photography

How to (Maybe) Make Money Selling Photos

Make Money Selling Your Photos

Here’s the deal: money shouldn’t be the main reason you make photos. The reality is, you probably won’t make very much.

But it is possible to make some gas money selling your photos online. Take this old chestnut:

  1. Make photos
  2. Post them online for sale
  3. ???
  4. Profit!

Step three is the tricky one. Here’s what I’ve found in the few short years I’ve had an online store.

For one, don’t expect any sales. Start there. No one will buy your photos.

Good?

Okay, accepting that, keep doing what you’re doing: Instagramming, sharing your photos on social media, giving prints away to friends and family, and keep shooting.

Then, when someone asks, “Hey, do you sell your stuff? Can I get a copy of this-or-that photograph?” you say, “Sure do!” And send them a link to your store, with a link to the photo they’re looking to buy.

Boom. There’s your profit. And be grateful for it.

You may get a few sales through searches or people stumbling on your stuff. But that’s what all those question marks in step three are: dumb luck.

It’s different if you attend art shows, or do wedding photography, or shoot on commission. Those all involve hustle, investment, and time. If photography isn’t your main gig, it’s more difficult to make a buck.

I have a few sales here and there every month or two, and then it’s only a few bucks – enough for a coffee. If that’s as ambitious as you get, you probably won’t be disappointed.

Me? I put almost every dollar I make from photography—online sales, wedding gigs, etc—right back into my hobby. Because I’m not doing this stuff for money, I’m doing it for fun.

Make the photos you want to make. Post them online for people to buy. And when people do want to buy your photos, make it easy for them. One, two, three.

I can’t think of a better, less sleazy, way to do it than that.

, , , ,

Marketing, Not Photography

Setting Up A Photography Store

Brooks Jensen on LensWork Podcast ep. 948:

The minute people starting thinking about money—about selling their art work and marketing, etc.—the art of photography was diminished.

Jensen says his wife enjoys gardening, but doesn’t expect to be paid for planting something in her own yard.

So maybe the switch between “I make photos for art/fun/etc.” to “I make photos for money” is what makes so many people take the same kinds of photos.

It’s marketing, not photography.

 

, , , , ,

Why Buy Photographs

Why Buy Photographs?

We are, each of us, dripping wet with photographs. Culturally speaking, we are drowning in them.

Limited Editions are a Useless Floodgate: the ocean of images cannot be tamed. — infinite industries — Medium

So why buy photographs?

“Value is not held within the [physical] object,” Travis Shaffer writes. “Rather, it is the opportunity to stand before the work which we desire.”

Which is exactly why I’m a small-time collector of the photographs I enjoy. The idea of (a) supporting emerging artists and (b) collecting appealing work is reason enough to spend a little money of not-so-limited prints.

I don’t do it because it’s a potential investment. And I surely don’t do it to be Mr. Art Collector Guy.

I do it because I want it hanging on my wall.

, , , , ,

Making Up Limitations

Making Up Limitations

Craft inhabits whatever medium or tool you work with, if you let it.

I revisit Craig Mod’s articles every once in a while, just to feel what he’s feeling at these times of digital/analog transition.

The above, from 2014, recall Mod’s thoughts about how mobile phone photography – always connected, quality digital files, the idea of a singular photograph changing – was growing into its own.

With everything set to automatic, where was the craft in an iPhone photo?

Mod’s point: It’s all in the restrictions you put on yourself.

It’s one reason why I love using a 10 year old digital camera to make most of my images. Almost nothing is automatic, there’s no video setting, and only 12 megapixels. Every day is a limitation.

But even with cameras with auto HDR and leveling and intervalometers and all that, you can make using your camera feel like driving a manual transmission car if you still want that experience.

Turn the display off. Turn auto everything off. Set your aperture, shutter speed, and ISO on manual. Don’t use built-in filters (or do, and treat it like film stock). Etc.

Cameras these days have few limitations. So make up some, and start a new project.

Until They Start to Care

Ann Arbor, Michigan

People don’t take the time to read, says Steven Pressfield, via Dave Trott:

Nor does anybody care about your one-act play, your Facebook page or your new sesame chicken joint at Canal and Tchoupitoulas. It isn’t that people are mean or cruel.They’re just busy. When you understand that nobody wants to read your shit, your mind becomes powerfully concentrated.

Think about that. All the hard work we put into creative projects, or blog entries, or advertising campaigns – nobody really cares. They have better things to do.

Until they do start to care. But that’s only a fraction.

I try to bring this viewpoint to my job. We fret over the little things, and we polish the text to a buffed shine. Luckily, Ann Arbor (a true college town) is more literate than most cities. Still, at the root, nobody cares.

So give them a reason to.

Or: set your expectations accordingly. If no one cares what you do, doesn’t that give you some freedom to do what you want to do?

, , , , , ,

The Art Life

The Art Life

Photography itself is its own reward…The art life is a privilege we should be willing to pay for.

In other words, don’t do it for the money, says Brooks Jensen, or for fame. There are plenty of other reasons to do your thing.

In Jensen’s list, most of the reasons are internal, as it should be.

For me, it’s good enough to be a hobby. Like many hobbies—car repair, painting, collecting shot glasses, playing flamenco guitar, film history—it’s not cheap. And that’s okay.

I play guitar because I love music, and because it’s relaxing, not because I’ll be in the Rolling Stones.

I play with a camera for the exact same reasons.

[via CJ Chilvers]

, , , ,

On Ornery Artists

On Ornery Artists

There’s something noble about being the “ornery artist.” The one who switches it up when he or she shouldn’t. The one who you can’t pin down. The one who avoids fame and publicity.

As I walked around the Ann Arbor Art Fair on Thursday, especially looking at the photography booths, I couldn’t help but notice how similar they all were: landscapes, sunsets, flowers, bodies of water, animals, HDR (blah!).

Art fair artists are there to sell things, I get it. It’s hard to be ornery and sell in mass quantities.

For me, it’s more fun to root for the curmudgeon.

, , , , ,

Three Things

Three Things

Doesn’t get much more simple than this:

Wanna be a better photographer? The simple answer is: shoot every single day, study the work of other photographers, and try your darndest to find something new to say in your work.

Bingo.

I struggle with that first bit the most. It’s so hard to get out and shoot on a regular basis.

And “study the work,” not “mindlessly consume and copy.” Get the difference?

That advice appeals to the academic in me. Seeing the world as the “great” photographers saw it is a quick to realize how much farther I have to go, and what I do and don’t enjoy.

The part that surprised me was the question about clichés. Most of the photography editors said there’s no such thing.

So much good stuff throughout this roundup.

Eric Kim: “To find your style in photography is to find who you are as a human being. What interests you in life?”

Laura Austin: “Style is about authenticity.”

Eric Anderson: “Finding your style comes with a lot of practice and being true to yourself.”

, , , , ,

Welcome to Art Fair

Every year, during the hottest week of the summer, Ann Arbor puts on a giant art fair, shutting down streets downtown and welcoming thousands of people over four days.

I’ve been to Art Fair several times, but this is my first time working on campus during the event. As the artists set up their booths, I walked around town grabbing some of the behind-the-scenes shots.

It’s fun, seeing the event before the event starts. A lot of the art was already on display, but many artists didn’t have their tent up yet, and their wares were sprawled out on the University of Michigan lawn, waiting for hanging.

There were these weird juxtapositions, like fake cactus and palm trees baking in the Midwestern sun, or giant metal sculptures just hanging out on University Ave. And hot. Everything was hot.

Should be a fun couple of days, trying to get into work.

For a few minutes yesterday, though, the setup gave me a great chance to wander around and see what I could see.

A suggestion: If you find an artist you like at one of these art fairs, a good way to support them is to buy a small print or notecard, especially if you can’t afford one of their bigger prints. I found one from photographer Amber Tyrrell that I really liked, so I bought a notecard from her. Three bucks and some change is an easy vote of confidence.

Any little bit of support helps the artists, helps the arts economy, and makes the whole humid thing seem worth it.

, , , , , , ,

«< 49 50 51 52 53 >»