Shutters, Struggles, and Small Wins: 2024 in Photography

As the year winds down, I find myself reflecting on the whirlwind of experiences, challenges, and growth that shaped my work as a photographer in 2024. If there’s one thing I’ve learned this year, it’s that photography isn’t about arriving at mastery—it’s about constantly learning, experimenting, and rediscovering what drew you to the art in the first place. And yes, sometimes, it’s about shooting a thousand frames just to find that one image that makes you smile.

This year, I became more attuned to what I want to concentrate on. There’s a certain clarity that comes from understanding your strongest and weakest work. For me, it’s about sifting through the endless series of shots—because, let’s face it, I have a knack for overdoing things—and knowing which ones truly resonate. That sense of discernment has made me sharper technically, but it’s also a reminder: just because you’ve got a master’s degree doesn’t mean you’re the master. Photography is humbling like that. It keeps you on your toes, always asking for more.

One of the technical skills I’m proud to have sharpened is my comfort with Lightroom. Photoshop and I have always been on distant terms, but Lightroom? That’s my jam. It feels less like editing and more like sculpting light, which is how I prefer to see my post-production work. But while technical growth is essential, this year also reminded me to return to what made me fall in love with photography in the first place: documenting the world around me. Picking up my camera for unscheduled, unpressured moments brought me back to my roots, something I hadn’t done with such freedom since the pandemic.

This reawakening was also sparked by revisiting street photography and landscapes—genres I’d drifted away from in favor of more commercial and fashion projects. And while I enjoy the precision and creativity those fields demand, there’s an undeniable joy in capturing life as it unfolds, unscripted and authentic. Oddly enough, the shoots I didn’t plan with financial outcomes in mind have ended up being some of the most impactful, both creatively and professionally. It’s funny how that works. The work you do for love often becomes the work that people love most.

Speaking of evolution, the photography industry has certainly changed. Business seemed simpler pre-pandemic, and even during those isolated Covid days, there was a surprising amount of work. But now? Competition is fierce, with incredible talent emerging from every corner. And here’s what I’ve learned: fighting to stand out is a losing battle. Staying in your lane, as cliché as it sounds, is where the magic happens. The more I focused on my own strengths and passions, the more I found my tribe—clients and collaborators who value the kind of work I do best.

One thing I need to figure out heading into 2025 is social media. If there’s a medal for procrastinating on posting, I’d win gold. I’ve got three Instagram accounts (of course, because why not overcomplicate things), each with stories to tell and images to share. But keeping up with it all? It’s draining. I know the exposure is invaluable—it’s where the world sees your work—but chasing numbers feels like staring at a spreadsheet all day. Not exactly inspiring. So, next year, I plan to find a rhythm that works for me. Sharing thoughtfully without letting the algorithm dictate my creativity.

And then there’s AI. Let me be honest: I love it, as long as it doesn’t replace me. It’s a running joke, but there’s some truth in the unease. I’m curious about how it can enhance photography without stripping away the soul of the craft. Exploring its potential (and limits) is definitely on my 2025 to-do list.

Looking ahead, my focus is simple: do work I love, stay in my lane, and keep growing. Photography is as much about joy as it is about grit. There will be days when you feel drained, creatively exhausted, or unsure. But those moments are just as important as the ones where everything clicks. They remind you to know your boundaries, honor your passions, and pick yourself up when the light feels dim.

Here’s to 2025: more light, more stories, more learning, and hopefully fewer unposted Instagram photos and memory cards left at home.