Why Photographers Can’t Make a Living

This weekend, I received two emails from an individual interested in purchasing rights to one of my images. The first read as follows:

Kari,

I’m a photographer, too. I had an idea to use an image of a hissing goose on a T-shirt. Instead of shooting it myself, I did the lazy thing . . . a Google search for the image and found yours. It would be perfect.

Would you sell royalty free rights to use it? Price?

Anonymous Photographer

 

Then, just thirteen minutes later, another email from the same photographer.

Kari,

Apologies. Please disregard the previous email. I found one for $19 on Shutterstock.com.

Anonymous

 

When as photographers, we don’t value the work of one another, how can we expect anyone who doesn’t spend thousands of dollars on equipment and travel expenses and countless hours in the field to get it? I don’t blame the guy for purchasing a $19 royalty free image – my price would have been significantly higher, and as a consumer I’m often tempted by lower prices too. I blame people who don’t value their own work and sell it for pennies, making it nearly impossible for professional photographers who make a living off of their craft to command a fair and reasonable price for the images they create. I also blame society for creating a culture where quality photography isn’t valued and respected. This photographer wasn’t an idiot – he knew that $19 was a dirt cheap bargain and there was no way I was going to offer my image for so little, otherwise he would have waited for my response back to him. And, after looking at his website, I’d be willing to bet that there is no way that he’d give away any of HIS images for the royalty free price of $19!

If you are a photographer – amateur or pro – do all of us a favor and don’t give away your images for nothing. By doing so, you devalue the work of photographers as a whole and make it nearly impossible for full time professionals to make a living, those photographers who depend on selling images to put food on the table and a roof overhead. I’m not saying you should charge your daughter to photograph her new baby, or that you shouldn’t donate your services to an animal rescue group or grassroots conservation project in your hometown if the cause means something to you. I’m just asking you to THINK! If a client can afford to pay, they should, and if a client stands to make ANY money off of the image you are providing, such as the Anonymous Photographer above wanting to sell t-shirts, they you should be getting a fair price for your work. Don’t be fooled into handing over an image for exposure or the honor of being published. Being a victim and allowing someone to steal your work is not honorable, and by selling your photographs at minuscule prices, you are only reinforcing that our work isn’t worth much and making it easier for companies whose pockets are much deeper than ours to continue taking advantage of us.

Thank you!

I feel really lucky lately. Granted, my life is not all sunshine and rose petals, but all in all, I have little to complain about. I live in a wonderful place, I’m surrounded by supportive friends and family, and I get to do things I love on a regular basis.

I’m a passionate person. I work hard, play hard, live hard, and love hard. I crash hard too. For the most part, many of the things I do, I do with all my heart and soul. My life is generally one big euphoric cloud of adrenaline and enthusiasm, and most of the time, I’m riding high on a big white puffy cloud of positive feelings. The thing is, the higher I get, the harder I can fall. Yet never once in my life have I fallen without someone to catch me.

Never once in my life have I crashed alone, and because of that, I’ve never crashed for long. My crashes are momentary bursts of emotion that tend to be a mix of sadness, loneliness, confusion, sometimes anger, and always incredible amounts of love. Even in the depths of my lowest lows, I always love the world.

I just got back from an amazing amazing trip to Acadia National Park with members of the North American Nature Photography Association. Acadia is one of my favorite places, and every time I go there I fall more and more in love with that place. I also always seem to meet really fun and interesting people there, and this trip was no exception. Despite the foliage not being quite at peak, the uncooperative weather, and limited shooting I did, I had an absolute blast because I was with incredible people. My co-leaders were probably the most inspiring group of pro photographers I’ve had the opportunity to work with, the participants were pleasant, positive, talented, and a whole lot of fun, and the others I met who don’t quite fit into the first two categories were simply exceptionally awesome people. I couldn’t have shared this experience with a more wonderful collection of individuals.

So when the good-bye hugs were shared, the “see you laters” murmured and car doors shut for the last time, I felt a sense of loss. This is not unlike other trips I’ve led, and I’ll admit a few or more tears were shed as I once again began to contemplate my whole life and what do with it. Internally, I felt my two halves – the one the yearns for a life of stability, security, and familiar roots vs the one that craves a life of constant inspiration, adventure, and exploration – tug at me. Part of me wanted to dive into the wilderness and not come out for a while. Part of me just wanted to get a massive hug from a friend.

I could go on and on about how these intense and immersive trips take their toll on me, or about how I have an amazing assortment of friends scattered all over the world, most of whom I see in person not more than a few times a year, if that, and how I wish that were not so much the case. Sometimes I feel like my heart can’t handle it anymore, being fragmented into so many pieces that have been broken off and given to various gypsies or homebodies whose home just happens to be a different place than mine. But then I realize I was gifted with massive heart, and no matter how many times I love I will always be able to love more because that is who I am.

I like who I am most of the time, and it’s possible for me to be that person because of the many kind and wonderful people who have been a part of my life, particularly those of you who have assumed an ongoing role. I’m a very independent person, but I thrive on human contact and interaction, and as much as I enjoy my moments of solitude, the truth is, I can’t be who I am in isolation. I need people. I need you.

So this note is really a thank you to all of you. This is a thank you to the NANPA folks and other environmental photographers who inspire me and get me excited about the work we do. This thank you goes to my friends who are just a phone call away when I need someone to share good news with, to unload emotions on, or just to entertain me on a long drive. This is a thank you to the people who make me smile, who challenge me, and who remind me of who I am at the core of my soul.

So many people have touched my life, some only briefly, and some who have anchored themselves with roots that will continue to grow as the years go on. My mom has been my biggest supporter since the moment I came to be, and my adopted family in New Hampshire make a state I’ve lived in for only a couple of years feel like home. While biking across the United States in 2009, strangers took me in, fed me, and gave me a warm shower and a clean bed. I get messages and emails from kind strangers offering words of encouragement and support, and sometimes glowing compliments from people I’ve known only briefly, but whose comments touch me deeply.

I don’t know if it’s possible to adequately express the gratitude I feel towards all of you using words and the limitations of the English language, particularly via such impersonal and electronic means as a blog post. I mean to say thank you, and I mean it to mean something, but I’m imperfect and I don’t always know how. The truth is, you all make a difference, and I know that part of who I am is just because that’s who I am, and part of who I am is because of who you have allowed and enabled me to be.