Honesty. Honestly Honest.

May 25, 2012

I haven’t really posted in a while. I know I posted that quick snap from Vancouver a while back. And I posted about mini-sessions, but I haven’t give you something to think about. And so here I am, trying to be honest with you. Trying to get beyond the idea that a photographer should only post photos – and not words – on a blog. Trying to get beyond the idea that everything should be happy and upbeat, because not everything in life is that way. Because I want you to know (because I want to believe) that I am more than just the pictures I take. I want you to know me. And I want to know you. That is the point of my photography.

And so here’s the honest truth. I haven’t been blogging because I’ve been too busy questioning. I’ve gotten to the point where the questioning borders on over-analyzing. Where I get to the point where I’ve nit-picked ever pixel of every photo I’ve taken in the past few months and I am disappointed in every. single. one. I’m asking myself: does this photo represent my brand? what is my brand? why do I have to define myself? can I be more than just a portrait photographer? a wedding photographer? can my passion for people and my passion for travel coexist? can all the parts of my heart and soul be together on the internet? is my work good enough to be out here? And I don’t have answers for any of these questions. And so I wait. For the answers to come. For the questions to stop. I just keep waiting. But it’s not getting me anywhere.

And that, big bad world, is what it has boiled down to. When I sit down for some self reflection, when I’m deep into meditation and I pull those questions from the depths of my soul, when I am honestly honest with myself, the root of it all is fear. Since putting myself out there as a photographer, no longer as a something-else-who-does-photography-on-the-side but as a PHOTOGRAPHER who does something else on the side (because, while we’re being honest, “photographer” does not pay off my student loans right now), it’s scary. And I’m afraid. I’m afraid of failing. I’m scared that the big bad world is mocking me. Laughing behind my back. I’m scared because when I look at my photos, I ask myself what does this make me feel? And when I’m not sure IF it makes me feel, I worry. Because the whole point of art is to feel, right? I want to pull at your heartstrings, yank those emotions right out of you. I want to feel. I want you to feel. But somewhere along the way, I forgot that it’s not all about feeling. It’s also about the story. The moments. The memories. So what if they’re not perfect? I’m not perfect. And I’d like to say, that you’re not perfect either. So, while I’m still struggling with my perfectionism, with my recovering Type-A personality, with my fears, I’m going to put it all out there. Including the pictures that might not be “good enough”. No more censure. No more second guessing. You’re going to get all of me. The photography, the randomness, the travel montages. Because that’s who I am. Honestly.


((A couple weeks ago, I donated a few hours of my time to help with the St. Louise School Sleepover. Part of that including taking pictures of their smiling faces for picture frames they made. So honestly tell me that these beautiful smiling faces aren’t good enough for the internet. I dare you.))

St Louise Bellevue Annual Auction Sleepover Headshots


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photo of the author, she has dark wavy hair, brown glasses, and red lipstick on. She is wearing a grey shirt.


Servus! I’m Emily and you’ve found my little corner of the internet, where I write about travel, intentionally living with less stuff, and living as a German-American family in Munich, Germany.  Want to know more?