Career Block

I feel like I have hit a bit of a wall as far as getting my "business" going. There never seems to be too much time between ideas. First, I got my website up, then I marketed for portraits, complete with postcards and mailings. Kid photos, dog photos, weddings and engagements. Then, I contacted newspapers and publications in search of freelance. I looked into and found some teaching gigs at an adult education course, then I went from there to art centers. I got some work through them, too. Then came the births, which led to trying get the word about that service. Emailing mid-wives led to calling birth centers led to looking for local baby shops which lead to seeking out area bloggers and their networks. Non-profits, schools, one-on-one photography lessons.

I'm sure something new will come to me soon, but I am at a think-tank slump for the moment.

I have gotten a printer, which is totally impractical for printing photos because it runs out of ink so quickly. But, it is good for record keeping and letters and such. So, I'm glad I have that. I got insurance for my gear. I was looking into joining the Canon Professional Services, which we used at the paper. We used the membership numbers and discounts to send the gear in for repairs. As it turns out, you have to have more than one "professional" camera to be a member. I am a bit peeved about this. I have a 5d Mark II. That thing is no wimp. But, my back-up camera is a 50D, which to the CPS, is not big gun enough for me to claim myself a professional. So, no repair discounts or photo magazines for me! And I guess, according to canon, I am not a professional. My ten years of experience, multiple recognitions and a POY (Photog of the Year) suggests otherwise.

The other disappointment has been with the monthly clip contest with the National Press Photographer's Association. I still identify with being a documentary shooter. The best part about the birth photography I've been doing is that it allows me to do just that - be a fly on the wall. Document. But my images are not officially published anywhere but on my website and on my blog, so I am not allowed to share it in competition. At least not the monthly clip competition.

It makes sense. I mean I get it. The clip competition is for clips. Stuff that ran in a newspaper. It's just a shame that in a time when so many of us are no longer feeling connected to that career that we so closely identify with, we can't be a part of it in this way either. It's a bit strange considering the direction the field is going. More and more, images are being seen online. Not in newspapers. I'm not saying I like it that way. I'm just saying that's how it is.

I wrote an email to my former colleagues at the Post the other day and I have to say I got a bit choked-up sending it. I tend to be a bit of an out of sight out of mind kind of person. I don't live in sunny Florida anymore and, even when I was shovelling the driveway this morning, I don't really think about my life there. I knew my way around, knew where to get my favorite foods and where to meet my friends for a drink. I knew where the best beaches were, where to get the oil changed on my car, where all the movie theaters were and where to go for this craft supply and that one, and most importantly, I knew where my friends were, all over the city.

I'm not there anymore, and I'm ok with that. Still, I miss my coworkers and the camaraderie. You know you're bound to miss people when you leave the way I did. The way so many of us are. I just didn't expect it to wave over came a bit while sending an email. I'll be interested to see if I hear back from any of them. I suppose we can all be out of sight out of mind.

Strange Days

I've been a busy bee. Trying to get gear, figuring out marketing for my photography. I designed some promotional postcards and I'm actually really excited about them! My hope is that I can get a bit of portrait clients who wants some pics for the holidays. I'm also advertising in The Boston Parents Paper online.

Today, Pictage was having a deal for a six month membership, so I jumped on it. This will allow me to shoot, then send my clients to the site to order prints.

This afternoon I went to the local doggie boutique to ask if I could get her help with promotion in return for a commission. She's thinking about it.

It's interesting. Stressful, but kind of exciting. Just to see what might happen. Once I finally get my belt pack (the craziness with the previously blogged about camera company has been a real mess), I'm hoping to hit the pavement in search of freelance with local newspapers and magazines. And I'm gettign a hold of area video production companies in hope that they may need a freelancer.

And I just learned something interesting...The Palm Beach Post actually hired a new photographer after the most recent one quit! I don't know why but I feel insulted. I didn't have bitter feelings until just now.

In other news, Oliver is surgery-bound on Tuesday. I took him to the vet for an eye thing last week. The vet said she couldn't see any damage to his eye, but I knew - it's that refractory ulcer again that he got last year. I took him to a specialist a few days ago and sure enough they found an ulcer under his third eyelid, and some small growth on his upper eyelid which may have contributed to the ulcer in the first place.

So, I will be taking him in on tuesday, the poor little guy.

The eye's not lookin' good.

Oliver enjoyed the foliage on Scott's End a few week-ends ago.

The grasses growing out in front of the house.

My Last Day

Yes, my last day was last week but I just recently got these pictures from when I was doing inventory and turning in my gear. G Lovett took the pictures. I'm glad he did.

cleaning out my desk

Looks like evidence!


Very sad to let it all go!

Last Day

I can't really describe this feeling with any other words than sad and strange. I left The Post at about 4 today. All of us who have taken the buy out were to leave by 5, but I couldn't stay any more. I hauled all my camera gear to the studio to log all of it. M trunk has not been so clear in six years. I don't really care for it much, but maybe the lack of weight will help with gas efficiency?
I did have an assignment this morning to photograph a cop who started a camera surveillance program in the city. It seemed fitting considering my jetta was broken into my first night in West Palm Beach!
Gathering all my things at my desk was quite a project too. My friends were quick to respond to my question of "Who wants my lamp and who wants my twinkle lights?". That was nice. The photo department is often refered to as "the lounge" because it's always so dark and each desk is lit only by whatever light each shooter has provided for themselves. I had a small lamp and a string of lights.
All week, people have been asking me how I'm feeling about things and I have not been able to really answer in a succinct way. I have felt, for the most part, together considering the situation. That all ended with my first goodbye hug with one of my coworkers. Then, it was a struggle to not make a complete blubbering ass out of myself. I managed OK.

Then, I got home and cried lots. The dog, who was sitting at my feel for a bit got up and went to the other room. Apparently my weeping offends him.

I also got a letter today from the publisher. It was a letter for subscribers and somehow, the timing was hilarious; paraphrasing, it basically said that the exceptional reporting at the paper, which is going to be smaller by the way, comes at a cost and, sorry, but your rate will go up at the end of August and have a nice day!

Post Photo Staff Picnic

Today was a nice day. The weather was good, there was a relatively cool breeze, and it was the photo department's last hurrah picnic at John Prince Park in Lake Worth. I am so grateful my coworkers organized this. It was so fun.

When I first got there it was a bit strange. I mean, we are there because soon a good handful of us won't be there anymore. There was about six of us sitting around a shaded picnic table when I said something like, "This is really fun with a slight, unacknowledged funereal feel."
TC spoke up, "I'm so glad you said that. I'm so glad I'm not the only one who feels that way!" and then he added, "I was thinking that everybody comes to the weddings and funerals...and everyone's here."

And there really were with exception to a few. Generally, with a staff of 20-some people, it's tough to get us all in one place.

It was hard to not talk about work and ask others what they will be doing next. I admit that I am a bit squeamish with that question too, like when people ask me at the family Christmas party if I'm seeing anyone and the answer is almost only no (may Boston change that for me, can I get an amen).

There was also an interesting thing in that no one seemed to really want to leave. We weren't having life-altering conversations or playing the best games of badminton ever and thus just couldn't bring ourselves to leave, but still, the party got up and going around one and I left with the last group at 6:20. That's a long time to be hanging out in the Florida heat, even if there is a nice breeze.

Perhaps no one had anywhere else to be, but I rather think that we just wanted to hang with each other.

It's amazing how difficult it is to get a decent picture of a group of photographers. It's like asking a pack of hyper monkeys to sit still!

The Storm's a-Brewin'

As you may already know, the field of newspaper journalism is suffering a great deal these days. In the storm of the poor economy, miserable real estate, and the availability of free information on the web, newspapers have been dying like a sweet little child being slowly poisoned to death by it's mother with a case of Munchhausen by Proxy.

At my paper, we are all anticipating buy-out offers and lay-offs in the near future. I feel OK blogging about this considering a local paper has a column about the newspaper chaos here in south Florida. You can read about what some local newspapers have been going through here.

It seems that all we (my friends at the paper and I) can talk about these days is what's the latest we've heard from the rumor mill. They're getting rid of 40% of us. We'll be working like a "small paper" once the dust settles. If you're offered a buy-out, you'll get 2 weeks pay for every year you've worked for the paper. No, I heard it's only one week per year.

And then there's my favorite announcement, made by my dear friend and an exceptional writer at the Palm Beach Post. Rachel said to me, in an effort to keep her spirits up, as we were walking out the building to get some lunch today, "All I know is, the worse it gets, the more colorful my outfits are going to be. Tomorrow I'm wearing my My Little Pony outfit. It's all pink and purple!". Sweet.

Then at lunch she mentioned that she felt like something was dying. I couldn't agree more with that feeling.

There's a strange level of camaraderie that comes from a situation like this. This is an unprecedented situation. None of us entered this field thinking our skills would ever become unneeded. Every day, clusters of people in photo collect in my pod (and I'm sure other pods, too...oh, a pod is what we call the four cubicles which are joined together), and we talk about what's going on. Talking in circles is human nature, and for the most part it's done in an effort to solve whatever the problem is. Unfortunately, there is no solution yet and if there was, it's out of our hands at the moment. So, we talk in circles to feel better, joking about what we'll do when we're not doing this. Taylor suggested becoming hookers and I envisioned driving down the main street in our city and seeing my former coworkers turning tricks in my neighborhood. That made me giggle.

In all the frustration, I feel I have to give it to "the man" upstairs. They have been sending frequent emails out to all of us, one which you can read about here, informing us of what they know (and are willing to tell us). Perhaps I'm being naive, but I'm OK with being naive, because then I don't think that management is simply telling us the same thing over and over when what we really wanna know is when the hell am we're out of a job. They are often telling us, too, that we are all welcome to visit them to discuss what's going on. Perhaps even make some suggestions. In the end, we can never complain that they didn't keep their door open to suggestions. They'll have every right to point fingers at our disappointed asses later and be all it's not like YOU thought of something better to save money.

All that said, I have taken up a diet entirely of my own cuticles and Dove ice cream bars.

Nummy.