A lot of times I get asked how long I’ve been a photographer. There are so many ways I want to answer that question, but usually I stick with the actual date that I first picked up my camera and started creating.

I could answer with when I became a full-time photographer, but that seems a little bit silly since nothing really changed on that day at all, except my stress levels.

I could answer with when I started honing my style, which was years and years before I ever picked up a camera. It was when I started writing when I was single-digits old. It was when I started making short films in high school and college. It was when I started writing poetry. And it was when I picked up my camera.

I could answer with the most recent time I reinvented myself, which is very akin to starting over entirely, questioning your process.

All of those answers are true. And in fact, I don’t even entirely consider myself a photographer. I am one, and I revel in taking pictures, but I am many other things as well – a director, a writer, a set designer… a cat lover? Lots of things.

Too many people have told me that they feel beaten before beginning because they just started photography and there are so many people so far ahead of them. I’ve met people who have decades of experience but feel disheartened by not knowing all of the current trends. The new photographers wish they had years of experience, and those with experience wish they could see the world with fresh eyes.

How long we have been practicing our craft isn’t always related to the way we create. The artist I am now is not the artist I was when I started. The person I was then is different, too. The only thing that remains the same is my intense love for creating with my voice, my vision, and zero compromises. As I piece together a new series, and reflect on how I have changed a huge chunk of the way I work and run my business, I find myself thinking of how scared I am. How, at times, I question what I’m doing, wishing I had years more experience on one day and on another, wishing I was just starting out with no pressure or expectation.

Yet other days I let myself soak into the reality that, each and every day, we are connected with the voice of our soul. We are compelled to create and so we do, and how long or short a period of time you’ve been creating is irrelevant. Every day we are reborn. Every day we give ourselves new opportunities. And every day, the fear creeps in with the light, and we must quiet that voice that tells us someone else has more experience, or that our tricks are old hat. The moment we listen to that cryptic voice is the moment we lose a sense of why we create in the first place.

It isn’t to measure the years we’ve been clicking a camera, or the consistency with which we have fresh ideas. It is to die and be reborn over and over, as all artists should do, to discover something so much more important than age or professionalism or value; it is to discover our worth, and our uniqueness, and to create with the most mighty of swords – our voice.

There was a time when I started photography that I thought I would be taking the exact same pictures forever. When I picked up my camera for the first time and made something, without anyone telling me what to do or how to do it, I felt free. I felt like I had expressed my truest voice, and it was there in physical form for anyone to see. I put it online. I shared it with co-workers and family and friends. I was proud. Not a day went by that I didn’t feel like I was creating what was true to me. During those first few months I began to receive emails telling me how awful my pictures were; it was only fuel to my fire. I thought that made it so much more interesting and fun, to have differing ideas of what “good art” really was. But then something happened. My art didn’t change, and the feedback didn’t change (good or bad), and my love of art didn’t change – I changed.

I let my art change with me. I started thinking more deeply about why I create and what I wanted to say. I began introducing color into my wardrobe, symbolism into my props, and more robust locations into my work. I was ready for change and I let that reflect in what I created. It wasn’t the first time someone didn’t like what I did, but it was the first time someone who had previously enjoyed my work no longer did, and wanted to let me know.

This is the crazy thing about creating: we start creating for ourselves, because we are the only motivation in the beginning to create at all. But then we share that work and the pressures of other people creep in. Will they like this? Will they give me motivation to create again?

Suddenly there is a huge emphasis put on THEY, when in fact your passion started out as simply YOU, and the sometimes elusive I. Will I like this? Can I motivate myself to create again?

My work has changed three major times over the course of 7 years. It started out quite dark, monotone, indoor locations, no props, and often nude or in a bed sheet. It transitioned into simple yet slightly more colorful works that often took place in nature, yet were still quite dark. And then it transitioned again into a fascination with fairytales and creating characters to portray in the works. These have been the 3 directions in my work, and I love each of them.

I am currently creating my 4th style.

I have let the infamous THEY slither into my mind on too many occasions. I find it embarrassing to admit, but I wonder if everyone feels that way, and so I say it out loud. I have had internal struggle with wanting to produce something of value, while also wanting to produce something that can be immediately digested and spit back out by the collective internet. This is the plight of shoot-edit-release; I want it done quickly, I want feedback immediately, and I want to move on to creating more positive affirmation.

We are addicted to opinions. We are obsessed with hearing what someone else thinks: of our clothes when we shop, of our decisions when we falter, of our art when we create. The number of questions to our friends and families, even near strangers on the internet, of how we live our lives and what we produce from them is staggering. It would seem that the only opinion that gets buried is our own. A thought appears and we second guess it. A desire wells up and we question it. For what? For whom?

Toward the end of 2015 I made a promise to myself. I would be creating fewer images with more meaning, taking my time in putting them together and releasing them at a gallery show. I would be creating for myself, in whatever way I want, with no regard for reception. I would create without apologies. I would create for myself.

I had to rediscover what that meant. I have created many images, and I could even argue that all of them fulfill a vital part of myself. But sometimes it isn’t enough to create an image for yourself and then immediately give it away. I wanted to keep hold of what makes it mine; I wanted to revel in that process, and not cut it’s life short.

It is a terrifying thing, to create in one way and suddenly change the way you work. It is even more scary, if I am being wholly honest, to not only change how you work and question how it will be received, but to change how you share and risk your community forgetting about you. If we are being real, that is my fear. I am in love with this community and I fear it will disappear if I do not create new works of art every week, militantly.

This is a risk I am willing to take. I create art for myself and for others, but for now, it needs to be on my own terms. I must create with the heart I have developed and the mind I have questioned on many occasions. I am ready to dive in to my new style. I am ready to manifest a new vision. I am ready.

I will never tell you to be unafraid in the face of change. It is scary, and it does look like a black hole. But you’ll find that when you get close enough to that change you have been so fearing, time stands still. The world exists for you to create. I was told recently at a dinner that, though I could not yet understand, being 12 years too young, when a person turns 40 they stop caring, intuitively, about all of the mess of lies that the world spins – vanity, jealousy, etc. I decided that, while it was a nice sentiment, and certainly true for some people, I didn’t need to wait that long. I could change whenever I felt the need. And I feel the need now, to let go of how my art is received; to let go of how I am perceived; to let go of my fears, doubts, and nightmares.

Create how YOU would create, not how THEY would have you create. Share YOUR opinions and do not let THEIRS interfere. Tell YOUR story, or the stories of the world in your way, instead of telling your story in a way that would make THEM more comfortable. Make someone uncomfortable. Make yourself uncomfortable. Challenge what you do and question if you are truly on the path that ignites your world. Set it ablaze. Write love notes on paper airplanes – leave caution to the wind.

We did it! When I started my promoting passion series I had no idea that I would make it to 100 videos! But here we are, and I can safely say that for the last two years I have released a video (almost) every single Monday. The topics ranged from photo shoots and editing to inspiration, storytelling, and adventure. I had such an amazing time creating them, and coming to the end of the series made me think a lot about content I want to create next year as well as my goals for the upcoming year.

When I started the series, I didn’t know if I could commit. Making a video Every.Single.Week. is not as easy as it may seem. It required a lot of planning and scheduling and putting big girl clothes on when I just wanted to stay in bed some days. But it was an amazing thing in my life and it won’t be going away anytime soon. I won’t be doing a video every single week, but I will be producing two a month for 2016. One will focus on more sit-down, interview style inspirational talks, while the other will be a more playful behind the scenes look at an elaborate and ongoing series that I’m focusing efforts on.

All of this “thinking ahead” made me want to write out my resolutions for next year, so here they are!

BROOKE’S RESOLUTIONS & GOALS:

1. Finish and sell my novel.

2. Start and finish my creativity book.

3. Begin a new charity project.

4. Successfully run year 2 of the Promoting Passion Convention.

5. Finish and exhibit a new series.

6. Submit 10 motivational speaking applications.

7. Become a smarter business woman.

8. Start a portfolio case company.

9. Experiment once a week with a different way of creating.

10. Be kinder every day.

If you share your resolutions with me in the comments here, I will be choosing one person at random to receive a 1-hour Skype mentoring session so that we can talk through your goals and work out an amazing plan to move forward!

PS…Be sure to watch the final minute of the video for ridiculous bloopers with my best friend and assistant Kelly!

Image: “Forgotten Treasures”, Character portrayed by Steph Perez, Photographed in a location provided by Marsha Denlinger.

In it’s infancy the whole idea felt distant and therefore attainable. As any big idea looks from far away, it appeared small and manageable. Something happens once you give an idea momentum – it gets closer, and looks bigger, until you suddenly realize you might not be able to pick it up by yourself. Such was the case with the Promoting Passion Convention. It was so simple to say that I wanted to create an event, but so difficult to pick that event up and take it where it needed to go by myself. So I got help.

First with Christine Heidel to help me secure a location, and then from Kate Hailey to help me find sponsors. After that, it was just me and Kelly working every day to make it come together.

There were three distinct times when I almost cancelled the convention altogether. The first time was before I announced it publicly. I was having a hard time finding sponsors to support a smaller, first-time event. I was having trouble communicating with the location. And I had nerves about getting anyone to show up. So just before I announced it online, I thought about canceling it and waiting until I had all of the sponsors in place so that I didn’t have to worry about money. The second time I almost canceled the convention was the day I announced it. Logically I knew it would take time for people to sign up, but in my imagination I was hoping for a massive success and that people would be beating down the door to sign up. When registration felt like crickets chirping, I panicked. I came much closer to actually shutting it down that very day that I announced it. The third time I nearly canceled was one month before it was set to begin. I didn’t have enough sign-ups to cover my costs and I was really worried about how much I might have to pay out of pocket.

The excuses I made are riddled with two attributes that I, as a general rule, don’t feed. And yet, in this case, I fed those traits everyday, with the most fattening food I could. Those traits were greed and shame. By canceling the event because I wasn’t making money, or because I’d have to spend my own money to make it happen, was just plain greedy. Perhaps I thought there was some rulebook saying that in order for something to be successful it must also be a monetary success. This has never been true and will never be true. The act of doing the thing is the success, and anything else is extra. The shame came from not wanting to look silly in front of everyone. I kept envisioning showing up and having there only be a few people at the event and feeling embarrassed that I couldn’t pull more people in.

But I realized that none of these things would be true. Success is not measured by money, and shame is something that can only seem a reality if you manifest it outside of yourself. The moment I act ashamed is the moment others can see my shame. The moment I cancel the event is the moment I draw attention to my own fears. So I turned my thoughts around entirely. I remember very distinctly writing down five reasons why no matter who came to the convention, it would be okay:

1. There will be a better sense of community with a smaller group.

2. There will be more 1-1 time and individual attention.

3. There is more room for audience participation.

4. The speakers can be more personal and interactive.

5. The attendees will have a better experience to spread the word for next year.

The moment I wrote out those five bullet points, I felt calmed. Sometimes all it takes is seeing the other side of a situation to silence your inner demons. And when I did, I was healed. We didn’t end up filling our seats to capacity, but when all was said and done we were only 10 people shy of that, and I found that to be a success. Because you see, no matter what the situation ends up being, there is always success to be found in the smallest triumphs and the biggest failures. There is goodness in all things if we choose to see it. There is a way to give thanks and a way to let it crumble, and I would rather be thankful, always.

I wanted to share very openly about my struggle in putting the event together, as I did throughout the convention itself, because we are not alone. I realized, as I stood on stage for the first time at my very first convention, that it would be easy for me to look out at a room of 100+ people and act like it was no big deal putting it all together. But that is the lie we tell ourselves. That is the lie we perceive about others. I thought that I must have looked so professional up there, lights blaring down on me, as I looked out at the amazing individuals who came out to support the event. But that is the lie, and this is the truth:

We are all scared.

And being scared should not stop us from realizing our greatest potential. It should not stop us from pursuing our greatest dreams. The moment it does is the moment fear takes over and quiets the voice inside that shouts at us to be more. It is that voice, coming from within, that should be listened to, never the voices from outside telling you all of the reasons why you will fail. They are cocky, overloaded, booming voices that speak from a place of hatred and never love.

In the midst of the convention, people started asking if I would be hosting another one next year, and I found myself automatically saying yes. The environment was so encouraging and loving that there was no space for that negative voice to be nurtured, and so I answered as my most loving self. I said yes. And in that moment I realized that I had missed something on my list of reasons why the convention would be a success, no matter what.

Someone would be deeply touched, no matter how many people showed up.

And that person, along with so many attendees, was me.

What we can’t guess at is how they got to the top. Was it a tough climb or an easy ride, air lifted to the top? The answer is irrelevant. Regardless of how it happened, they got there. And similarly, you can choose to climb or ride. The only difference is that the ride may never come.

Sometimes we lie to ourselves by reassuring our injured egos that a person who has accomplished more was simply given a break, and they didn’t work hard to get there. This is usually a lie, and even if it wasn’t, it has no impact on your life or your journey. Because while there are many ways to get to the top of your mountain, there is only one way that you can choose…to climb.

My first love was writing. After that it was filmmaking. And only after that was it photography. I thought, for the first few years of my career, that photography was my passion. But what if photography fades from my life? What if I suddenly find myself without a camera in my hand? Will that mean that I’ve lost my passion? I don’t believe so. Passion is deeper than the medium you create with, or the job you go to. It is the reason behind doing that thing that you’ve grown so accustomed to. And with that comes the willingness to change the way you manifest that thing. It is the why, the behind-the-scenes brain-work that lifts your life off the ground. It is your imagination fed. Passion can never be lost. It might hide, but it is never gone.

My passion is storytelling. It is making others see beauty in darkness. It is shedding light on those things which many people shy away from. My passion is not photography. My passion is sending messages.

If you are trying to find your passion, I suggest a few different methods to hone in on something. And you must promise me a few key things. First, you will try hard. And I mean really hard. Try so hard that it tires you out. Fail so often that you cry. It is better than never trying hard enough to find the soul of your soul. Learn every day. Never stop seeking knowledge. Believe that you have a passion. It might not be obvious, but then again, all of the best things lie “in secret, between the shadow and the soul”, as Pablo Neruda would put it (and was also part of my wedding vows).

1. Try Harder

Seriously. I mean, really. Try to find your passion. Try everything until something sticks. Motivate yourself. Search.

2. Learn More

Seek knowledge. Never believe it is a good time to stop learning. The more you know…

3. Define Your Strengths

If you know what you are naturally good at, you know how to begin finding your passion. Do what you’re good at. Do what makes you happiest, and go from there.

4. Join Meetups/Clubs

Find like-minded people to encourage you into a certain activity, hobby, passion, etc. The more people there are to make learning fun, the more likely you are to stick with a new project.

5. Ask WHY More Often

Question what it is about a certain thing that you like so much. I could easily say that Photography is my passion, when in fact, I don’t enjoy clicking a camera and going out on shoots nearly as much as I love the story behind why I’m creating. When you ask WHY, you know WHY.

6. Find Your Message

You have something to say that someone needs to hear. Guaranteed. Don’t argue with me.

7. Stop Making Assumptions

Never assume that you simply don’t have passion. The moment you allow that excuse to slip off of your lips you can rest assured you have gone off the deep end and you are almost certainly doomed to spend the rest of your life doing something that doesn’t fulfill you. That might be an exaggeration.

8. Believe in Imagination

One of the biggest problems that a lot of people have is not believing that they can dream big or that their imagination is worth as much as someone else’s. Passion requires imagination, not just to come up with what it is that you love, but to pursue it. Creativity is kind in a world where entrepreneurs and passion-go-getters are rewarded. So put stock in imagination. Believe you have enough of it to get in the game.

Model: Jen Brook

There is a certain song that we sing, sometimes without realizing that our voice escapes our clenched throat, that vibrates through the air, noiseless, until it beats against the place it was meant to find. The lyrics are without words yet speak to a place inside where the voiceless booming of magnetic poetry carves itself in deep. Words are not necessary in this song. It is a pounding mystery. The ocean beating rocks against one another, or the crack of thunder. It carries inside itself a booming melancholy, or a rich light, and when we hear it (for only we can) we know it to be true. Such is the way with certain places. We release a song and hear nothing until it hits hard the place that makes it sing. Such is the way with humans. Such is the way with the soul.

Iceland – June 4th 2015 – 9:00pm

We arrived at the lava rocks with both joy and sadness. It was our last stop for our 5-day adventure together. The friends that I loved would be departing the next day and right then, in those few hours, we would spend our last moments creating art together. I stepped out on the rocks for the first time and bounced. I felt like a child, touching and smelling something for the first time. We rejoiced at so many things that evening – the way the clouds continuously changed, each calling to one another to look in different directions, each of us in awe. We jumped from rock to rock, holding hands, calling out, and laughing. We each strayed off by ourselves for brief moments, taking it all in. And I went with one of my best friends to shoot a private series.

The cold lessened that evening more so than the other days. We felt warm with life and excitement and so creating art nude and exposed felt easier than other times – more comforting. Soon enough we were barefoot, letting the moss tickle in between our toes, and I was glowing with inspiration. When I was photographing my friend, I wondered if the power that we felt would translate in a single image. There are times when I wish I could bring the viewer to the shoot, make them (you) feel the air and touch the ground and let your heart beat to the rhythm of that creativity. But in the moment, knowing there is no way to translate such a feeling, I had to settle for doing the best I could with what I had – a powerful woman nestled in the heart of all hearts, the soft ground covering the dangerous lava rocks in the land of fire and ice.

And so I created five images in a series, making her body look like the landscape. I photographed the first image and asked if I could keep going, changing my angle each time to create a triptych of the same model in nearly the same poses from three different angles. I photographed one pose of her reaching for the camera. At first it spoke to me as someone who needed to be rescued, but the more I looked at her reaching there in that place, I felt she was beckoning to me. Pulling me in and telling me to stay forever in this place where my heart sang more than ever before. Finally at the end of the shoot the inspiration fever had caught on, and Jen asked if she could join the shoot, which I was absolutely delighted about. And so I ended the session with both of them there in that powerful place, a finale to a poetic and emotional day.

Model, Images 1-5: KD Stapleton
Model, Image 5: Jen Brook

I decided to share a backward edit of the photo I am sharing today to emphasize how everything that we do begins as a small idea. It may seem impossible, it might seem like it isn’t worth finishing, and there might be people criticizing the idea or the process; but in the end, when all is said and done, it is not the finished product that means half as much as the journey. An idea stays an idea unless you see it through to the end, and in the end, people judge their lives based on how many ideas became reality.

And if you would, share what you plan on doing this week that will turn an idea into reality. I want to be inspired by your commitment to seeing it through to the end.

I’ve heard people counter the idea that with imagination we can create anything we want. Someone once said to me:

“I know that imagination is nice, but it won’t make the gray clouds outside go away.”

We can see through the darkness if we bring our own light. We can imagine and create and believe and see the world as we want to see it. If I didn’t believe in this, I would not be living the life I am living, and that is a life I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world. We build our own fortune. We carve our own book of words to live by. We write the song of our life.

Art allows us to manifest these desires and visions. It allows us to spread our messages. It gives us power where once we felt nothing. It gives us hope where once we saw despair. And above all else, it gives us a voice. It allows us to speak through universal words that contain a thousand different meanings.

Imagination is the life-blood that flows through the veins of an artist. I believe all people to be artists. We do not manifest our art in the same ways. We do not all see the artist in ourselves. But it is there, sometimes sleeping silently, but always there, waiting. It is up to us to wake it.

What is your relationship with IMAGINATION?

If I had videotaped myself a year ago, or 6 months ago, or even a couple months ago dealing with this exact situation…it would have been uncomfortable. Disappointment is just not something I can stomach. But this time was different. I was different.

I had my initial gut reaction. I let myself have it. I didn’t break down, but I let myself feel the hurt. Quickly though, I moved past it, and I did so with three steps. Simple, but life-changing for me.

The first thing that I did was to immediately begin reciting positive mantras to myself, out loud. I just started spewing off anything I could think of that would lift my spirits and allow me to remember my worth.

The second thing that I did was to remember the big picture. What was happening hurt in that moment, but it would not define who I am or what my career is. It would simply be, and then it would be forgotten over time.

The third thing that I did, and most importantly for me, is that I reacted quickly. We have the opportunity, during any given situation, to decide how we feel about it. I decided, right there and then, exactly how I was going to handle the situation (by writing out solutions and taking action immediately). This helped tremendously in making me feel like I had control over something that seemed out of my hands.

We are all creatives, and a lot of us pursue creativity either as a passionate hobby or as our professions. As such, we know what it is like to put ourselves out there and receive criticism. Many of us suffer from anxiety given the right situation. How do you overcome it?

Would you be willing to share a tip or two that you practice to overcome fear, anxiety, or criticism?