Let’s Take Our Time.
Elspeth, circa 2015, showing her modeling prowess at age 8. A pro compliment on this photo early in my career gave me a much-needed boost of go power. ©Portraits of Connection by Charity Feb
Connection and My Portrait Photography Studio.
Elspeth. For me, this is an iconic photograph of my daughter and muse. Shot here in Camas when she was 8, it reminds me why we do things a little differently around here.
Let me share some background. My photography education unfolded in several chapters. One started in 2005, when I married my kids’ future Da and, while walking on the beach on our honeymoon, we decided to become wedding photographers together. At the time, I idolized a celebrity and fashion portrait photographer who gave a generous helping of charity portraits on the side. Fast forward five years later: Hubby and I staged a daylong shoot, modeled after this photographer’s work, at our local church. Then, a month later, hubby unexpectedly died.
Several years later, I was still reeling, but also hard at work to establish my wedding photography business and support my young kids. Then-idol photographer had a great loss of his own. He responded by creating an entire website around teaching other photographers everything he knew - but he promised to be present, to be involved. He promised to stay connected. Having lost my photography partner, as well as my husband, I saw it as divine serendipity, plunked down $1K I didn’t really have to plunk, and joined in.
His compliment of this portrait of Elspeth was worth every penny, in my heart. If memory serves, it was something like, “A little hot (bright), but a solid portrait.” Me feet left the ground, I tell you.
But less than a year later, we members on his site were looking around, then looking at each other, asking aloud, “Where’d he go?”
Connection (or the lack thereof) has been a central theme to my life. I grew up in a TV household. TV accompanied us in every room. I still start to panic, even now, when I can’t get away from a TV droning in the background. Little did I know how relatively lucky I was back then; how “smart”phones would multiply societal disconnect exponentially.
Maybe it was the same for many of my fellow aspiring photographers in that group. We had access to an impressive library of how-to videos, but like me - for whatever reason - maybe many of them just needed someone to say, “You got this. Keep going.”
Maybe we needed someone to connect with us.
It wasn’t until 2020, when LongCovid - an illness without a cure, and for which radical rest is often the only way to maintain a halfway enjoyable baseline of ability - forced me to slow down, that I really reclaimed my home and family space for peace and connection. LongCovid is (at best) annoying AF, but slow living is, frankly, lovely. I’m not going back.
So, I run my photography studio the same way. And I mask everywhere, so masking’s not a problem; no need to Zoom for safety.
Prospective client, I want to take the time to sit down in a comfy cafe with you, enjoy a treat, and connect. I want to get to know you well enough to plan for your time here. And I want to know you well enough to stop mid-shoot and say, “Something’s off. What do we need to change?” if the need arises. Heck, we might even end up friends. And why not? Isn’t that how human society is supposed to work?
Last I heard, said celeb photographer was advertising 5-minute portraits. Five whole minutes. I guess there must be a market for disconnection.
I’m betting on the market for connection.