Follow Your Bliss

I spent much of my early career with a camera pointed at landscapes. The first light of day, a sky shifting colors, the raw beauty of nature—that was where I found beauty. Portraits?.. Yeah—nah! I admired them, but I had no desire to replicate them. The majority of my nature photography was about omitting anything man-made … adding people was never my way.

That belief held until I met Lou, a portrait photographer with decades of experience. His studio was filled with carefully lit images, each one alive with feeling. After a long chat he looked at my work, then at me, and insisted, “You should do portraits.”

I laughed it off. “I’m a natural light guy. Landscapes are my thing.”

But Lou wouldn’t let it go. He saw something in me I couldn’t yet see in myself.

At first, I thought his invitations were polite gestures. He asked me to come back any time, and I did. Nearly every gap between work and sleep I was at the studio, learning about his life as a photographer.

Raised in the mindset of “nothing comes for free” I returned the favor by cleaning floors, dusting frames, and rearranging displays. It felt like busywork, a way to thank him for his time.

But then he let me sit in on sessions. I watched how he placed lights, how he coaxed expression, how he turned his subjects into art.

After many private lunch-and-learns at his desk, he let me in the camera room.

Our friendship grew to a level I would never have expected when we met. Lou offered me a partnership. At first, I didn’t know what to make of it. Why me? I didn’t see myself as worthy of sharing space with someone so established. But he was steady: “You have what it takes. You just don’t see it yet.”

Those words sank in slowly. They weren’t just about photography. For me they were about a massive level of trust.

I had spent years believing my lane was narrow, that I was only meant for landscapes. Lou showed me that worth often lies hidden until someone else reflects it back to you.

Looking back, I realize how pivotal that experience was—not only for my career but for my life as a father. Lou was single. Working 5a-5p daily would not be an option for who I saw myself to be. I wanted to build a life where I could have a family. To be present, not just a provider who was always gone.

I knew that I didn’t want to be a “starving artist” and was determined to defy the odds of success that stacked up against this craft.

Photography wasn’t just about portraits or landscapes. It was about discovering my worth, trusting it, and creating work that allowed me to be the kind of father I wished I’d had: more available, more attentive.

Lou has long since passed, but his influence lives on in every portrait I take. He taught me that worth isn’t something you wait to feel—it’s something you step into, often before you believe you’re ready.

So much of our value is tied not to what we think of ourselves, but to what we are willing to try, to risk, to grow into. Sometimes we need someone like Lou to hold up a mirror and say, “You’re capable of more than you realize.”

And sometimes, we need to remember to say it to ourselves.

If you’ve ever doubted your worth, I invite you to pause and ask: What would change if you trusted the possibility that others already see in you? Because when we begin to know our worth—and live like it—we discover not only who we are, but who we’re becoming.

Brian – Gratitudaholic. Storyteller. Light-seeker.