Redlights and Redeyes

I feel like a Wallenda.

Constantly on a thin wire, tip-toeing along.  Trying to make images that my newspaper can run and ones I like.  Nik Walleda had another trick last night – balancing atop 70 ft. swaypoles in the middle of St. Armand’s Circle – at one point switching poles while swaying back and forth in that deep blue sky and feathered clouds I’ve come to abuse so much down here in Florida.

While in essence there is an easy correlation to make between what I’m going through right now in my mind about my career, it would be kind of cliche to write about it.  But I’m all about cliche, so here goes.

So I’m standing atop this pole and it is swaying back and forth…kidding.

My career as a staff newspaper photojournalist is nearing its end.  I have two weeks left here at the Sarasota Herald-Tribune.  Starting today.  While the comfort and security of a paycheck is what I’ve always held as such – comfortable and secure – I’ve come to a point in my life that I’m ready to actually jump off that pole and see what happens.  The little safety cable might catch me, or I might hit the Earth below with a thud.  I hope neither happens to be honest.  I’d rather switch poles.

New challenges (starting a freelance business).  New freedom (shooting what I want).  New stresses (failing to feed my daughters).

I’ll miss the newspaper.  It has been the place that I’ve been able to learn, develop my vision, and learn how to be a photojournalist.  Not just a photographer.  It taught me how to love my community and appreciate it and all its quirks.  I’ve been successful and made pictures I’ve liked from situations I was forced to go and find something runnable.  ”Making chicken salad out of chicken shit” as they say.  They being me.  I know practically every brightly painted wall in town.  I know where to get a feature at 6:00pm.  I know how to turn my less-than-mediocre files from the two old-school eroded Nikon cameras I’ve slung around my neck for the past six years into usable, breathable files.  I’ll gladly hand those relics over and begin using a new pair of mistresses – the lovely Canon 5D Mark II and Mark IV.  Can’t wait for that.  I’m not a gearhead at all, but man they are beautiful…

…I digress.  Sorry.

What I’ll miss most is events like this.  Random stuff happening randomly in my community.  I’ll have to search them out and shoot rather than be given a white piece of paper with a time and place to be at.  I want to be that dude that shows up and shoots what I want, not get names and just worry about pictures I make.  Finding a picture that is no longer marketable just for a 8-inch story, but something that is marketable to a much a larger audience.  Something I may need you to sign a release for.  I’m excited about the prospect of returning to the unknown and making work that I choose to make.  Stories I choose to cover at rates I choose to say yes to.  Taking control of my life, my vision, and my future.  Finding new sources of income.  Editorial, weddings, commercial, sports, advertising.  A nice stew of photography I can’t wait to taste.

I know photojournalism isn’t the money-making venture it once was.  Wait, I don’t think it ever was.  Strike that.  Point being, most of do this job because we love it.  It’s our passion.  We all share a deep addiction to finding layers, hidden pockets of light, random surreal moments missed by the masses, overexposures, weird compositions, saturated color, silhouettes, details, life, love, happiness.  All of this tucked inside a very neatly composed rectangle (or square – sorry Allison).

With that, I’m taking my bow and moving on.  I’ll let you know where I land.

This entry was posted on Saturday, August 21st, 2010 at 6:29 am and is filed under photojournalism industry, photos. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.