I was born at the tail end of Gen. X and always wished I was born a decade earlier so that I could appreciate the generation more. Hey, a little romanticising never hurt no-one. Luckily for me, I had older cousins and friends that made me feel at home. At times it felt that the overlapping of Gen. x and millennials was perfect. I had the time to embrace analog and appreciate the steps toward the digital future, not realising how the digital world would almost wipe out analog. This is noticeable across the board but more evident for me in the photography realm. 

I fell in love with photography back in 1998, it was an elective course that became my main focus while attending the Edna Manley College. I got my commercial background from being the apprentice of Franz Marzouca, who mainly photographed food, liquor and people on location. The rest was from a brotherly bond with mentor William Richards  who photographed the majority of the Jamaican dancehall and reggae artiste. He pushed me to think on my toes; whenever there was an obstacle, I had to figure it out. 

So for several years I worked on my craft (I still do) absorbing the teachings, studying the greats. Digital photography was still emerging when I started my career. I learned by doing analog which meant limited frames to get the shot; digital photography has changed this. I still approach every shoot with the idea of limited frames. I am deliberate in capturing images. I wanted to be separate from the average person in the field. It was important to me to find my voice as an artist and establish myself with a distinct style, but also multifaceted in my ability to deliver across genres using analog and digital. The world of art and commercial photography has always been competitive, something I enjoyed actually because at the end of the day I was still able to enjoy and appreciate the work of my peers. Then came the upswing of social media, which initially I welcomed as a space to showcase, exchange and discover. This remains, but what also emerged was the visceral reminder of the impact and influence of nepotism and popularity. 

Your skills could bring you to the table but it didn’t mean you’ll be fed. I see many photographers emerging, some are a flash in the pan, some more enduring. I observed the absence of quality in their work, the lack of depth, limited technical skills, an over reliance on editing and post-production, among others. They gain notoriety, but their work doesn’t stand the test of time. They are recognised, not for the quality of their work, but based on popularity. But for many of us artists, we understand this has always been the way, social media has only amplified this like so many other things. 

Buzz words circulate in your atmosphere but nothing seems to stick as your reality gives you the harsh truth. Being ‘great’ doesn’t mean anything, especially when the word ‘greatest’ doesn’t live up to its hype. Being great can be demand, being busy, being consumed with an image, having multiple projects coinciding with each other, overwhelming you with anxiety as you need to make the deadline. For some it might be making a billion dollars idea investment and creating new art that looks and feels soul less just to make you believe your life can be better by pressing a button. For me, being great means an enduring process, conceptualising, thinking, planning, studying, researching, doing, revisiting (a lot). The elbow grease that goes into creating an image, not just pointing, shooting and fixing after the fact. (A lot of times) the work is in taking the image; fixing or finishing should enhance, not define the photograph. 

Never being truly satisfied is a true artistic trait. A piece could be almost complete but you can see the minute details that could make it so much better in your eye. And that’s all that matters, we are creators of the image and when we get swept up in being popular for social media clout or doing the minimum for financial gains, it’s no wonder why some enter this state of imposter syndrome. I’m a guilty candidate but how do you fight that feeling? That moment of despair, do you cave in and just bite the bullet or think on your toes and figure out the solution. I always try to remember to pivot and move, each time that you do, always look for the openings. For me, that could be shifting my style or filling a void that has been overlooked by most. 

Photo courtesy of Natasha Cunningham