Why Photographers Should Still Shoot Personal Work
A recent portrait photography session in downtown Sacramento reminded me why personal work matters. Personal projects allow photographers to experiment with lighting, gear, and creative ideas that often influence their professional portrait work.
Portrait Photography and Creative Growth in Sacramento
At the beginning of this year I spent some time reflecting on 2025 and asking a simple question: what work actually made me happy as a photographer?
Like most working photographers, a lot of my time is spent on assignments. Corporate headshots, editorial projects, marketing images, and portrait photography for clients. That work matters and it keeps the business moving forward. But when I looked back at the year, something interesting stood out.
Some of the photographs I felt the most connected to weren’t assignments at all.
They were the images I made simply because I wanted to make them.
Those shoots usually start with a simple idea: meet a friend downtown, try a lighting concept, experiment with a piece of gear I haven’t used in a while, or explore a location that looks interesting. There’s no client attached to it and no specific deliverable at the end of the day.
Ironically, those shoots often produce some of the most valuable work I make all year.
A Creative Reset for Photographers
When you photograph professionally long enough, it’s easy to fall into patterns. Certain lighting setups. Certain compositions. Certain ways of directing people in front of the camera.
Client work often rewards consistency.
Personal work gives you the freedom to break those patterns.
A recent portrait session with my friend Sam Altawil in downtown Sacramento reminded me why that freedom matters. Sam had just picked up a new tuxedo and we thought it would be fun to meet early in the morning and make some portraits around the city.
There was no assignment attached to the shoot. The goal was simply to see what we could create.
That freedom changes the way you approach photography. You notice light differently. You take more risks. You try ideas that might fail. And sometimes those ideas eventually find their way into your professional work.
Experimenting With Portrait Lighting
One of the things I wanted to explore during this shoot was working with a simple lighting setup and letting the environment play a role in shaping the portrait.
Downtown Sacramento is a great place for portrait photography because light reflects off glass, concrete, and nearby buildings. Those reflections create natural patterns of light and shadow that can dramatically change the mood of a photograph.
By combining a single strobe with the reflections already present in the environment, the lighting becomes more dynamic without needing a complicated setup.
Shoots like this are where you refine technique. You learn how light behaves in real environments. You see how subtle changes in position affect the mood of a photograph. And sometimes you rediscover gear or techniques you haven’t used in a while.
Those lessons almost always carry forward into future assignments.
Changing Up the Gear
For this shoot, most of the images were made using the Fujifilm GFX50S II paired with a 50mm lens.
The 50mm isn’t a lens I use all the time on that camera system, which made this the perfect opportunity to pull it back out and spend some time working with it again. Like most photographers, I tend to fall into habits with gear and reach for the same lenses repeatedly.
Personal projects are a great excuse to break those habits.
Working with a lens you don’t use every day forces you to think differently about composition, distance, and framing. It’s a small shift, but it often leads to new ideas or perspectives you might not have explored otherwise.
For lighting, I kept things simple and used a Godox AD600 Pro, which has been a rock-solid light for me for years. I’ve worked with a lot of different lighting systems over time, and the AD600 Pro has proven to be incredibly reliable on location.
The light was paired with a Phottix G-Capsule 85cm softbox, which provided a soft, controlled light source while still being compact enough to move quickly between locations.
That combination made it easy to work fast while still shaping the light in a way that complemented the architecture and natural reflections around us.
Another benefit of personal shoots like this is that they allow you to put your gear into situations you might not normally encounter on an assignment. That kind of experimentation keeps you comfortable and confident with your equipment.
Photography Is Also About People
There’s another benefit to personal projects that often gets overlooked.
They reconnect photography with people.
When photography becomes your profession, it can start to feel transactional. Clients, schedules, deliverables, timelines.
Personal shoots bring back the human side of the craft.
Meeting a friend early in the morning to make photographs feels very different from walking into a scheduled assignment. Conversations are relaxed. Ideas flow naturally. And sometimes the best images happen between poses rather than during them.
That kind of environment often produces portraits that feel more authentic.
Personal Work Often Becomes Your Best Work
Another interesting thing happens with personal photography projects.
Because they’re driven by curiosity instead of obligation, they often attract more attention.
Some of the images people comment on the most—whether online or in person—come from shoots that started as nothing more than experimentation. Other photographers notice the lighting. Clients notice the style. Models notice the energy of the images.
In many ways, personal work becomes the work that defines your voice as a photographer.
Moving Forward in 2026
One of the things I realized while reflecting on last year is that personal work shouldn’t be something you do only when you have spare time.
It should be part of the creative process.
Going into 2026 I’m making a point to schedule more of these shoots—meeting interesting people, exploring locations around Sacramento, and experimenting with portrait lighting and ideas.
Not because a client asked for it.
But because that’s often where the most rewarding photographs happen.
Great morning in downtown Sacramento making portraits with my friend Sam Altawil.Sam had just picked up a new tuxedo and it felt like the perfect excuse to head downtown and make a few images. We kept the lighting simple and just explored the city for a while seeing what we could create.
Shoots like this are always a good reminder of why I started photographing in the first place.
Good friends, good light, and a camera.
And in many cases, those personal projects end up shaping the way I approach portrait photography, lighting, and creative direction in my work as a Sacramento photographer.
Looking Back at 2025 . . . Finding Rhythm, Balance, and Purpose
2025 was a year of rhythm—refining executive portrait work, improving workflow, and staying grounded through meaningful personal projects that continue to shape how I approach photography.
As January comes to a close, it feels like the right time to pause and look back at 2025. It was a year filled with a wide range of projects, shifting environments, and steady growth—both professionally and personally.
From a work standpoint, executive and corporate portraits made up a significant portion of the year. While I’ve photographed people for decades, something about the rhythm of this work really settled in over the past year. Whether it was a single executive or a team of seventy, the process became more refined, more efficient, and more consistent.
One of the realities of corporate portrait photography is time. Sometimes you get to slow down, connect, and build rapport. Other times, you may have five minutes—or less—with each person. In one case this year, I photographed roughly seventy individuals in a single afternoon. Experiences like that don’t allow for hesitation. They require preparation, adaptability, and the confidence to execute under pressure.
That confidence comes from repetition. Years of working quickly, solving problems on the fly, and knowing my gear inside and out have made it possible to walk into almost any situation and deliver. One project in San Francisco summed that up well. I had planned for a large conference room and instead found myself working in a standard hotel room with low ceilings and tight space. With executives rotating through on a strict schedule, there was no margin for error. The lighting plan had to change, and it had to work immediately. It did.
While assistants are invaluable in many scenarios, I’ve also learned that my system is dialed in enough that, in some cases, working solo is actually more efficient. Setup and breakdown are faster, decisions are immediate, and the process stays streamlined.
What continues to draw me to portrait work is the interaction itself. Occasionally, that connection happens fast. Other times, it happens before the camera ever comes out. One client and I talked for nearly thirty minutes before taking the first photo. That wasn’t intentional—it just happened. But once the camera came up, the conversation continued. The result was a relaxed, natural session that felt less like a photoshoot and more like a dialogue. That comfort always shows in the final images.
From a technical standpoint, one of the biggest improvements in 2025 was workflow. Editing tools and smarter processes have significantly reduced turnaround time without sacrificing quality. Jobs that once took days now take a fraction of that time, which benefits both my clients and me. Efficiency matters, especially when handling high-volume corporate portrait sessions with tight deadlines.
On a more personal level, 2025 marked a significant shift in perspective. Being baptized Catholic and finding a stronger footing in my faith has influenced how I approach my work. It’s less about taking every project that comes along and more about asking whether the work aligns with my values. That clarity has made it easier to say no when something doesn’t feel right—and more confident saying yes when it does.
Balance was another theme this past year. While photography always carries a degree of uncertainty—doing everything “right” doesn’t guarantee the phone will ring—it’s a career that requires constant effort and resilience. Not everyone is built for that. I’m aware of the pressure that comes with it, especially when one successful year leads directly into the question of doing it all over again.
That’s where personal projects come in.
Some of the most meaningful work I did in 2025 wasn’t commercial at all. Spending a day embedded at Mahon Ranch, or documenting multiple days with my son’s ROTC unit in Wyoming, reminded me why I started photographing in the first place. Those projects allowed time—time to observe, to listen, and to understand the heartbeat of a place or a group of people. That kind of work pushes me creatively and keeps me grounded.
As I look ahead to 2026, I want to continue building on what worked: efficient, high-quality corporate and executive portraiture paired with intentional personal projects that challenge and inspire me. That combination is what keeps the work honest, sharp, and sustainable.
Thanks to everyone who trusted me with their image, their time, and their stories in 2025. I’m looking forward to what comes next.
From the Sidelines to the Sacraments: My Journey into the Catholic Church
And I thought: If this level of evil is real, then the opposite must also be real. There has to be a corresponding good. There has to be God.
I didn’t have a dramatic moment of conversion—no lightning bolt from the sky. My story isn’t flashy. But it is honest. And it’s been more than 56 years in the making.
Thank you to my friend and fellow photographer Richard Pochop for many of these images.
This past Easter, I was baptized and received my First Communion at St.Clare Parish in Roseville, CA. But the journey started long before that—in conversations, reflections, and small nudges that slowly pulled me from the sidelines and into something deeper, truer, and more alive than I ever expected.
Growing Up Without It
I wasn’t raised in a religious household. My parents occasionally went to church, but faith wasn’t central. I was never baptized as a child. My moral compass was shaped more by personal standards than spiritual ones. I didn’t drink or party—and I still haven’t been drunk to this day. A lot of my friends growing up were Mormon. I admired their values, and one of them—my friend Aaron—is still a close friend. But faith wasn’t a part of my life.
It wasn’t that I didn’t believe. I just never connected with it. No one ever presented it in a way that clicked for me. Looking back, I wonder if my learning challenges—particularly dyslexia—played a role in that. Reading was always mechanical. Comprehension was hard-earned.
Amy’s Steady Witness
One of the biggest influences in my journey was right beside me the whole time—my wife, Amy.
She never pushed. She lived her faith quietly and consistently. She took our kids to church week after week. I stayed home and watched football. I helped the church with photography when asked, and I enjoyed the community—but I never felt like I was part of it.
Amy, however, was always open. She has an incredible depth of knowledge about the Church, and she delivers it with clarity and patience. I could ask her anything—no judgment, no agenda. That became a huge source of support as I slowly began asking more questions and taking faith more seriously.
A Shift in Perspective
One of the moments that opened the door came while I was driving a rental car on a trip to Atlanta. Alone with my thoughts, I found myself reflecting on the sheer amount of evil in the world—especially what we see online and through social media. The way children are harmed, how truth and dignity are undermined, the dark symbolism some of the cultural elite embrace… it struck me.
And I thought: If this level of evil is real, then the opposite must also be real. There has to be a corresponding good. There has to be God.
That simple logic hit hard.
Soon after, I came across Fr. Dan Reehil, a Catholic priest and exorcist who talks openly about evil and spiritual warfare. His practical, unfiltered explanations of the faith made sense to me. He also spoke about Mary—specifically the mutual pain of Christ on the Cross and His mother watching in agony. That reflection stopped me in my tracks. The shared suffering between Jesus and Mary became a turning point in how I saw both of them.
A Growing Devotion to Mary
That insight led to something else I didn’t expect: a growing devotion to Mary.
I never had a strong connection to her before, but the more I learned, the more I came to admire her courage, sorrow, and strength. She didn’t just say “yes” to God once—she stayed present, even in unimaginable pain. She stood at the foot of the Cross and never turned away. That kind of strength speaks deeply to me. I know her guidance will play a large role in my life moving forward.
Learning to Pray
Prayer didn’t come easily. I didn’t grow up doing it, and hearing my own voice in prayer felt uncomfortable. But I kept showing up. Now, Amy and I pray together every night. I’m learning to talk to Jesus like a friend and confidant. It’s still a work in progress, but the relationship is building.
The Rosary has also become meaningful to me. I haven’t made it a daily habit yet, but I’m getting there. Like anything, it takes repetition and intention. The same goes for confession—I haven’t made my first one yet, but I’m looking forward to it. The idea that baptism washed away my past sins is still hard to fully grasp. There’s a lot in my past I’m not proud of. But knowing those sins are gone—that’s humbling and liberating.
Overcoming Challenges with Technology
Because of my dyslexia, reading has always been a challenge. I moved to a large-print Bible and then to a digital one on my iPad, which helped tremendously. I also used ChatGPT to take notes and summarize what I was learning. It became a study partner—something that helped me keep up and truly engage with the material. I may have been the only one in class using those tools, but they made the difference for me. I wasn’t just going through the motions—I was learning.
A Good Head Coach at the Right Time
St. Clare Church in Roseville became my spiritual home. The pastor, Father George Snyder, played a major role in why I decided to go through with baptism when I did—and where I did.
Before I even knew him well, he had already entered our family’s story—he gave my father-in-law Last Rites during COVID, when few could even get into hospitals. That moment left a mark.
But beyond that, Father George has something unique. He has what I call the “X factor.” He doesn’t just preach—he teaches. His homilies are rich with insight, and his passion for the faith, the saints, and the Church’s history (especially as the keeper of relics for the diocese) is contagious.
To use a sports analogy: sometimes, you just need the right coach to get you off the bench. Father George was that coach for me. He got me in the game. And now that I understand how it’s played, I feel like I can step onto any field and hold my own.
That’s not to take anything away from my years at Saints Peter and Paul. I spent many Easters photographing the Vigil there, and I even had the honor of photographing a priest’s first Mass. That church holds a special place in my heart, and always will. One of the people I worked closely with there was Michelle, who coordinated many of the events I photographed. Her dedication, kindness, and organization made every project smooth and welcoming. Even though I wasn’t a committed member of the Catholic faith at the time, those experiences—thanks to people like Michelle—helped me grow in respect for the Church and its people. In hindsight, they were part of what eventually led me to where I am today.
But sometimes you need a different coach-player combination to unlock your potential. That’s what happened at St. Clare.
Surrounded by Faith
I didn’t walk this journey alone. My brother-in-law Michael acted as my sponsor, and I’m incredibly thankful for his steady support. Like Amy, he’s deeply knowledgeable and always open to discussion. I felt totally comfortable asking him anything.
For my godparents, I chose my oldest daughter, Victoria, and my oldest son, Ethan. I know that might seem unusual, but to me, it made perfect sense. Their faith and character are strong, and having them stand beside me during baptism made it feel like a true family milestone.
From Inspiration to Action: A Media Ministry
All of this has led to something bigger—something I never would’ve imagined a few years ago: the beginning of a media ministry.
I’ve worked in photography and videography for years. It’s what I do. But now, I see an opportunity to use those skills for something more eternal. The Church has incredible stories to tell, and many of our parishes aren’t using media to its full potential. I want to change that.
One experience that stands out is my time volunteering with the National Eucharistic Pilgrimage at the end of last year. It wasn’t just a photography assignment—it was a spiritual deepening. I documented the pilgrims’ journey, capturing moments of reverence and joy, and even collaborating with my wife on lighting for some of the images. That experience gave me a profound respect for the dedication of the faithful—and for the power of images to tell a story that words can’t always capture.
I want to bring that same energy to local parishes and beyond, capturing the energy and wisdom of people like Father George, the beauty of our liturgies, and the power of faith-filled lives. If my work can help others see what I’ve come to see—even just a glimpse—it will be worth every minute.
Stepping Fully In
This journey has given me peace I didn’t know I was missing. It’s not that everything is figured out—I still have a long way to go. But I’ve stepped off the sidelines. I’ve been baptized, I’ve received the sacraments, and I’m in the game now.
This isn’t just belief. It’s life. And I’m all in.