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The home of enthusiastic supporters of Fine Art Photography. We respect its history, admire its present form, and look forward to its future.

What I’ve Learned After 60 Years of Living Off Creativity

5 min readMay 3, 2025

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Having the belief you can get down this road without going over the edge is important for everyone who attempts the Burr Trail Switchbacks. They are located in the Waterpocket Fold area of Capitol Reef, NP. So much fun and incredible beauty. All photographs by the author.

Belief Is Behind Everything

After six decades of making things — music, photographs, ads, books, logos, noise, meals, businesses, mistakes — one truth has outlasted all the come-and-go fads and trending philosophies:

You have to believe you’re the right creative for the job.

Not in a cocky, chest-thumping way. Not fake-it-till-you-make-it bluster.

I’m talking about a quiet, grounded conviction. A deep-in-the-bones knowing. You might not have the biggest Instagram following or the slickest portfolio yet — but if you don’t believe you belong at the table, no one will pull out a chair for you.

It isn’t ego, folks, it’s survival. Simply staying in the game.

Getting Started Is the Hardest Part

The hardest step in a creative career isn’t building a website or sending that pitch email.

It’s starting. Really starting.

Not the dabbling, not the “I’ll get to it when…” but the scary “WTF am I doing” leap.

From comfortable and safe to the mysterious unknown.
From employed with a paycheck to freelance and a dream.
From wishing to actually doing.

When I was younger, (was I ever younger?), I thought the hardest part would be getting good.

Whether it was hours of rudiments on the snare, or figuring out how long to develop Panatomic X in a 15:1 dilution of Microdol, there were constant mistakes, missed marks, and disappointing results.

But I persevered. What else could I do?

Later, I thought the hard part was getting paid. And while that is still hard, it is more manageable due to years of tough experience.

But the really hard part?
It was believing I could make a life from my ideas.
That someone, somewhere, needed exactly what I could do.
That I was right for the job, the assignment, the opportunity.

If you don't believe that, your brain will work tirelessly to prove you're correct. I mean, tirelessly, with conviction and perseverance. Unfortunately, negativity is doubly strong when pointed inward.

You end up focusing on the competition, the failures, the “starving artist” clichés. You’ll find articles about industries collapsing and freelancers struggling. You’ll remember every bad critique and every ignored email.

Your brain, bless its little heart, just wants you to be safe and happy.

So it works overtime to build a compelling case for staying small, not trying, pushing away opportunities.

“Nobody can make it in this business.”
“There’s no work out there”.
“They’ll just use AI”.
“My sister has a friend who’s boyfriends brother’s uncle knew a woman who tried to do this and she failed… so why try”.

A symphonic band piece I wrote in 1971.

But You Can Train Your Brain to See Differently

The good news? You can feed it new beliefs. You can say:

“I believe I can do this.”

“I believe I bring something unique to the table.”

“I believe there are clients who need exactly what I do.”

Say it often enough — and back it with action — and your brain will start proving that right. Your brain wants you to succeed in what you focus on.

You’ll notice opportunities.
You’ll see your wins.
You’ll start acting like a pro, long before anyone gives you permission.

And that’s what we call the shift.

The moment when the real work begins.

You Can Act Your Way Into Confidence

You want to feel like a creative professional? Start acting like one.

Return the calls.
Send the emails.
Show your work, even if your hands are shaking.
Create the leave-behind.
Build the website — even if it’s version 1.0 and kinda clunky.

Every time you act like the creative you want to be, you reinforce the belief that you are becoming that person.

You don’t need anyone’s permission to start.

Perfection is procrastination in a tuxedo.

Clients Don’t Want the Most Talented Creative — They Want the Right One

Look, there’s always going to be someone more technically gifted, more creative, more charismatic, more popular, more good-looking, more… well just more. Their portfolios rock.

But clients don’t hire portfolios.
They hire people.
People they trust.
People who can solve their problems.
People who believe in their own work enough to show up. Ready to go.

That singular belief — “I am the right creative for this project” — radiates confidence, professionalism, and power.

It shows up in your emails, your posture, your presentations. It’s magnetic.

Let me prepare you for the next, frightening question:

“What if they say no?”

They will. Plenty of times. Expect it. Toughen up, cupcake.

But every no puts you closer to the yes that matters.

The only way to fail is to hold it all back.

Creativity Is a Practice in Courage

I’ve seen so many talented creatives stall out, crash, burn, and end up greeting new guests at Walmart. The portfolios were great, they had a bit of charm, and they wanted desperately to do the work.

They really wanted to.

But wanting is not enough. Wanting anything is not enough. There has to be some sort of action to achieve it, and that action is grounded in the self-belief that it can be done.

They lacked that belief. They waited for the world to validate them before they took the leap.

That’s not how it works. You leap first. Then you build the wings.

So here’s my advice after 60 years in the creative endeavor.

Start before you’re ready.
Believe before you feel worthy.
Share your work before it’s perfect.
And act like the right creative — until you realize you always were.

If this hit home, share it.

Or better yet, open that portfolio, send that pitch, make that call. Someone out there needs what only you can do.

You simply have to believe it first.

When I was 15 years old, my mom bought me a set of drums from a pawn shop in downtown Phoenix. Silver metalflake, and they came with a cymbal. By standards, they were awful, but to me they meant the world. I began playing for hours everyday. No teacher, just records to play along with. How my mom put up with that racket is still an unknown. Perhaps she had earmuffs somewhere. From those days on, I have lived off of creative endeavors. Playing drums, composing, photography, art, design, teaching, and writing. I create something every day. I will until my expiration date. I believe it is my right to make art.
It is yours as well.

This photo of me is by Carol Rioux: light-painted in Calgary, AB.

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.

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Full Frame
Full Frame

Published in Full Frame

The home of enthusiastic supporters of Fine Art Photography. We respect its history, admire its present form, and look forward to its future.

Don Giannatti
Don Giannatti

Written by Don Giannatti

Designer. Photographer. Author. Entrepreneur: Loving life at 100MPH. I love designing, making photographs and writing.