06/02/2026
My favorite people to photograph are the ones who hate it.
Not because I enjoy talking someone off the ledge every five minutes while they bitch and moan through the whole session. It's because, in most cases, the person fighting the camera hardest has the most to actually give their audience.
Here's what a decade working with these folks have taught me.
Performance tends to fill the space where proof should be.
The bigger the show someone puts on for the lens, the more it's often covering for the fact that they're not sure the substance will do the heavy lifting on it's own.
Outwardly, it looks like confidence. A lot of the time it's compensation.
I've seen it happen. Someone shows up "on," hits every angle, gives me the big energy, and we walk away with a folder full of images that look great...
..and prove nothing.
The session felt like a dog and pony show because that's exactly what it was.
Then there's the other type.
The expert who was uncomfortable for the entire session, debated how crappy they looked in the picutres between every frame.
But then, mid-sentence, mid-thought, completely unguarded, offered me the magic moments that did more work than the performer's entire session. Why?
Because those photos were real. And real is the only thing that proves anything, especially in this age of artificial sludge shoveled in our feeds on a second-by-second basis.
So if you're someone who dislikes being photographed, sit with this for a second.
Your discomfort might be the most credible thing about you.
It usually means you've spent your career being the real thing instead of performing it. The job was never to turn you into a circus act in front of the camera. It's to catch the proof that's already there.
Who else flinches at the camera and secretly suspects that's not a flaw?