My First Job

Oh yes. That goal that all aspiring photographers yearn for... money for their photos. Say whatever you want, but it truly is what distinguishes the amateur from the pro.

About two months ago I was offered a job photographing Island Saving's Christmas party. It was not offered to me by my mom (who works there) so therefore it is legit. Naturally, the only words out of my mouth were "hell, ya."

I sort of forgot about it and then all of a sudden, the time has passed, and the party is staring me straight in the eye. There first thing I have to note is that photographers have far too much gear. As I was packing it up to head up island, I realized that if my mom hadn't offered to give me a ride to Nanaimo, there was no way in hell I would have gotten it all up there.

So fine, I go to Nanaimo and there I am setting up. The lighting is shitty in the conference center. The guy who came to talk to me showed me the dimmers. He walked away and I immediately cranked all the lights in the vicinity. My assistant Bonnie showed up at 5:30 and by that time, people had already lined up to get their photos taken.

Have I ever mentioned that I hate people?

Especially those girls that think they are super hot, but really are wearing tranny type makeup. I have to give it to them though, they can hit the same pose each and every time. I know, because they kept coming up for more and more pictures.

I was supposed to print on site. Which, had I thought about it, is a stupid thing and puts too much pressure on the photographer. But I didn't and at 9 pm I was attempting to print. Except the printer provided was a free one that someone at Island Savings had gotten with their computer. It printed 3 good prints and then every one after that came out red with lines through the face. Which made me look really professional in front of all the drunk people demanding their photos.

The photos? Some are great. Some are soft. Some have bad backgrounds. Oh well, I sure didn't get paid enough for perfection.

But I sure did learn.

S.