Like all photographers or creatives in any industry, I work so much sometimes that it almost becomes robotic, automatic, technical. I can't even tell sometimes if my work is good or inspiring  or moving because I'm often so hung up on the technical aspect of image capture that I find myself miles away from what I was trying to achieve in the first place. So yeah, I stalk commercial photographers for some sort of divine inspiration to bridge my gap between robot and artist. Erik Almas, Melissa Rodwell, James Quantz, Joel Grimes, the list is endless, really. It's also a completely fruitless endeavor. My work is, was and will always be, my own. As much as I hate it sometimes, as much as it doesn't even mildly resemble the the artists I stalk and find myself inspired by. It's mine, like or not.

And in the process of becoming mine, something brilliant happens. Something wildly organic. Something completely out of my control and so beautiful that no robot could ever duplicate in a million, machine made image captures. During the process of trying to be technically perfect and achieve exactly what I want, I fail. I look down at my view screen and cringe at how awful the image looks. How is this possible? My settings are exactly what they're supposed to be. I stayed up late last night, for hours going over in my head, exactly how to shoot this one fucking image. And it sucks. The models are perfect, beautiful and patient, and clueless to my failure. They do whatever I ask because they trust me. They can't wait to see the images. They're excited. I'm mortified. This is not at all what I was trying to do today.

And then it happens. I quit. I shut down my lights, grit my teeth and curse under my breath as I walk back over to my bag to put my triggers away. "Are we done?", one of the girls asks. I don't answer. Instead I mess with my gear, head down while I go over scenarios of working at Home Depot. Because that's where I belong. Not out here pretending to be some pro photographer.

"Seriously, are we done already?", she asks. I'm forced to say something. And then, thank God, my inner pirate kicks in.

Fuck it. Let's just do something completely different and have some fun. Fuck it. Fuck it all. And we start shooting again.

I don't even really know what the camera settings are. I don't care. This is not at all what I was trying to do today. Other photographers will see these and cringe. They'll think, "What the hell is he trying to do? These are terrible." Fuck it. And fuck them too. I don't care at this point. It's organic, it's natural and it is what it is. And all of a sudden I realize, it's mine. It's not at all like the photographers I stalk but I kind of like it and now it's fun.

The girls see that I'm at ease now and moving more confidently, directing more, looking at my view screen less, shooting more. I almost don't care what it looks like anymore. I'm in the moment. I'm having fun. I realize how blessed I am to have these two girls in my life and what a great time we have when we go out shooting. And it becomes something other than a photo shoot. It becomes an expression of life and where we are at this point in it.

And then I realize where I am in my creative, professional journey; right where I'm supposed to be. Always learning. always trying, always failing and always trying again. The robot me thinks these pictures suck. The creative me is in awe of how these images were born. Had I not failed at trying to be one of my idols and shoot exactly like images I've seen in their portfolios, I'd never have this.

Or this.

Or these.

My father, who was the king of poetic metaphors used to say to me, "You can't begin any journey while docked in port. At some point you have to let go the ropes and trust the currents. You'll end up somewhere but it won't be here." 

So yeah, I stalk a few commercial photographers and sit in awe of their amazing skills. I wonder if I'll ever be like them when I grow up. Either way, along the journey, I'm thankful for my inner pirate, my fathers wisdom, my amazingly beautiful and sweet step-daughters, and for the joy of technical failure. Because without it, I'd never stumble across the wonderful and natural process of organic creativity. Machines take pictures. People capture images. And the process is unique to us all.

Embrace your failures, let go the ropes and go where the current takes you.

CRAIG SCHIAVONE PHOTOGRAPHY 2014

Over the years, I've had my share of capturing school plays, musicals and talent expos, but I'd have to say that I was particularly impressed with the overall talent level of this cast. From leading rolls down to scene extras, this group was well rehearsed, well directed, focused and very, very good.

Cast members seamlessly navigated their way through long dialogue sequences into carefully choreographed song and dance numbers, without pause or error, for nearly two hours. As if that wasn't impressive enough for a group of teenagers, the musical and vocal performances by the students were awe inspiring. Lead performers absolutely stole the show with incredible displays of vocal ability, equal to that of major stage and theater. I'm sure the drama department will be hard at work trying to replace the talent of the departing seniors in next years performance. Until then, enjoy some images from the last night of the show.

Craig Schiavone 2014

We were really only looking to test some different off camera flash set ups and a few custom light mods but Ricardo turned the workshop into a really cool photo shoot. He comes from the fast paced hair fashion world in Manhattan and is an incredible talent when it comes to design and style. Looking back on these images makes me want to schedule another workshop with him this summer. His salon/studio is located in East Brunswick. Below are a few images of his incredible work and salon.

I bought it mainly to cover sports with my 1D-X but have managed to grab some pretty incredible shots before any spring seasons kick in. I haven't noticed any significant drop off in image quality from 150 to 500, but I still need to put it through the ringer to see what it can really do. So until I get a chance to head out and shoot anything of real importance, enjoy these lovely shots of the man in the moon.