Earlier this week I met up with my friend Melissa and her bright-eyed daughter Kennedy. We walked the university campus and I took some shots of that delicious little girl, hoping to capture that magical 6-month mark and all those awesome faces she makes, before all of it is just a distant memory. ‘She didn’t nap much today’, her mother warned me, and it was swelteringly hot outside – but that child was a trooper, content to just play on blankets and in the grass, peppering us with the occasional gummy smile and baby chatter.
On the walk back to our cars Melissa and I talked about photography. She encouraged me to start my own business. I shrugged off her praises and suggestion, my usual M.O. I know real photographers. They are so well versed and prepared for any shooting situation, and they have the right equipment and the training. Me, I just kinda muddle through it all. But then I got home, still thinking about our talk. I always blow off anyone when they bring that up. I direct them to my very pointed blog post on the subject. But why? In reality, it’s something I would adore doing.
Why am I so scared?
I thought about it a lot, A LOT that night. Starting a small business, especially a photography-based one, is scary indeed. The market is beyond saturated. The economy sucks. The equipment is expensive. But I can work through some of this. I think that, deep down if I am honest, I’m most afraid of embarrassing myself. Of not living up to anyone’s standards, of being laughed at. So maybe at the heart of it, I don’t because I am a coward.
Today I put on my big girl pants, and signed up for a small business course. I have no idea what I’m doing and will certainly take it very slow, but it’s a start.
Thank you Melissa, for encouraging me. Thank you for your talk. And most of all, thank you for letting me take pictures of that sweet little lady of yours.
So without further ado, let me present to you: Miss Kennedy, at the wise old age of 6 months.