What Are We Even Doing Here?

A friend recently had some questions about Terrible Photographer.

Good, honest questions that led to a conversation where I ended up writing them down and then share them here, with you because I think they are helpful.

My goal here is to share, as clearly as I possibly can, what Terrible Photographer really is, beyond just a book and a podcast.

I want to answer some 10,000 foot, fundamental questions:

What do we stand for?
Why does this exist?
What problem does it actually solve?

These are questions nobody really wants to talk about.
Because it’s not about gear.
Or hustle.

It’s about something way more personal.

If you’ve ever looked at your work and thought, “This isn’t me,”
or “I love this so much—why doesn’t anyone book me?”

If you’ve ever wondered why photography feels more like marketing than making, or if you’re just tired of the performative game we all have to play to do the thing we actually love…

You’re not alone.

This is where we begin.

Welcome to Terrible Photographer.

Let’s Name the Elephant

Every industry has its unspoken problem.
Let’s just say, ours isn’t megapixels.
It’s the slow, quiet death of creative voice.

Most working photographers (and the ones clawing to get there) are stuck in a three-way chokehold:

  1. Money Confusion – Booked but broke, or never booked at all.

  2. Voice Amnesia – An Instagram feed of presets and peer imitation dressed up as “style.”

  3. Metric Worship – Good work ignored. Shallow trends rewarded.
    Algorithm & peer approval anxiety at DEFCON 1.

That cocktail turns professionals into content printers…
And aspiring shooters into lifelong students chasing the next trick, tool, or tutorial, still wondering why they feel empty.

What problems does The Terrible Photographer solves? (Or attempt to solve)

The Terrible Photographer exists to reverse that slow suffocation:

Symptom Our Antidote
Starving / under-pricing Real talk on value, positioning, and getting paid without selling out.
Brand all over the map Field Notes & Light Leaks that drag buried voice to the surface.
Copy-machine portfolios Prompts and episodes that dare you to deviate, boldly, publicly, on purpose.
Metric anxiety & burnout Weekly reminders that honest work outlasts flash-in-feed trends.
Creative flat-line Stories and challenges that reignite curiosity and re-center why you shoot.

No growth hacks. No “five-step funnels.”
Just clarity, curiosity, courage, and the occasional kick in the ribs. (Metaphorical of course)

Why Does The Terrible Photographer Exist?

Because photography lost something.
Somewhere between the presets, the pressure, and the performance, the voice went quiet.

We’re here to bring it back, not with rules, but with rebellion.
Not against the craft, but against sameness.
Against boredom. Against burnout.
Against being broke, being fake, and being just another photographer.

Terrible Photographer isn’t a brand. It’s a call.

A nudge toward curiosity.
A dare to make the kind of work you actually care about.
To get paid without selling out.
To build a voice that’s unmistakably yours.

We’re not the hero of this story. You are.
We’re just the voice in your ear reminding you:
You can do better. You can be bolder. You can make something real.

What Does The Terrible Photographer stand for?

  1. Honest work over hype

  2. Bold curiosity and the courage to explore

  3. Kindness as a creative superpower

  4. Hard work that beats raw talent

  5. Creative courage over playing it safe

  6. Equality and access with no gatekeeping

  7. Transparency instead of posturing

  8. Generosity instead of ego

  9. Voice over imitation; your work should sound like you

  10. A community for makers, not just marketers

  11. A belief that photography should be human, not just content

Why We’re Unapologetic

Because the loudest voices right now are selling shortcuts, clout, and the myth that relevance = obedience and sameness = success. Fuck that.

Because good photographers are drifting into thinking that how you make it, is by starting a YouTube channel or teaching a workshop.

Because voice, craft, and integrity deserve louder champions.

We’re not here to fit in.
I don’t care if camera brands sponsor me. (I actually don’t want them to)
We’re here to carve a different path.