photobucket for life

remember when creating was just for us?

This is a recent post I made to Threads. While most of the responses were kind and filled with patience and understanding for a young photographer learning her craft, there was a lot of gatekeeping. Gatekeeping, which I recognized, as I myself have unintentionally done this kind of oblique complaining in my own industry. On the one hand, I understand the bitterness. It’s frustrating to dedicate decades to your craft only to have someone come in, guns blazing and still full of passion, asking questions and sharing subpar works with the confidence of a NatGeo photographer. I do get it. But the thing is, I’m just trying to be part of a community. The thing is, we’re all here for the same reason.

So this is a short post to remind you that your work is your own, and you’re under no obligation to share it just because it exists. Likewise, if you want to publish your writing riddled with spelling errors because you just couldn’t wait to get it out or share your half-baked creative concoction of any sort, you should do it. You’re not here to impress anyone. This is your work. Yours.

And, if like me, you’re finding all the noise of socials and the pressure of performing exhausting, step back. I think about when I first started my PR company, my writing journey, or my photography, and how each time I kept it all locked away until I was sure I felt proud enough to share it. I had to be ready, and ready didn’t have a timeline. It was simply a feeling, and the speed and severity at which I felt it varied.

But the important thing is, I didn’t feel the need to tell everyone what I was doing at every second of my day/life/existence, and I didn’t ask their permission.

I created because it was fun.

I revised because it was playful.

I shared because I felt joy over what I’d made.

And sometimes, I wish we could go back to the days of Instagram and their eleven filters, of food photos on the grid and what are Stories anyway? I wish it was Photobucket for life and Facebook albums filled with blurry nights out. We can’t. But we can remember what that felt like, and we should do everything in our power to keep it close. To remember why we create, and to break all the rules when doing so. Even if that means staying off social, or not sharing every minute detail, or keeping some bits just for yourself.

Happy creating. <3

My first 12 Instagram posts ever. Music stuff, Toronto stuff, and puppy man stuff. Sounds about right. <3

P.s. still howling over

lindsey peters berg

’s photobucket post and really wanting to do my own. The problem is, I had so many accounts and I can only remember my log in to the most boring one. And did you know they charge you $5 just to access it now?! Anyway. Stay tuned.