Retired After Shooting Nearly 200K Images

I've added a number of cameras to my collection over the last 10 years, but this is the first time that I can say I've actually worn one out. I bought this Canon T3i about 3.5 years ago as a backup camera for shoots on the go. In reality, I ended up using it almost exclusively as the travel camera that I packed on road trips. Even I'm amazed that in just a few years I clocked nearly 200K shots on a secondary camera that I thought I was using part-time.

What happens to a camera after that much shooting? Well, the shutter is noticeably slower than it used to be. The sensor has a minor, but workable glitch. The viewfinder guard has fallen off. The back screen is cracking again after I replaced the glass once a year ago. The kit lenses both have a grit to them, likely from the sand collected on repeat shoots in the California desert. The telephoto has a rattle and no longer focuses properly when fully zoomed. There are also a smattering of to-be-expected scratches and scuffs. 

All things considered, this camera has held up remarkably well for how many miles it's traveled and for how much abuse it's took. As someone who shoots a lot of travel content in the moment and on the go, this camera was constantly getting tossed around in my backpack. I'm not the least bit disappointed about how its held up or performed. This Canon has been a workhorse and its earned its spot on the shelf next to my other retired cameras. 

Replacing and upgrading equipment is par for the course with any media business - and in this case I bought a brand new camera and series of lenses specifically for future travel shoots. What makes it bittersweet is that I captured so many incredible adventures with this T3i. It was far from the most expensive camera, but I certainly got my moneys worth over and over again. Curious to see some of what I shot with it? Explore these travel collections for more:

• Aloha Hawaii
• Around Alberta
• Roadside California
• Pacific Northwest
• Middle America
• Motor City
• Shambhala    

Dream Chasing 101: Some Simple Advice

This month is one of personal milestones. Three years ago in February 2014, Editing Luke transitioned from being a glorified side gig to my full-time business and media production company. In that seemingly brief time my reach has increased by actual millions, the scale of my projects has grown, and I've been humbled to receive a bit of recognition along the way. Perhaps most meaningful however, is the realization that twenty years ago in February 1997, at the age of 12, I bought a used video camera with what little money I was able to accumulate and decided then and there that I was going to make "movies" for a living.

I couldn't have known then what the next two decades of my life were going to look like, but through teenage ambitions, a film school education, and the growth of Editing Luke, it's fascinating to look back on the thread of this dream that has linked so many formative moments. While I could rehash many of these chapters in detail, I thought it might be more valuable to share a bit of advice that I've come to embody in this pursuit. These are a few things that I found crucial in turning my dream at 12 years old into a reality at 32.

1. Hold yourself accountable to what you really want to accomplish. 

I realized early on that the main thing that separates success and failure is a willingness to accept challenges. It's easy to quit. It's easy to not follow through. It's even easy to start, but then give up when the rewards aren't immediate. If you really want something, and have a desire to succeed, you have to put in the work knowing that achieving a dream is just that - work. Tell yourself otherwise and your efforts will always be half-assed.

As a student I understood that starting this website was an easy way to share a few of my goals. In the beginning my audience was really just friends and family, but by putting my ambitions in writing I felt like I'd made a promise that I wanted to hold myself to. Even to this day, especially with a much larger audience, I now feel more dedicated than ever when it comes to what I share and create. It can be a lot of self-imposed pressure at times, but there's no doubt that holding myself accountable has kept me improving and building on past accomplishments. 

2. Fail forward.

Failure is to be expected along the way, but it's also guaranteed if you never take action at all. Some of the greatest lessons come from not quite succeeding, striving for something you weren't quite ready for, or stepping outside of your comfort zone. These kinds of failures are actually badges of honor that will make you reconsider your mistakes moving forward. Embrace them. You won't learn anything if your fear of failure keeps you from trying.  

Some of my biggest failures, specifically during my film school years, became huge character building opportunities. When projects didn't go to plan, it was often the limitations that made moving forward easier. Limitless choices can be paralyzing, but when backed into a corner you realize how many solutions come from being forced to make a move - any move at all. It doesn't mean things always work out perfectly, but it does keep you from stagnating in a bad spot.  

3. Find your niche.

It's only natural to take inspiration from others that you aspire to be like. In film school I spent a lot of time experimenting with different styles and approaches to media that I saw from a variety of directors, visual artists, etc. that I admired. When it came to shooting my own work it quickly became apparent that while I had a lot to learn, there wasn't much value in just being a cheap knock off of other filmmakers. Experimenting was an easy way to start developing a style that felt more personal. The more I recognized a gap in the types of content and styles that I wanted to see, the more my own work felt authentic.   

This lesson became especially true as Editing Luke (as a production company) began expanding. I knew I didn't want to be a wedding photographer / videographer or be entirely focused on creating ads, so I made a concerted effort to take on (and promote myself as a creator of) more culturally / travel / narrative based projects that I felt would differentiate my business from what I saw others doing in my region. It was really difficult in the beginning to establish this where I was located, but even after just a few projects I could see how it set my business apart. Nowadays it's much easier to just browse a few of my project highlights and get a quick sense of what my niche is. Being different worked.  

4. Work harder.

This is an unpopular piece of advice, but it's the most obvious truth about how I've managed to become my own boss and build a company where I get to do what I love for a living. As much as I enjoy photography and video, the success of the business only came when I learned how to market myself, network, work with other teams, and push for bigger and better projects. In a nutshell, I had to work harder than those who wanted to do this casually just to prove that my business could even exist.

As a teenager I already knew that it was going to be difficult to make a career out of something that a lot of people considered a fun hobby. This only became emphasized as YouTube and social media exploded and anyone with access to a cheap camera became an instant filmmaker and photographer. On one hand it was great, because I wouldn't be where I am now had this not happened. However, it also reaffirmed that working harder was the only thing I could actually rely on to get further ahead. The energy I've put into the development of this website (which will turn 10 this year) is just one example of the effort I've made to grow.

5. Forge your own path.

The beauty in taking any advice is that there are numerous ways to make it suit your own ambitions. Your success is not determined by how well you follow instructions. Your success is determined by how well you can adapt, evolve, and roll with the punches.

The idea that I'd be back in Medicine Hat, Alberta running an independent production company, that I'd be travelling all over North America to create content, that my work would appear in international film festivals or reach millions online, etc. etc. was not a reality that anyone sold to me or instructed me on how to achieve. It's not even something that I knew I was specifically heading towards or looking for. Frankly, this could all change again in a year. And who knows what I'll be sharing in another two decades from now. 

The point is that as unpredictable as the journey is, finding your own way is a million times more exciting than chasing a stereotype of what you thought your dream was supposed to look like. I struggled with this a lot after university, but continued to redefine what it was that I really wanted. You have more control than you think. Achieving your dream requires action, a bit of bravery, and persistence. Stop waiting for permission. Go and make it happen!   

Flood Exhibit: A Shoot for Salazar

Last night I was back shooting at Medalta Potteries. Unlike my past work however, I was actually doing a follow up shoot for a project by Salazar Films out of Vancouver, British Columbia. Aaron Nelson, the Artistic Director at Medalta, was responsible for putting me in touch with Salazar when they were looking for a local filmmaker to assist in their project after they'd finished their primary shoot in Medicine Hat. Anyway, long story short, it turned out to be a good connection.

The exhibit, Flood by the students of Elm Street School, opened last night and was a showcase of artwork on clay tiles depicting student's memories surrounding the devastating flood that hit Medicine Hat last year. It was cool to interview a few of the kids and see them get excited about their work on display. I also put my big HDV Sony away, and took the opportunity to shoot with one of my DSLR's for a change - this is something that I'll probably be doing a lot more of moving forward. 

Stay tuned and I'll be sure to follow up when Salazar releases their finished film. In the meantime, here are a few of the snapshots I took between setups.

Upgrades for a New Year of Production

Last week I delivered my final contract edit for 2013, which essentially marked 4 straight months of contract projects on top of a full-time photography/editing job. I have never been more consistently busy in my professional life than I was during this time. I'm thankful that I had the opportunity to choose some really cool projects to take on, and at the same time I think I was walking a pretty fine line. 

Now that the chaos is finally dying down, it's amazing to look back at how much I've done since mid-August. Without much free time to spend the contract money that I'd been making, these last few weeks I've been celebrating an early Christmas by upgrading my arsenal of production equipment. From a new professional video tripod to a new shotgun mic and sound accessory kit, I've spent a lot of time online doing some guilt-free spending. I've also upgraded all of my video and photography editing software, and added a few new external hard drives for cataloging all of my backups. 

It's not even that any of my equipment is in that rough of shape, but with every completed project I feel the urge to make an improvement or add a new option. It's a pragmatic way of keeping my equipment up to date.

The upgrades are also just an excuse to play around and get excited about taking on new projects in 2014. I bought myself a new DSLR this fall for that very reason, and it worked at getting me excited to experiment again. I can't wait to see what the new year holds, and in the meantime I'm having a blast playing with my toys. All those extra hours do come with perks! Thankfully, I finally have a bit of downtime to get myself organized and enjoy them. 

Celluloid Seattle @ MOHAI

While touring the Museum of History and Industry in Seattle, Mike and I were really looking forward to checking out the Celluloid Seattle exhibit. I love trying to find pop culture locations when visiting any city, and this display took the guess work out of it for us. From Frasier to Sleepless in Seattle to 10 Things I Hat About You, we had fun seeing how much had been filmed in the area. A model of the Fremont Troll even encouraged us to search it out when we got back to our hotel. Stay tuned for that photo set.  

Pike Place Market model.

Model of the Fremont Troll seen in 10 Things I Hate About You.

Frasier living room.

How Important Is Camera Equipment?

I tend to receive a lot of random messages about my images, the style I shoot, and various other production and editing quirks - more of my lesson posts can be found here. After another such email about photography, I decided it was time to summarize a few of my thoughts on the importance of the camera equipment you use. Recently I received this message:

Hi Luke! 

First off, I just came across your blog for the first time today and it has been really helpful so far so thank you! Secondly, I was wondering if there is a camera that you use most often when shooting stills? 

I graduated from the film program at Cal State - Northridge last May and since then I have just been pretty lost as to what I want to do career wise. I'm just really overwhelmed with all the routes I could take, and I just don't know what to invest my time in. I've always loved photography and shoot a lot in my free time but all I own is a canon 60d and only have one lens at the moment (50mm, 1.8). 

Anyway, I was wondering if you had any suggestions as to how I could get my hands on more equipment in the cheapest way possible as I am currently unemployed. Also, how crucial is it to own a bunch of equipment (lights, lenses, camera bodies etc) if I decide to become a professional photographer? 

Thanks again! 
Emanja

I appreciate the message, Emanja. I wanted to respond to you in a blog post seeing as a lot of people can probably relate. I know I've had a lot of the same concerns in carving out my own path. 

There are many who swear by their high-end cameras, fancy software, and arsenal of extras, but at the forefront, it's what you photograph that really matters. In the simplest terms, that's what you should be most concerned about. A keen eye, interesting subjects, a method for sharing your work, the right connections, etc. - these things matter more than whether you're using a $200 point and shoot or a $5000 SLR. Any camera that can shoot a picture in focus is overflowing with potential.  

Don't get me wrong, having nice equipment to work with is a plus, but don't let that be your road block in getting started - people who think expensive equipment will make up for a lack of creativity are fooling themselves. 

To answer your question, I have a range of cameras that I use on a regular basis - the most frequent of which are a Sony point and shoot, a Rebel series Canon, and a 5D Mark II. And before you go thinking that I threw the Sony in to be humble, I really do believe that a decent point and shoot is a must, and I've actually sold a number of images and prints using that little camera.

There are different requirements whether you're doing weddings, or portraits, etc. However, speaking as a corporate photographer I have a basic 3 light set up, a few soft boxes, reflectors, and a light tent that I use in the studio. Outdoors I keep it especially simple, and try to plan shoots for when I know the light will be best. My personal shooting motto is keep it simple and capture a lot. In total though, for the variety of work I've done, my equipment isn't nearly as fancy or elaborate as it probably could be.

In my experience, it's been my editing that's really helped my images stand out. Using just a small collection of programs, none more than photoshop, I've taught myself to build custom filters, play a lot with tinting, and develop a style for my work. Many photographers like to build their shots in camera (which is absolutely fine) but for me I really build my shots in the processing. In my opinion, it's a very easy way of putting a stamp on the work you do - not to mention, if you're photographing familiar things, the editing is like an exclamation mark for the subject matter. 

So here's my advice, if you want to be a professional photographer then simply start working towards that goal. Play with images and take lots of them. Take your 60D and continue to build a portfolio, get your friends to help you with shoots, share your work online, and determine the kind of photographer you want to be. Check out thrift shops, eBay, or even garage sales for props or used equipment on the cheap. Submit your work around, build a simple website to attract attention, and consider applying to places that require photographers - newspapers, magazines, websites, tourism, etc. for added experience - even if you're working contract these are great places to pursue. A few solid shots online with your contact info attached, and the doors will start to open rapidly. Media is always in demand, but to start you have to chase the work to make it pay.

At the end of the day it's your images that speak, and developing a body of work is paramount. The regular messages I receive are often about specific shots and how I achieved a certain look. The cool thing about that is that it's the picture that draws the attention, and people can't tell how much (or how little) money my equipment cost. You can do amazing things just with the basics, and regardless of the type of photographer you want to be, a distinct style and professional aesthetic will come with practice. You already have a camera, so prove what you can do with it.

Focus on creating captivating and unique images first and foremost and the work follows. Talented artists are seldom born because they had the best of the best from the start. Good luck, and happy shooting!

Archiving Home Videos

Over the last few weeks I've been capturing a tape at a time of my uncle's old home videos on VHS. They span from 1989 to the mid 1990s, with a couple of tapes from a New York trip in 2001. In all there's been over 30 hours of material, and the goal has been to archive the footage on mini-DV tapes and an external hard drive to then burn DVD copies. It's a slow process, but I'm happy to preserve the few moments of my childhood that were caught on tape too.

What has struck me most in doing this is not just the obvious of how much time has passed and how people have changed, but it's how the tapes themselves have degraded over two decades. Some of the footage is particularly grainy and there are lots of audio dropouts on some of the tapes. The reality is that stuff like this can be easily lost if it's not backed up and archived over the years. I've even found this to be true of pictures backed up on CDs just a decade ago - some of them don't hold up at all.

In some ways this project was motivated by the loss of my aunt, because it emphasized just how valuable these memories were. In general, I think it's been a reminder of how important our photographs and videos really become as time passes. Sometimes they're invaluable in triggering specific memories. 

In any case, I'll be sure to share any of the gems from my childhood that I come across as the archiving continues. In the meantime, you might want to get busy backing up your own memories tucked away on VHS before it's too late.

My sister picking her nose on camera, haha.

Grandma's Last Roll of Film

Having shared a number of my Grandma's old cameras, like her AGC folding camera and GAF 880, this Pentax Espio 105G was the last (and newest) camera she had. What actually made it most interesting to me was that there was still some film left in it, and she'd taken a couple of shots. I told myself that I'd use up the film when the right opportunity came along and see what was left on the roll.

My cousin made plans to do some photo shooting with me last weekend and the urge struck me to use the camera as we explored a bit of the clay district. I shot a lot of the painted walls and various textures, as well as my cousin capturing a few shots too. After I got them developed I thought my pictures turned out alright, and what was left were three images that my Grandma had took - likely the last pictures she ever snapped.

On one hand I was thinking there might be nothing on that roll of film. But then, I also let my mind race with the promise of some great mystery, like the pictures would start me off on another journey of discovery. The reality was that at first glance these last three pictures were nothing much. I was a bit disappointed. And then I looked at them a few more times, and it struck me how fitting they actually were. In their own simple way, they were very much my Grandma's.

The glare of a setting sun on the wall, a stormy night sky, and the flowers on the table were the focus of her last shots. They were all taken from her seat at the kitchen table. As my Grandma's mobility declined, it was from this seat that she'd explore the world through magazines and newspapers, and perhaps it's what struck me as being so genuine about these images. In a very humble way, she was still fascinated by the world just outside her window. 

Looking at these shots now, all I can think is how much she always loved the beauty in nature. She was keen to share pictures, talk about a sunset she saw, or mention how strangely the light was reflecting off of something. It seemed to come out of nowhere sometimes, but it was certainly an appreciation. It's perhaps a bit poetic then that I finished off this roll of film on a warm spring afternoon, photographing exactly the kind of random details of an old Medicine Hat landmark that I know she would've loved to talk about. Sometimes pictures really are worth a thousand words.