the other side. In the past few weeks, I’ve had lots of chats with colleagues. One high-end commercial photographer in the UK told me he hasn’t photographed a single job this year. Another said he has had only a single commission in 2011. Two established wedding photographers with international reputations told me that their bookings for this year are down by 40 per cent, maybe more – with no signs that next year will be any better. That’s on top of stories of photographers sleeping in their cars and studios. Locally, I know of at least three social photographers who have closed their commercial premises.

It isn’t all unrelentingly bad. I do know, or know of, photographers who are big commercial successes, even in these troubled times. They are in the minority, though. Let that be noted.

At the heart of the pain that many photographers are feeling is the remarkable way in which technology has unleashed a tidal wave of creative expression. It is now easier than ever before to produce technically and artistically proficient photographs. Even the cheapest DSLRs give you superb quality and the internet is loaded with first-rate advice about picture taking and post-production. The only barriers to people taking striking photographs and finding an audience are their work ethic and their talent – both of which can be nurtured.

Technology has also opened up revenue channels to the masses. A good example is Flickr, which calls itself “online photo management and sharing application”. Initially, it was just that: a place for photography enthusiasts to hang out, show work and have discussions. It still is. Except now Getty, the world’s biggest provider of stock photography, is selling work harvested from Flickr through a special programme that the site’s users can sign up for, such is the commercial quality of the work being uploaded.

This combination of a mass of commercially acceptable work and new distribution channels means that getting hold of suitable (or “suitable enough”) photography has driven down the value of stock photography. It can be had for cents now. The impact on the incomes of professional stock photographers has been profound.

The same is true of other areas of professional photography: weddings, editorial, corporate, advertising – you name it. The other day, I was asked by a national broadsheet here in Ireland for a photograph for a feature. When I asked about the reproduction fee, I was told there was no budget. I have no doubt that the feature appeared, suitably illustrated with work by a photographer happy to see their image in print in return only for a name check. Can you blame the paper? Not really. If people are willing to give their work for nothing, is that the publication’s problem?

So, here we are in a world in which professional photography isn’t providing the returns on investment it once did. Yes, there are still juicy assignments out there, along with photographers making big bucks. Thing is, how long will they stay at the top? In part 3 of this series, we’ll look at an intriguing theory offered up to me recently which we’ll call the “Rock Star Principle”.

NOTE: Sometimes people read into what I have written things that aren’t there. So, I have to state clearly for the record: I have no intention of giving up professional photography. This series of articles isn’t a precursor to my retirement.

It’s an interesting and inflammatory notion. The kind of thing that you could easily start an argument with. It is a great icebreaker at awards dinners, mind you.

In the weeks since Arles, I’ve had time to reflect on this idea and the thinking that underpins it. I’m clear in my mind now where I stand in relation to it. I say ‘in my own mind’ because that is an important distinction. How you view professional photography and the satisfaction you draw from it as a photographer are personal perspectives that will colour your vision.

So before we embark on this series of articles, I should explain the view through my own goggles.

1. A sense of artistic achievement in my work is very important. That’s not the case for everyone. There are plenty of professional photographers for whom artistic merit is second to financial return – either because they have decided that they are business people first, photographers second, or because they can’t take an original photograph to begin with. I’m going to argue in this series of articles that neither is healthy in the long term.

2. I also put a lot of stock in working with people who understand the value of good photography and respect what I do. Respect for photographers and photography is at an all-time low at the moment. Professional photographers aren’t blameless in this. Their actions in some instances, and their inaction in others, have contributed to the current image of professional photography among the public in general and their target market specifically. There are also reasons which are beyond the control of photographers. Either way, I have noticed a sharp change in attitudes towards professional photographers, which is causing friction between them and their clients.

3. Point 2 is one half of a two-way street. While I enjoy working with people who want to work with me, it is important that I can fulfill my side of the bargain as well: I must want to work with them. Over the past few years, I’ve become better at identifying which clients and projects appeal to me and interest me. That leads to better work and an enjoyable experience all round. One of the benefits of age is that you realize life is too short to waste by doing things that don’t engage you.

4. I would like my work to be significant in some way. It doesn’t have to be big. I have no ambition for my photographs to change the world. But I would like them to have a lasting meaning for someone, somewhere.

5. My work, the long hours I put in, the sacrifices I make (and the much bigger ones made by my wife) and the emotional roller coaster ride of running a small business should result in a comfortable pay grade. I’m not looking for riches, merely a nice return on my skills and hard work.

Those are the five key things that I would ideally like to get out of professional photography. They combine to present a dilemma. For the most part, full-time professional photography doesn’t fit well with them.

In part 2, we’ll look at the reality for many professional photographers in Ireland today.

NOTE: Sometimes people read into what I have written things that aren’t there. So, I have to state clearly for the record: I have no intention of giving up professional photography. This series of articles isn’t a precursor to my retirement.

In one instance, that honesty got me a free cup of coffee when a friend took time away from a demanding tender process to sit me down to give me a piece of advice. “Stay in the game,” he said. He’d heard me speak among friends far more freely than I would dare to here, and he was concerned I was about to announce my retirement from photography altogether. That, he said, would deprive people of something good. Actually, he was more complimentary than that even, but you get the point. And you can imagine how moved I was that he took the trouble to talk to me face-to-face.

I have my bad days and my melodramatic moments, but it isn’t my intention to leave photography. Quite the opposite. I’ve been working on a plan that will indeed keep me in the game; though not, perhaps, on the same playing fields.

I’ve made no secret of the fact that my wedding photography assignments are down this year by a shade under 40%, and next year is looking bleak. I wrote about the reasons here. In short: more photographers looking to eat from the same decreasing pie is making photographers put price at the forefront of their marketing strategies. I recently attended a meeting of wedding photographers in Dublin. There was a split in the room between what I would call the Artists and the Pragmatists. The Artists, by far the minority, emphasized personal vision and voice. The Pragmatists argued that professional photographers need to do whatever it takes to get the business: lower prices, give couples hundreds upon hundreds of images, do disc only, give more for less, whatever the brides wanted. I hardly need to tell you in which camp I have pitched my tent.

By choosing the side I have, I face a tough decision. It has become apparent that the niche I inhabit in the wedding photography market is not a very big one, and it is getting smaller. I have to face up to the reality that as my wedding bookings decline, each wedding I do photograph has to carry an increased burden in terms of covering the costs of my business. That in turn means less profit from each wedding with which to support my family. Eventually, it becomes unsustainable.

I can offset that decline in wedding work by increasing my corporate work. That is true, and you won’t be surprised to hear that corporate documentary photography is one strand of my business plan going forward, both here in Ireland and overseas. However, weddings are time-consuming, not just in terms of the work that goes into each assignment, but also the work (and costs) that go into marketing yourself. If the volume of wedding assignments doesn’t match up to the effort and expense of acquiring them, you’re faced with an imbalance in your business. Much like I am now. I have to decide whether the juice is worth the squeeze. While I still get massive enjoyment from my wedding photography, I have to be honest with myself and admit that it is no longer a profitable business for me to be in.

What does that mean in practical terms?

Well, I shall no longer market myself as a wedding photographer, or at least not very actively. If a bride and groom approach me who are a good fit, then I will likely take the assignment. That said, I shall soon be marketing a pretty radical wedding service based on what I learned at Ann Monteith’s recent seminar here in Ireland. It will be grounded firmly in the power of quality over quantity, emphasizing the value of individual photographs. It won’t be to everyone’s taste, but it will certainly be different. And expensive. It’ll make my wedding niche even smaller. But that’s fine. After all, it has already shrunk to an unsustainable size.

In addition to concentrating more on corporate assignments, I’ll be developing two new business ventures.

The first is the resurrection of The Circle of Confusion. Such was the feedback from the pilot film that Peter Cox, Neil McShane and I produced that we have taken the plunge and established a limited company to produce and distribute further programmes. We’ve developed what we think is a great formula for a landscape series and our initial intention is to concentrate on that.

My second new business venture must stay under wraps for a while longer, I’m afraid. It is almost ready to be launched, but is still being tweaked. I had honestly hoped to reveal it to you today. What I will say is that it is a venture that will generate photography opportunities for me indirectly. It also draws on not only my own past professional experience, but on that of a partner who has extensive experience as an editor. Together we’re going to be offering something very new, very much of this time, and I’d like to think very much of unparallelled quality. I’d like to say that it is unique, but I can’t because I don’t know for certain that it is.

Give it two weeks and I’ll reveal all. Promise.

Both of these new business ventures fulfill an important criteria. They connect with me in a particular way. They tie in to my ‘Why’, which gives them both a good chance of sustaining me in a satisfying way. Importantly, they will, if successful, allow me to keep that other part of my professional life going: professional photography. Yes, I’ll be a part-time professional photographer, but a professional photographer nonetheless.

Your ‘Why’ Niche

Having read and listened to people like David DuChemin, Zack Arias, Chase Jarvis, Doug Menuez and others, it has become clear to me that the only way to thrive and survive in photography is to establish and express your own clear vision. That was what yesterday’s post was all about. By the way, if you haven’t heard of these photographers they are well worth looking up. Each is an accomplished photographer, but more importantly in the context of this series of posts, they are inspiring people whose advice has touched, and I’m sure helped, thousands.

Staying true to your vision eliminates distractions, allowing you to concentrate on what really excites you. This gives you a rapier-like drive, making it easier to select those choices and opportunities that are of most value to you. That simplifies things greatly. Instead of trying to be all things to all people, you go straight for that segment of the market that feels a strong draw to what you do and can offer you work that you will find rewarding.

Put another way, you find your niche as a professional photographer.

And you live happily ever after.

Maybe.

You see, there is a problem with this. What if your niche simply isn’t big enough to sustain you as a full-time professional photographer? It might not contain enough people with enough work. In fact, the deeper you drill down to your core values and vision, the narrower your niche becomes.

As with everything, though, there is a solution. Happily, in this instance it’s a straightforward one.

Stop relying solely on your niche to sustain you as a full-time professional photographer.

Allow the niche to sustain you as much as it can, and find other ways to earn the balance of the income that you need.

Part-timers: A Solution Rather Than A Problem

Part-timers. God, they’re an unmitigated pain, aren’t they?

Well, actually, no. They aren’t.

They are the opposite. While they may be a threat to the revenue streams of established, full-time photographers, their business model shows how you can thrive as a professional photographer today.

We need to copy them. Or rather, we need to reverse engineer what they do. Where they have an existing revenue that they are leveraging to get into photography, we should seek alternative income to secure the position we already have. Those other income streams can be from photography (for example, a landscape photographer who sells prints, runs workshops and produces e-books), but if you’ve read the first part of this series, you’ll also realize that they don’t have to be. If you accept that a professional photographer doesn’t necessarily have to be a full-time photographer, you lose none of your identity. In fact, you’ll have the opportunity to enhance it. By drawing income from an alternative source, you’ll have peace of mind that will allow you to concentrate unfettered on what it is that makes you tick as a professional photographer.

Two important things to note here.

Firstly, I am not saying you should find other income so that you can subsidize your photography and thus reduce the prices you charge for your professional photography. Always charge for your photography so that you get a sensible return on your time and overhead investment. If you don’t know what that means, book yourself on to the next workshop offered by Ann Monteith.

Secondly, what you choose as your alternative revenue generator is up to you. Might I make a suggestion, though? Try to focus on activities that you enjoy. Or to put it another way: try to do those things that fit equally well with your ‘Why’. I realize that’s easier said than done, but having come to grips with your professional photography it would be a shame to undermine your quality of life by merely seeking income from activities that don’t fulfill you.

The best example of what not to do that I can think of is becoming a general practitioner photographer: a bit of this, a bit of that, a bit of the other. That is a step backwards into the realms of trying to be all things to all people. I think that you end up loading your schedule with distractions that don’t excite you. That’s when photography becomes just ‘a day job’. Is that really why you chose a career in photography? No doubt, someone will tell you that a bad day in photography is better than a good day in an office. It’s a clever psychological mind game, but little else. A bad day is a bad day. A good day is a good day. You get to decide whether it’s good or bad. Besides, what if that good day in the office is as a chocolate taster? (Fill in your own particular vice, and you’ll quickly see how attractive other jobs can be).

The New Professional Era

Ahead lies a future in which more people than ever are going to try to earn money from photography. That’s going to mean that fewer photographers will be able to earn a living exclusively from a single photographic activity. Instead of being a master at a single trade, we will need to become masters of several. In doing so, we must connect with our passions, follow our hearts, be brave and be flexible. We must find our voice and never give up on expressing it.

Good luck.

My Own Plans

I’m going to break a promise. I said previously that in this third post of the series I would tell you what my own plans are in the face of a sharp dip in my wedding photography business. Thing is, I’ve come to realize that a) I’m on to a good thing with this series of posts (hits on the blog are going through the roof, so I’m going to apply the Hollywood model: one more sequel to squeeze the most out of the concept), and b) this post is already overlong.

So I hope you’ll forgive me if I drag you back here for an unscheduled fourth installment. Sadly, that won’t be this week, as I won’t have time to write the post until next week.

Nothing like a cliffhanger ending, eh?

In a series of posts this week, let’s look at what is going on in professional photography, feel the pain that many are experiencing, look at its root cause, identify the consequences, consider a solution and redefine what a professional photographer really is.

Throughout the series, I’ll draw mostly on examples from the wedding industry. It’s the one I know best, and have most conversations with other photographers about. I don’t think that will diminish the relevance of the posts for photographers in other areas of photography though.

The Facade

Most professional photographers hide behind a facade – one that suggests all is well. That’s only natural. Nobody likes to admit publicly that things are hard. Sadly, if you scratch only a teeny bit, the veneer proves to be very thin. Under the surface, many professional photographers are suffering, financially and/or creatively. Financial suffering is the easier of the two to address because you cannot deny it. Creative suffering is much harder to alleviate. Most professional photographers are in deep denial that it is even an issue for them. That makes things worse. If you don’t recognize you have a problem, you can’t take any steps to resolve it.

As far as I can tell, the two types of suffering combine to result in two types of reaction. Both of which are negative.

Firstly, professional photographers can start to develop an unhealthy attitude towards their business and clients. The symptoms can be quite alarming. Hostility or disrespect towards clients is a common one. As a for instance, I recently had a conversation with a photographer who described his current sales strategy as “nailing into” couples. That’s extreme, I’ll admit, but you don’t have to look especially hard to find wedding photographers who are jaded to a greater or lesser extent.

Not only do photographers risk becoming disenchanted with their business and clients, they risk becoming disenchanted with other photographers, who they will see as rivals rather than colleagues. Again, drawing upon the example of wedding photographers, this is plain to see in practice. One of the biggest complaints professional wedding photographers voice is the threat posed to them by a) part-time wedding photographers or b) cheap, part-time wedding photographers.

That’s incredibly destructive, mostly because it prevents positive action. It seems that many established wedding photographers would rather seek ways to limit the opportunities of part-timers rather than remold their businesses to deal with a drop in wedding revenues.

Accepting The New Reality

If professional photographers are to survive, they need not only to grasp the new reality, but to engage positively with it. I’m not talking about the superstars of photography here. Financially and creatively, they are as free as birds. Rather, I’m addressing the bulk of professional photographers who don’t earn big bucks and who are wrestling with a dip in revenue. I’m one of them. No point hiding that. My wedding business has taken a hit. Down a shade under 40%. Commercial assignments have picked up some of the slack, but as a whole turnover is still down. And I don’t see my wedding business recovering. The underlying fundamentals simply aren’t there, partly because of cheaper and/or part-time photographers.*

That is the new reality for me, and for many of my colleagues.

So what can be done? Turns out: quite a bit.

Step 1 is complete. Accept the reality.

Step 2: Embrace the reality. Positively and wholeheartedly.

This is where it starts to get interesting.

What Is ‘Professional’?

I don’t know any better way of embracing the reality of professional photography than by challenging what professional photography is. By challenging it, we’ll get a better understanding of what it is. That in turn will make it easier to identify solutions that will help us continue as professional photographers.

According to the English dictionary that I own (Longman Dictionary of Contemporary English – Second Edition, 1987), ‘professional’ is defined in five ways:

1: ‘of or working in one of the professions.’
2: ‘showing the qualities of training of a member of a profession.’
3: ‘doing for money what others do for enjoyment.’
4: ‘done by people who are paid.’
5: ‘intentional’. (This relates to a professional foul in football, for instance).

I think that’s a fairly good summary.

I also think it calls into question the stance of some professional photographers regarding part-time photographers, or more accurately part-time professional photographers. Being a professional photographer has nothing to do with how much revenue you derive from photography or how much time you spend doing it. You can be a full-time professional photographer, as far as I can tell, or a part-time one. But both are professional and neither can be said to produce better (or ‘more professional’) work than the other. If you deliver work of a standard that you receive payment for, you are providing professional photography.**

If you accept the above (and I welcome anyone to submit a comment as to why how much time you spend producing photographs you are paid for makes you professional or not), you can’t see part-time professional photographers as any different from full-time professionals. So any argument you have that they are harming your business goes out the window. They are merely other photographers charging money for the same type of work that you charge money for. Whether they’re charging sensible money instead of subsidizing their photography through their other income is another issue. What concerns me here is that they are equally professional.

Having challenged what a professional is, let’s challenge what a photographer is.

But let’s do that tomorrow.

* In part 3, I’ll give you an idea of what I’m doing to continue a healthy business despite this drop in wedding work.
**And lest it go unsaid: there are people who are full-time professional photographers who are producing barely competent work. And that’s just a polite way of saying incompetent.

Put another way, while demand is shrinking, supply is increasing. Smaller pie, more mouths.

You don’t need to be John Maynard Keynes to figure out what happens next.

Prices go into free fall.

On the face of it, that is great for brides. They are in a buyer’s market.

Is the mainstream wedding market on the verge of changing so much that I am no longer compatible with it? (c) Roger Overall 2011

That’s not so good for many established professional wedding photographers. With wedding photography reduced for the most part to a commodity (the purchase of which is determined by price), they face being overrun by a tidal wave of newcomers charging less*. Unless they can react to what is happening, they will go out of business.

I think the marketplace for wedding photography will be totally transformed over the next couple of years. When the dust settles, I think that most wedding photography will be cheap and unremarkable. Only a small number of high-end professional wedding photographers will be able to exist, catering to a relatively sophisticated clientele. They will have developed a unique style and product offering, though these alone will not guarantee their long-term survival.

From my own point of view, I have to face up to the very real possibility that I shall be forced to abandon the wedding market. It would sadden me to have to step away from wedding photography. Yet on the other hand, it wouldn’t be the end of my world. While I am very proud of my wedding work and will always seek to photograph fascinating marriages, if the market decides there is no place for me in it, I shall take my leave of it. My passion is photography. That is a transferable skill and the opportunities for a photographer are legion. Even as I type these words, different avenues are opening up for me. New possibilities are presenting themselves based on my interests.

So, maybe the changes in the wedding market aren’t all bad. Sure, they scare the hell out of me, but perhaps that’s what I need. I’m being pushed to investigate new markets and connect with new types of clients. I could have ambled along quite successfully for many years in the wedding market as it used to be, reaching a comfortable plateau both artistically and financially. I’m middle-aged (early middle-aged, but middle-aged nevertheless), so I’m entering that phase in my life where security is preferable to excitement. That’s when creativity really suffers. Chances are, if things had stayed the way they were, I wouldn’t have fulfilled my full potential as a photographer.

So, if the wedding market is going to show me the door, at least I can take comfort in the fact that I can choose which door to leave through. And likely on the other side I’ll find an equally fulfilling career.

*For many new photographers coming into the industry price is the only obvious way for them to distinguish themselves. It is the wrong choice, but in such an overwhelming business environment and with a lack of guidance, it is an understandable one.

An airport is a good place to realize just how big the market is for photography. It is global and huge, which means that your dream assignment is waiting for you somewhere. (c) Roger Overall 2011

Sitting in the gargantuan departure area at Schiphol Amsterdam Airport with time to kill, I reflected on my trip to Holland.

There were good bits.  And there were not so good bits. Thing is, you can learn from both in equal measure, so in a way it’s all good.

I was most excited about a flash-of-the-blindingly-obvious that struck me following a conversation I had on Sunday with a bride-to-be who is getting married in Lapland later this year. It is something that has given me a great deal of cheer. I’d like to share it here because I think it’s something that may help others.

What occurred to me is this:

At this very moment, someone somewhere has a photographic requirement for which I am the ideal photographer.

Let me expand on that.

There are billions of people in the world. Lots of them need photographs taken. Such is the size of the global demand for photography that it is almost a certainty that a section of that market needs photography for which I am the best provider.

On top of that, a share of those immediate photographic requirements for which I am the ideal photographer are fascinating and lucrative projects that I would give my eye tooth to be associated with – dream assignments, if you will.

Interestingly, some of these will be assignments that would never occur to me. Every day we come across new and exciting things that we’d never seen or heard of before. The same goes for assignments. We tend to think the market for photography is limited to what we have already experienced or read about. But of course it isn’t.

So, at any give time, there is a dream assignment out there for me.

By that token, someone somewhere always has work for me.

The same applies to you.

Isn’t that a comforting thought?

The trick is connecting with these people before they end up commissioning someone who isn’t me. I’m working on a strategy to make that happen.