It’s not easy being you, or me.

These last few weeks (months? I have no idea of time scales right now) have been an immense ball ache. Mostly in terms of my photography, but it seems to have spilled over into this world too. I went through a mahoosive rebrand of JMP, completely changing my logo, my site, my design, even my style of photography, EVERYTHING. In fact, the only thing which hasn’t changed, is the business name (although that might not escape quite so easily in the future).

It shouldn’t have been so difficult, but it really was. Why? Because I was trying to reflect me, in the entire brand. I didn’t want to give it to someone else to do, a) I can’t afford it, and b) I’d have been the most pernickety bastard and never been happy with it. (And c) I only have myself to blame when it does all go to shit, instead of contemplating yelling at someone else. Which is never pretty.) And the hardest thing in trying to reflect my entire self and true personality in my brand, is I have seriously had to remember who the fuck my target audience is.

I spent ages asking other photographers “what do you think of this?” and ” does this work?” without actually appreciating the fact that THEY ARE NOT THE ONES I AM TRYING TO APPEAL TO. I took far too much time telling myself “be different, be yourself” and then panicking over the fact that my site looked very little like other sites (and even more ironically, spending ages looking at other sites and becoming bored because they were all starting to look the same to me).

The thing is, people, including myself, often fear something different; are scared of change; don’t like when someone sticks out. It’s human nature, innit? I get that. This blog right here is fine example of that. I’ve had my moments over the years I’ve been blogging where people have a dig because they’re scared of what I do. But that’s fine! I’m not writing to please them! But it turns out it’s a similar scenario with my wedding photography.

I’m trying to appeal to a particular type of bride, one ideally similar to myself. Now, that should be quite straightforward, but um, I’m not entirely sure who I am. Still. No, this isn’t some kind of deep and spiritual shit, far from it. Seriously, I have no idea who I am. I know who I want to be (stylish, funky, cool and manageable crazy) and I know how I come across (fucking insane and slightly messed up with little sense of anything), and I have no idea idea how to merge all this into one, acceptable, feasible ball of appeal.

Ummm….

The logo I have created is manageable, for me. Big bold colours, yet simple and easy. And obvious. And flexible. (Name, camera, done. Obvious, no?) The site isn’t quite where I want it to be, but I don’t think it ever will be; I think it will always change, much like myself. And that’s ok. But trying to convey myself through a real business? Fucking hell, that’s no easy shit. but it has to be done. I’ve been very aware of the brides enquiring, and whilst they’ve all been lovely, many of them are soooooo different to myself. Not necessarily in terms of styling, but attitude to photography, life, fun, everything. All the other stuff. One thing that I do think is awesome, is that some of my best couples have come from twitter. Not my stuffy old @JayMountford account, but actually my @cosmicgirlie account. Why have I enjoyed them so much? Because they’re booking me for ME, AS WELL AS the work I do.

I’m a package. When you book my business, you book me. My personality. My attitude, my energy, my enthusiasm, everything. Not just my camera. And sometimes that’s hard to remember, as I keep thinking I should go into some kind of “Professional Mode” whereby I’m really sensible and serious, and trying to Do The Job Properly. Thing is, I do an even better job when I’m being me. Or at least, when I’m not trying to be who or what I think other people think I should be.

Holy shit this is way more confusing written out, than when it’s in my head, not helped by Isaac reading Thomas the Tank really loudly, complete with sound effects.

Anyway, I’m wary of my identity. I’m wary of people saying shit like “no you shouldn’t mix your business and personal world”. I’m conscious of working in a certain way and turning off clients. Thing is, clients are booking me because of ME. And I won’t book them all. And that’s fine, because if I WAS booking them all, I think I’d be doing something wrong. But I guess this is one of those “leaps into the unknown”, where I slowly but surely let more potential clients know who I am, and what I’m really like.

It’s time to stop pleasing other photographers, and time to start giving more of a shit about what my clients think. Because ironically, that’s the time when I’ll start to enjoy my work even more, and start to please myself. I tiny group of other togs have been helpful as anything, and there’s no way in heaven or hell my business would have come this far without them. I wish I could offer the same to them, but as they’re all already way ahead of me, I guess I’ll just have to pass it down, rather than pass it back up. I don’t know if others agree with the whole thing of trying to be yourself rather than being an industry standard; I’m trying to shake that off now, mostly because it sucks.

Maybe I’ll stop sweating this shit, accept that I should indeed just be myself, and stop listening to the noise of everyone else. Especially as the variables from everyone else are infinite. AND THEY ARE NOT ME. Filter the advice needed, shake off the bits I don’t need. Everyone has something to say. But they are not me. Of course, when my business falls on it’s arse and I have no bookings at all in a few years time, I’ll come back to this post and eat it, no?

You’re a Mom. You should deal with it.

When I decided I wanted children, I totally knew what I was letting myself in for, right? When I, finally got married and started trying for our first child almost immediately, I knew perfectly well that I would have a pregnancy filled with happy smiles, beautiful bumps, wonderful yoga poses to die for and a spring in my step. I knew childbirth would be a breeze, and I especially knew that for the first few months of Noah’s life, I would bond with someone I had created, grown inside me for 9 months. And then, 4 years later, I knew that my first born and I (and subsequent child!) would be the closest things ever to have walked the earth, to have a special bond, to love each other more than life itself.

I’m talking bullshit, obviously.

Pretty much none of the above happened for me. Did I see it coming? Of course I bloody well didn’t. Did I anticipate much, if any of the epic shit and sweet holy hell I’ve been through since becoming a mom? Fuck no. Did I sign a waiver that dictated I would never have any downtime, never be allowed a day off sick, never allowed time to rest? Not to my knowledge. Did I anticipate that there would be days when I would want to neck a bottle of sleeping tablets when it all got too much? Did I appreciate I would would feel like I was being torn by each limb and every fibre of my heart and soul, wracked with “Mommy Guilt” on a regular basis?

No. I fucking well did not.

All of this has been floating around in my head since someone actually said it to me recently. I don’t know if they were serious (I’m hoping to fuck they really really weren’t). But the thing is, they are words that at the moment (or most other times) I can’t even take in jest, let alone in a serious conversation. But having listened to them in previous conversations on life in general, I have really come to question people’s beliefs and understanding of motherhood*, parenting, hormones, mental ability and anything else you want to throw in there. The words “you signed up for it” struck more of a nerve than I realised at the time.

There is no predicting becoming a mother. There is no, NO predicting what hormones may do to a woman once she becomes pregnant, not even at the stage where she has given birth and has the child - her child – in her arms (if that is even a possible situation).

For me, I can’t describe the awkwardness of becoming a mom. I love Noah to bits, obviously, though it felt like I had to, rather than I wanted to. He and I didn’t get on very well in the early days. He was fine – what else did he know? I struggled. Uncomfortably so. I know other moms out there go completely the opposite way. Their baby arrives, and suddenly nothing else in the world matters. Nothing. Friends, family, their own parents - NOTHING. And weirdly, because I have seen the difference in myself from pre- to post- children, I get it. I understand it can be that different. It makes more sense than I would like.

The tough part is understanding it. As an outsider, I can’t answer for anyone else in their own circumstances. But I do believe it takes a big strong person to stand up and even BEGIN to consider what’s happening. Mentally AND physically. I believe it’s almost impossible to understand another person’s mechanics when you’ve known them in one situation for so long. Mostly because it’s what you’ve grown used to; become accustomed to; come to understand. Thing is, I don’t believe anyone is 100% prepared for becoming a mom, because no one cam dictate the behaviour, thinking and emotions of a newborn and a parent.

I wanted to have children. Sure I did. Of course I did; it’s one of the reasons The Mr and I got married. I wanted to bring someone into the world (and Jesus, what a world to bring them into…crap…), I wanted to experience the battle wounds of pregnancy and childbirth, I wanted to have someone I could be proud of for numerous reasons, I wanted to feel that strong maternal bond and parental instinct.

Shit man, imagine my surprise when that totally didn’t happen, eh?!?

Fact is, I didn’t sign up for anything. I didn’t agree to anything. Because how can I when I have no idea what to expect? It doesn’t matter which way any parent goes, mom or dad, I’m willing to bet they didn’t know the extent of the impact of parenting. And not even just after the first child, but after the 2nd, 3rd, 7th, 12th – WHATEVER. There IS no dictating.

Honestly? I think some people actually lose their minds when they become parents. I’m convinced they go through hormonal and physical transformations so huge, it throws them completely off-kilter, turns their world upside down, so much so that nothing is common sense any more. And them there are others who are crazy insane, and suddenly become the most sensible people upon having children. And the fact is, it was unpredicted. And none of them “signed up” for any of it.

Weird thing is, I think it would be wrong to say I didn’t have some sort of inkling. Of course I knew it wouldn’t be plain sailing. I knew it wouldn’t always be sweetness and light. But no matter what, the day that positive pregnancy test happens, there is no predicting anything that will come next. I’m seem to recall never having done sleep depravation classes prior to the last few weeks of pregnancy. I must have skipped the classes where everyone went round smashing each other in the crotch with a metal bar, usually without warning. And lord, I just KNOW I should have paid closer attention to my depression so that I’d have a good idea of coping with the possibility that I didn’t love my son as much as I should do.

I guess it was obvious that I was destined, as a mom, to never ever be allowed, or feel need to complain about anything I go through. It was clear that I should have had the foresight to “toughen up” and deal with whatever motherhood was to throw at me; despite not even being able to mentally stand up in the first place. Obviously, I should have been able to not only foresee balance but also imbalance; dictate my emotions, my strengths and my weaknesses.

Over exaggerating? Being sarcastic? Poking fun at myself/whingers/naysayers? Of course I bloody well am.

Being a bit over dramatic? Should stop whining about the bits that break me and just think about the bits that are good? Maybe.

Being blatantly bloody honest about how much of it I think is bullshit? You bet your ass.

 

* I mention motherhood, though honestly, I refer to moms and dads. Moms aren’t the only ones to go through mental and physical overhauls when kids are born. I’ve seen that with my own eyes.

I want to be THAT mom. With THOSE kids.

The school holidays are right around the corner.

I have done a ton of preparation, though, most of it is in my head. What? I am ALWAYS full of ideas.

Sadly, I’m just spectacularly shit at executing them.

Every holiday season, I think about all the different things I want to do with Noah and Isaac. Take them to soft play, go digging in the garden, go out shopping, do some painting, bake some cakes, go, er, somewhere, do, er, something. You know, that sort of thing. yet, every time, it feels like a) I’m not doing enough b) none of it ever seems to happen c) they don’t want to do anything/want to play cars/Lego. It’s weird. We hardly ever do stuff. I want to do stuff. I get frustrated.

Truth is, I’ve now been employed in Parenthood for over 4 years, and I STILL don’t know what I’m doing. I read a couple of manuals a while back, I gave some to The Mr (he never read his, dammit) and I’m still none the wiser. I ask them what they would like to do, and they’re completely uninspired. And I suggest things that we could do, and they’re completely uninspired. Even when it comes to asking “Shall we go out somewhere” (which in my mind translates as “shall we get the hell out and maybe get some fresh air, even if it is only a 20 minute drive in the car”). Nope, they just wanna play cars/Lego/watch a DVD.

I’ve already resolved to severely cut down TV time, in a bid for it to be more effective when I actually need it. I’m also guessing I will have to use it as a babysitter from time to time, since it turns out, I still have to fit in work somehow (I can’t BEGIN to discuss how much that combination terrifies me for 8 weeks). They’re very independent (maybe that’s part of the “problem”?) and are surprisingly happy to while away a day of Not Doing Very Much. But this instinct or something (I want to say “mothering instinct”, but I always howl with laughter at the mere suggestion of such a thing) tells me I should be Doing More With The Kids.

Sadly, I find it painfully difficult to disconnect from work, when I know that sometimes, my only adult interaction for the entire 12 hour day is with clients. I asked a couple of the parents at school if they would like to meet up over the holidays; needless to say, the majority of them are escaping the country/working/sending their kids to the grandparents/other options. I’m not sure how to deal with this, as I have also noticed that, in trying to throw myself into as much work as possible, I seem to have dwindled significantly on Real Life Friends. Even more so, ones with children the same age as mine, where we can all actually get involved with stuff. Where are they all? Are they doing the same thing as me? Sitting at home or in the car (or indeed, at soft play) wondering what the hell to do and counting the hours before they get to speak to another adult?

I wish, quite often, that I was That Mom who didn’t spend so much time wondering what the fuck, exactly, they’re supposed to be doing. I wish I was That Mom who sprung out of bed each morning to the sound of the kids doing whatever, good or bad, and just dealt with it. Full of exciting stories and ideas and imagination, ready to power everyone through the day. Instead, I’m The Mom who wakes up in fear, clueless, wondering What The Fuck. In general. I’m The Mom who likes her kids, a whole lot, but perhaps doesn’t always understand how to love them and how to enjoy them.

That sucks, because surely the kids deserve waaaayyyyyyy better than that.

Oddly, I will bust my ass trying to make sure they get the best of everything I can give them, but sometimes (often?) I fail. And then I’m back to wishing I was That Mom. Rather than being The Mom.

I suspect, as ever, I will approach the same way as usual. I’ll hope I’m doing the right things. I’ll hope I’m not being desperately shit. I’ll also hope I won’t have to resort to drinking at 3pm each day.

I’ll also make a better effort at being That Mom. I hope.

Smart Ass.

Ok, so, everyone has an intelligent kid. Everyone thinks their kid is super smart, maybe more so than other kids.

We all do it.

At some point.

The thing is, how in God’s name do you deal with it when, not only are they smart, but they know how to use their intelligence to argue a point? And make VALID arguments?

And even more so, how the HELL do you deal with it in the case of a 4 year old?

Noah is getting too smart, for me to handle. I know kids do the whole “why” thing, and want to know stuff. I have never known a kid do the “why” thing, want to know stuff, and then throw it back at you three weeks later when you thought the conversation was long gone.

It’s not big things. Not yet. Just little things. But he’s able to argue, and even though I have reasonable status in the Fine Art of Negotiation, he is able to negotiate around negotiating, and most usually, leaving myself and D asking “how the fuck did he even know half that stuff?”

I wouldn’t mind so much if we were teaching him to be so clued up. I don’t want a clued up kid! *flails and wrings hands* I don’t know how to handle a 4 year old who can hold a conversation like 14 year old!

Of course, it’s great that he’s a switched on as he is. It’s lovely! People talk to him and he holds a valid conversation, they ask me how old he is, I say “4 and a bit”, they look at me like I’m lying, wash, rinse, repeat.

It’s a laugh. Mostly.

But not when it bites you on the ass.

You know that whole “you are a child, and I am the adult, and you are supposed to do as I say because I am in charge” thing, usually reserved for a 6, maybe 7 year old? Yeah We’ve been having that conversation for a few months already. It’s very, very unsettling. I don’t like having that conversation. Because I’m pretty sure that, soon enough, he will therefore be able to argue his way around that too.

I HAVE NO IDEA HOW.

But he seems good at it so far.

(Make it stop. And/or send help.)

My style

GEEEEEEEZE there’s been so much happening lately. Work has kept me ticking over in just the perfect way. No, really; I have LOVED having things to do; it’s what I’ve needed for what feels like an eternity.

As I’m growing and developing my photography, I find myself trying to find a style. Not so much a “niche”, per se, but some form of processing or editing which suits me. I know how I like to shoot – pretty much “as it happens”, and if there’s opportunity and willingness, then some crazy mad shots which a) don’t interfere with the proceedings and b) continue to show a good reflection of who I’m shooting.

(It’s funny; as I’m writing this, I’m wondering if it should actually be on my JMP blog. S’ok though, in my true style I’m suspect I’ll drop an f-bomb or something, just to please the people who get fucked off by my swearing.)

(Oh look, there it was.)

I’ve got a ton of second shooting coming up over the next few months – I am SO EXCITED. This weekend alone I have 4 weddings where I’m working with more experienced photographers, and I’m hoping to learn a shit-load of stuff from them. Technical things, organisational things, managerial things…all kinds of stuff.

And yet, I find myself becoming wary of how I can make my style fit in with their style. All the while, asking, “What is my style, anyway?”

Honestly? I couldn’t tell you. Like I said, I prefer to shoot the day as it happens. I’d love to throw some super awesome posed shots in there, but I understand many of my clients don’t want this, and would prefer to just carry on with the day for whatever reason (usually, for being uncomfortable in front of the camera).

Maybe as I continue, as I grow braver learning new things, as I just continue to throw myself into situations where I have to photograph, have to process, have to edit, maybe, just maybe I’ll figure out where I’m going.

Figure out my style.

Yeah…that’d be nice…

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