Photoshoot Story I

Disclaimer: This week’s post is short, as I have been procrastinating on my writing, and haven’t finished any of my longer stories. Next week maybe.

I have not discovered my niche for photography yet. Which I realize is a pretty important step in my photography career, and it’s especially bad when I have been comfortable using a camera since I was about 12 years old. I’ve had 10 years to decide, and I still have nothing. I have been doing a lot of landscape photography lately, but I feel that there is something missing if there aren’t any people in the composition. I know I don’t exactly hate macro photography, but I’d rather shoot anything else. Event photography is fun, but it’s usually extremely stressful, and dark. Mood lighting is the worst. (Who am I kidding, it’s beautiful, but it’s a photographic nightmare). I like weddings alright, but since weddings aren’t my favorite thing just in general, I don’t want to spend my life shooting them. I know that I enjoy portraits, but I can’t honestly say it’s a passion. I really enjoy architecture photography and in my dreams I am a street photographer and travel the world, but I still haven’t found the one photo subject that keeps me up at night making plans . . .

I do enjoy the spontaneous photoshoots that happen sometimes. When the light is perfect and there are models who are comfortable and excited that I ask them to stand there and look pretty.

That’s how I got the photos I’m talking about today.

There’s not a lot to do on the weekends in Lincoln when you’re broke and don’t have your own house. So, we have to be innovative. A lot of time for me that means photoshoots. This is my friend Kasondra, and these are a few of my favorite photographs of all time. The lighting was just right, and she’s a wonderful model.

I just need take a minute to appreciate this woman. She has been an absolute rock in my life. We met during orientation week, freshmen year of college. She was rowdy and loud. I was shy and terrified. I knew no one. She knew everyone. (I don’t know how she does it). I’m not sure if she remembers how we met—but I do. She was moving all her things into the dorm. I was already moved in, but was heading outside to do something, and she asked me if I could hold the door open as she moved boxes from her car into her room on first floor (Lucky her. I had to take my stuff all the way up to 4^th floor, with no elevator). I said I would, and stood there holding the door as she moved stuff in. The door clearly had a sign that said “do not hold door open” and I ignored it and the dean came out and yelled at me, because holding the door open apparently makes a bell ding at the front desk until it is closed. I was so embarrassed. Great start to the first week of college.