When Practice Becomes Work: A Self-Portrait Session I Almost Didn't Shoot

The Itch

For the last week or two I was feeling a bit down and needed a pick-me-up. I had two options: shoot something or finish the composite I’m still tinkering with. But I couldn’t escape this feeling that I wanted to make something, not finish what I started. A weird logic, I know. However, this internal struggle continued for days, and I found myself stagnant again with plenty of time to wallow in self-pity and doubt.

No matter how many times I flipped through my idea book or looked for inspiration, nothing seemed to move me until I came across a post by fine art and commercial photographer, Glynn Dewis. In the post he discussed a meaningful portrait he made of a veteran, and shared behind the scenes shots along with the final image. The simplicity of the setup reminded me that I have everything I need to create. All that remains is for me to get off my ass.

three black and white images of a male wearing a checkered top faces away from the camera with his arms wrapped around himself in three different poses. — *Is This Me, Huggin’ Myself*, digital photography - triptych, 14 × 40 in, July 2026

Where the Real Doubt Lives

Springing into action took more than simply getting off my ass though. I encouraged myself by asking, “What if you tried something, anything?” Suddenly, my internal critic clapped back. Suggesting my lack of plan or concept wouldn’t produce anything meaningful. It was all “Bullshit, bullshit!” For context, my internal critic looks and sounds like Danny Devito’s alter ego in It’s Always Sunny, Ongo Gablogian. He screamed, “Derivative!” at all my ideas. My will began to quake. Doubt was bringing to win out. Despite the overwhelming urge to give in, I pushed forward, and picked up my camera.

Taking that first step isn’t easy, but somehow the second step is just as crucial. It keeps the momentum going. If the goal is to shoot something, I wasn’t about to allow myself to get away with snapping some candid shots and calling them “good enough”. In my mind, I needed to go through the entire shoot process, whatever that might look like. My inner critic pushed back insisting I had everything I needed except models. I considered some of the wonderful artists and photographers that inspire me. Most of them shoot self portraits.

In reality, none of that mattered. I was merely looking for buttons to push that would result in not shooting. Why disappoint myself further? Forget that there were elements of my creative process I wanted to improve. Pay no mind to the curiosity poking the mind and wondering if I could do that. Disregard the desire to understand how the art is created by putting your hands in the fucking dirt. Cast off the stress that would come from trying to get something just so. Somehow I convinced myself to at least set up the lights and see what happened after that.

*Setup / Process shot*, digital photograph, July 2026

The Pivot

Abandoning the Plan

One of the challenges of self-portraits is getting over yourself, and I think that applies even before you sit down in front of the camera. This was to be a three light shoot for a more fine art aesthetic. As I was setting up the lights, checking focus, and all the other minor things before I committed to the shoot. At every image coming through my computer my internal critic screamed “Bullshit!” like I even asked. I gave up the lighting plan and, instead, decided to figure what works inside what I created.

Getting back in front of the camera usually takes a few frames to warm up the muscles and relax the nerves for both the photographer and the model. When you’re both, you find even more reasons to doubt because it’s all on you. The first few poses were horribly stiff and uninteresting. The lighting didn’t quite flatter. There were shadows in places I didn’t like. That sort of thing. Suddenly, it occurred to me this weight I was feeling might be me trying to control this every element. Where was the breathing room? I was suffocating myself in some ways. It just wasn’t working. Pivot!

In the moment, the only idea that came to mind was to flip the script. I tried poses and expressions that were more comical. Some seemed more terrifying than a dramatic portrait of a wonky pose. Maybe terrifying is the wrong term, but definitely unsettling. The more I tried to play with the posing, the more I found it was leading me away from what inspired my plan in the first place. It didn’t matter because this was just an exercise anyway. But the comedy wasn’t working. Disappointment was setting in. However, I was in a rhythm now, and I didn’t want to stop. So I turned around.

The Pose

Was This Me?

Sure, those first few images of myself triggered more self-critical thoughts about appearance, age, hair, and anything else deemed faulty. Somehow that changed when I turned away from the camera. A playful attempt at childhood humor by pretending to make out with myself forced me to look away from the person and at the form. I couldn’t see my face. I was no one. My body was a form covered in different fabrics and textures. There could be something there.

There was a sadness to these new images. Something underneath that I didn’t intend to capture. My posing in this light suddenly felt lonely and distant. It seemed like I was watching a vulnerable moment unfold, but, meanwhile, I was acting kind of like a fool. The humor of the action in that light produced something a bit more serious. And I like it. At least, in theory anyway. The true test would be in the edit. I braced myself for disappointment.

The Edit

Where Story Shows Up

For some reason, my mind was set on coming out of this with a single image. I might find others that I like or work nicely, but they were individual. I was never shooting with a series of any kind in mind. Like the shoot, I was basically winging it here, and didn’t have a clue what I was looking for, but I was looking for that image that would make me scream like Ongo, “It’s everything!” However, I was confident I would know when I saw it. Famous last words, right?

As I worked with the images, I clicked back and forth through a few images hoping to find the difference that stood out as “everything.” Viewing the images in different ways as threes and fours made me realize there could be a story somewhere. I didn’t need a story, just the suggestion of one. That was more than enough for me.

Where the Story Goes

The story began to show up when I viewed three of the selects side by side. Suddenly, a reflective and somewhat solemn mood appeared on the monitor. I was compelled to look more at them. It came together more when I cropped all images to a square format, and aligned their framing as close as possible. The final image became a triptych, and I was struck by the result. My simple exercise had somehow produced unintentional art. It went from practice to work the moment something genuine showed up. All the frustrations I felt were nothing more than paving the way for real work.

Now that I’m off my ass. Let’s see if I can stay that way.