Transformative Advice for Photographers Who Want It
The notes below may not be for everyone, but they are necessary for some.
(All of the photographs that accompany this article were made at “The Valley of Goblins” State Park, Hanksville, Utah. They were made with a variety of cameras. All images are by the author.)
I’ve always believed photography to be more than technical craft. I think of it as a profound dialogue with the world around me, both real and metaphorical.
After nearly six decades behind all sorts of lenses, I know that being a photographer is less about equipment and more about perception, curiosity, and the courage to embrace the way I see.
But this knowledge took time to percolate inside my thick skull. I went through a bout of GAS (Gear Acquisition Syndrome) and spent a fair amount of my life in the commercial realm of transactional art.
And no worries about that. I have enjoyed every aspect of my photographic journey. I loved those lenses I never used, and I still enjoy shooting for advertising and brands. I think it is the constant push of creativity against the restraints of the job that gets me going.
Along the way, I have put considerable thought into how and why I make images, and some of these personal observations may be of use to you.
So here they are, in no particular order.
Show Up, Even When It’s Imperfect
Your most effective photographs will rarely emerge from perfect conditions. They’ll be made in messy moments, when light is challenging, when your hands are shaking, when the ever-present ghost of doubt creeps in. Show up anyway. Press the shutter. Perfection is the enemy of authenticity.
Imperfection isn’t a flaw, my friend, it’s a window. A glimpse into your humanity. Those slightly blurred edges, unexpected shadows, the grain that speaks to a struggle—these are the hashtags of a genuine creative spirit. Don’t wait for ideal circumstances. Your inner photographer is waiting to tell stories right now, in this fleeting moment.
Embrace Failure as a Learning Opportunity
Every missed shot, every technically flawed image, every composition that doesn’t quite work is a lesson waiting to be understood. I stopped looking at failure as the opposite of success, and it changed everything. I grew faster, my work matured, and I felt more in tune with it than ever before.
Screwing up is a critical part of your creative journey.
When an image doesn’t meet your expectations, resist the urge to delete it immediately.
Study it.
What didn’t work?
Was the light wrong?
Did you miss a crucial moment?
Each “failure” is a teacher, feeding you insights about your craft and your vision.
Creativity Thrives in Playful Moments
Seriousness can, and will, strangle creativity at some point. I’ve seen it happen far too often.
Some of your most engaging images will come when you stop trying so damn hard and start playing.
Experiment.
Turn your camera sideways.
Shoot from impossible angles.
Ignore the rules you’ve internalized.
Forget the “Rule of Thirds”, the best aperture, the fibonobonaccilinguine thing. Far too often, these rules are there to keep you from discovering excellence.
Play means freedom. It means releasing yourself from the expectations of what a “good” photograph should look like.
Some of the most groundbreaking photographers in history were those who approached their work with childlike wonder and irreverence.
Rest is Not a Reward — It’s a Necessity
Your creativity is not an infinite resource. It requires nurturing, silence, and reflection. And rest is not the only thing you earn after working hard.
Taking time to reconnect, reflect, and recharge is the fertile soil in which your creative vision grows.
Step away from your camera periodically. Look at the world without trying to capture it. Let your mind wander.
Listen to music. (Oh, BTW, here’s something amazing for you.)
Profound photographic insights may come when you’re simply being present.
Create the Work You Want to Be Known For
If you dream of shooting intimate portraits, don’t fill your portfolio with landscapes. If environmental photography calls to you, don’t compromise with commercial headshots. Your portfolio should be a pure, and completely unapologetic, reflection of the work that sets your soul on fire.
You don’t have to justify it to anyone. It is YOUR work, and it should reflect the vision you are compelled to present.
If you are a commercial shooter, clients and opportunities will be drawn to the authenticity of your vision. By staying true to your artistic core, you attract the kinds of projects that will truly fulfill you.
Collaboration Over Isolation
Photography may occasionally feel like a solitary art, but trust me, it’s profoundly relational. Collaborate with other artists. Share your work. Listen to good critique, and learn to be a good critic as well.
Join communities that challenge and inspire you.
Your perspective grows through dialogue — with other photographers, with subject matter, with the landscapes and people you photograph.
None of us is an island. And if we are, we need to build a bridge.
Or two.
Photography is a Manifested Curiosity
For me, photography has always been a way of exploring my place in the world. It’s how I understand people, relationships, environments, and history.
Your camera should not be merely a tool for making images, it should also be a tool for discovering the answers to a myriad of questions. In life, there should always be questions to answer.
What questions are you seeking to answer through your images?
Are you trying to understand the human connection?
Capture the ephemeral beauty of a moment?
Document social change?
Let your photography be a form of personal and collective investigation.
When you are making photos, you’re engaging in a continuous, lifelong conversation with the world around you. One that is being preserved a fraction of a second at a time.
Your images are both a record and a revelation—fragments of understanding, captured in composition, light, and shadow.
At least, that’s the way I see it.
I have been asked why I make photographs, and the only answer I can give is “because I have to”. I cannot explain it any other way.
What am I going to do with all of the images I make?
I have no idea at this point in my life, but I am doing a lot of thinking about it.
Sounds like a future article along the journey of life.
Hi, I’m Don Giannatti, a photographer and mentor for up-and-coming photographers. You can find me on my website, Don Giannatti, and at my Substack site, where I also publish for creative people.
