Some days it feels like I can't get anything right. The light is harsh, backgrounds are distracting, somebody decides to stand right where I want to take a shot. And this goes on all day long. By the end of the day I'm ready to sell my camera and find another way to amuse myself.
Other days I think I've captured something unique only to come home completely underwhelmed by what actually comes out the camera. The shots that were almost right. The soft image I wanted tack sharp. The autofocus choosing the small Chihuahua instead of the bike racer in the frame (that's not really a mistake, if I'm honest).
This isn't unique to creative endeavors - we all have days where we don't think we're good enough. But in my professional life, my failures are shared with a small team. In my creative life, my failures are shared with a community I've come to love and hope to contribute to in ways that bring joy and happiness. Failure in this arena cuts a little sharper.
I don't write this as an attempt to fish for compliments. It makes me infinitely happy to see people use my photos as their personal social avatars and share the photos with their friends. I am also proud of the progress I have made given that I've taken exactly 0 hours of formal photographic training and my only real driving force is my own ambition. Still, progress is slow and some days it feels like I'm regressing, not improving.
Part of my commitment to this photography endeavor is to share my work. As a classic introvert, my default setting is to keep everything to myself. But that isn't what art is about, and though it goes against every instinct I have, I am committed to sharing my work. Good days and bad days, I will continue to share what I think is worthy. Or at the very least, what I think competitors might want to see of themselves, which is what I see - brave, committed athletes who deserve to have the light shine on them, if only from one camera in the crowd.