Charles Gupton

Photography

Working your Fun

Because most people shoot pictures either as a hobby or just for the fun of capturing keepsakes of their lives, many assume that shooting pictures started out as, or continues to be, a pastime for me as well.

Although I absolutely love my work and the process of creating images, there is a distinct but indescribable line between enjoying a process in which you are paid to meet an objective and doing something simply for the enjoyment of doing it.

I used to get quite annoyed when someone would remark that I must not really love photography if I didn’t carry a camera with me everywhere and spend my free time (whatever free time is…) snapping pictures. I couldn’t adequately explain it because I couldn’t quite grasp how I could love creating images so much but not consider it my hobby.

But I gained greater clarity recently as I re-read Stuart Brown’s book, Play. Brown describes seven different play languages or personalities of which, one or two predominate in every person’s life. For me, the primary ways I play are through physical movement and exploration.

Understanding your play personality can help you understand why some activities should not be brought into your work life and vice versa.

As a “Kinesthete,” I have loved playing tennis since I picked up the game in my early teens. I richly enjoy bike riding, dancing, improv comedy, bowling, and ping pong. And, if I have any serious thinking to do I have to walk to process the information. Although competition can be a component of the activities I enjoy (the “Competitor” is one of the personalities Brown describes), it’s the pursuit of mastery and movement that allows my mind to rest and play, not winning.

Activities that lure my “Explorer” have been travel, writing, reading, playing music, cooking, conversation dinners, gardening, and sketching. In hindsight, all these endeavors have been for the pleasure of seeking deeper insights and ideas, invigorating my mind in a similar way that movement energizes my body.

Understanding how I play informs where I draw resources from to do more impactful work.

As a result of working in a creative field all of my career, I frequently get asked questions about how to turn one’s passion into a source of making a living. Just because you may love to cook doesn’t mean you have the skills – in addition to the ability to cook on a commercial scale – needed to run a restaurant.

If your play personality is the “Artist,” producing photographs to please a client’s requirements may destroy the very reason you pursued your love of art in the first place. It doesn’t have to. But understanding your motives and desires will help you achieve satisfaction rather than frustration with your heart’s desire. Also, to have a client hire — and pay you — for your services is a different animal than accumulating ‘likes’ and comments from friends on social media.

I encourage others – as I attempt to do myself – to pursue their heart’s desires in the process of doing the work they love, But, I’ve watched far too many folks that I care deeply for distrust their own heart, not realizing why their heart found delight in their love to begin with.

In what kind of activities of play do you find your heart and energy renewed?

Charles

Honoring the Process of Process

Have you ever been severely constipated, your bowels aching to relieve themselves of the blockage? All you want to do is move along with your day but your intestines won’t cooperate.

Writing is often like that for me.

I’ve just spent the last two hours straining to push words out of my brain into a book project that I’m working on.  And much of what has come out appears to my eye to be crap. But I continue to strain. Why?

I am excruciatingly, slowly teaching myself to honor the process of the process.

Calling myself a writer doesn’t make me a writer. I’m only a writer when I’m writing, not talking about writing. Doing the writing makes me a writer.

I have been a professional photographer for 35 years. But several years ago, in one of the deepest dips of the recession, I realized that I’d not shot one picture in a nearly six-month period. What I had done during that time period was go to networking events, business classes, sales presentation appointments, and anywhere else I could to shake up an opportunity for paid work. But I had not, during that time, picked up a camera.

My attitude sucked and my energy was flagging.

If we are what we do, then I was an unpaid networker. But I was NOT a photographer. I had not honored the process of feeding my heart or keeping my skills sharpened.

I took a week off from all appointments and shot photos. I can’t say they were great images. My vision was rusty and shallow. But the process fed my heart and energized my life.

I realized that I am not an artist and communicator because it’s a glamorous or lucrative way to make a living. I am passionate about telling stories. It is the core of who I am. But to truly be something, I have to do it. It is action that creates results, not talk.

It is the same with writing. It is a process. What I’ve discovered is that the most critical part of developing a process is to honor the process.

What I want, when I sit down to write, is for the words to flow out of me like a tap. If you’ve ever written, you know that’s not how it goes. But I’ve also learned that honoring the process of writing does cause the words to flow. A lot of the process of writing is fighting back the ‘voice’ of doubt and recrimination that whispers ‘Who would ever want to read anything you have to write?’

My job at that moment isn’t to find an answer to justify my time in front of the keyboard. My job at that moment is to write. By trusting the process itself, I eventually fight back the ‘voice’ and get the words out.

I’ve talked with a lot of people who want to write/paint/photograph, etc., but stall when the process becomes painful. Although there are times when creativity does abound, I don’t think it ever becomes entirely pain free.

That’s when the discipline of honoring the process becomes critical to becoming what your heart screams out to be.

How do you respond to the resistance that inevitably inhibits your personal vision from seeing the light?

 

Charles

 

From Perfect to Good

One of the greatest realizations that I’ve come to – and am still coming to – is that the standard for what is acceptable quality in the communications world has radically changed. Over the last decade, my bent towards perfectionism has taken numerous hits.

The transition from print to web dominance in communications has greatly reduced the need for high resolution images. Couple that with the trend towards creating photos on smart phones and tablets, and many photographers are left feeling that their extensive training and creative abilities are now far undervalued.

While I would never tell artists to stop caring about their creations or throw the quality of their craftsmanship aside, I have come to realize that the quantity of time and attention to detail given needs to be appropriate to the final usage of the images that we produce.

Charles

Negotiation Starts With Value

The most important element in any negotiation process is defining the value of what is being exchanged. Without a clear understanding of what you have to offer and its value to the person you’re communicating with, the negotiation process will quickly become frustrating.

The challenge for many commercial artists/photographers is that they are artists first while the “commercial” aspect unfortunately takes the back seat. The mindset of many artists is that it’s acceptable to be under compensated for their work, hence the description “starving artist.” And what you do is an extension of what you believe.

If you are struggling with the negotiation process, take a look at these two aspects— the value of what you offer and your relationship with money — and think about where you stand. In her book, “Overcoming Underearning,” Barbara Stanny writes: “Psychology is to money what an engine is to a car. Whenever you’re stalled, that’s the first place to look.”

Although “looking under the hood” may be disorienting and the last thing you want to do with your time, negotiation is simply a process of exchanging beliefs about value.

You can’t transfer a belief you don’t have.

Charles

Launch and Learn

The last year or so has been a particularly exciting and, at the same time, particularly scary time.

As I look back, the last ten years or so – since 9/11 – have been an ever-changing mix of scary and exciting for us. When the communications world seemed to stop spinning with assignments, Linda and I took an informal sabbatical from actively chasing communications projects while we were pursuing some other directions for a time, including starting a sustainable farming operation and retreat center.

As we returned to the communications front lines, we were aware that the technology environment had made sweeping changes and that I, especially, would have to climb a steep learning cliff to catch up. There have been more slips and falls than I can count, but I believe I’ve caught up and have been running along quite proficiently for a while now. Until this past year.

After dipping my toes in the waters of multimedia for a couple of years, I decided to take a leap into the deep current and see if I could swim. In my experience, and from numerous conversations with peers, I’d realized that shooting a project in motion is exponentially more challenging than to do so in stills.

With age, I’ve come to realize that I can’t possibly learn all I want to about everything I want to. If I can’t learn it all, I certainly can’t do it all. So I turned over the audio production and the post-editing responsibilities to my assistant while Linda took over the producer’s role, leaving me to concentrate on filming, directing, and client engagement.

When my assistant bailed two days before a critical project, my choked-backed fears of relying on other people shot to the surface and I realized that I couldn’t reliably deliver unless I could handle every aspect of my productions as insurance against being caught unprepared on location. Although panic-induced adrenaline became my elixir for the week, it was the jolt I needed to get me up to speed in short order.

The excitement came when I realized that I had the foundational skills to start really building a new career direction. I also knew enough to make better hiring decisions about who I need and what skills are necessary when I call in support crew on a particular project.

My greatest “ah-ha” has been to re-discover that launching new projects with the focus on deep-learning of new skills is the best way to grow both knowledge and passion. Every project I initiate has at least one or two high bars that I hope to clear with perfect form and agile grace. And with every project, I fall short of my perfection.

My human propensity is to build my confidence first by gathering knowledge before venturing forth on any endeavor. But what I’ve learned, and will continue to learn, is that the most important thing I will always do is launch, fail, learn, repeat. The best knowledge comes in the doing.

Charles