When Your Passion Becomes Your Profession - Keith Broadbridge Photography
There is something quite special about having a hobby that you genuinely love which genuinely fills your cup.
For me, photography has always been much more than simply taking photographs. It has been a way of slowing down, getting outside, exploring places, noticing the small things and, perhaps most importantly, giving my mind somewhere else to go.
Photography has been my escape for so long.
Over time, that hobby began to grow. What started as something I did for enjoyment gradually became something I wanted to pursue more seriously. Then came exhibitions, commissions, workshops, clients, prints, editing, marketing, websites, social media and all the other things that come with trying to build a photography business.
And somewhere along the way, I discovered something I hadn't really considered when I started.
What happens when the thing that gave you an escape becomes part of your working life?
When photography stops being just for you
There is an enormous amount of enjoyment in picking up a camera simply because you want to.
You don't have to worry about whether the photograph will sell. You don't have to think about whether a client will like it. There is no deadline, no invoice, no social media post waiting to be created and no expectation that you need to produce something worthwhile.
You simply go.
You walk.
You look.
You make photographs.
That freedom is incredibly valuable.
Photography has given me a place to put my thoughts when life has felt difficult. It has allowed me to concentrate on light, composition, colour, texture and the landscape around me rather than whatever might be happening inside my head.
For someone who has experienced depression, that can be incredibly important.
There have been times when getting outside with a camera has made a genuine difference to my state of mind. It doesn't magically solve everything, of course, but it gives me something positive to focus on. It gets me moving. It encourages me to look for beauty when my mind isn't necessarily doing that on its own.
Sometimes the photograph isn't even the important part.
Sometimes it is simply about being there, going through to motion of capturing the world around me, as i see it at the time.
The strange problem of turning something you love into a job
The irony of making photography a profession is that the very thing that once provided freedom can start to come with responsibility.
Photography for a client is different from photography for myself.
A commissioned shoot has a purpose. A workshop has participants who are expecting something from me. A print needs to be edited, prepared and delivered. A website needs updating. Emails need answering. Social media needs content.
There are bills to pay and businesses to run.
And that's okay.
I genuinely love the professional side of photography too. Seeing someone connect with an image I've created is incredibly rewarding. Teaching people and watching them become more confident with their cameras is something I find enormously satisfying.
But there is another side to it.
When photography becomes your profession, you can sometimes find yourself photographing because you have to, rather than because you want to.
That distinction really matters.
Finding the space for personal photography
One of the biggest challenges I face now is finding time to photograph purely for myself.
There is family.
There are responsibilities outside of photography.
There is running a photography business.
There are clients, editing, administration, marketing, packing & shipping and everything else that comes with being self-employed.
And then there is the photography that doesn't have a purpose.
The photograph that isn't for a client.
The photograph that isn't going to Instagram.
The photograph that isn't going into an exhibition.
The photograph that may never be printed or seen by anyone else.
Just a photograph because I saw something that made me stop.
That kind of photography is extremely important to me.
Perhaps more important now than it has ever been.
Trying to fill the space
I have also had to think about what happens when something that once provided enjoyment and release changes.
When photography becomes work, you can't simply rely on it to fulfil every role it once did.
You need to find other ways to switch off.
Other ways to be creative.
Other places to find quiet.
And perhaps most importantly, you need to give yourself permission to photograph without an agenda.
I'm learning that personal photography doesn't have to be productive, or even that good!
It doesn't need to result in a sale.
It doesn't need to increase engagement.
It doesn't need to demonstrate a particular skill.
It can simply exist.
I can walk somewhere with a camera and photograph something because it speaks to me. I can revisit places I've photographed many times before. I can experiment. I can make photographs that might never leave my hard drive.
There is something liberating about remembering that photography doesn't always have to achieve something. I often find myself turning to film when i need to slow things down and just shoot for myself. There is no chimping, no trying to make the shot a little better. It's just shooting, for me.
Protecting the reason I started
I think this is probably the biggest lesson for me.
If I am going to continue doing photography professionally for many years, I need to protect the part of photography that made me fall in love with it in the first place.
That means making time for personal photography.
Not when everything else is finished.
Because, when you're self-employed, everything else is rarely finished. There is always something to be done.
There will always be another email.
Another photograph to edit.
Another workshop to organise.
Another piece of marketing to create.
Another job waiting.
If I keep waiting for a completely free day, I may never pick up the camera simply for myself.
So perhaps the answer is to deliberately create that space.
To treat personal photography as something important rather than something I will get around to when I have time.
Photography and mental health
I don't believe photography is a substitute for professional help when someone is experiencing depression or other mental health difficulties.
But I do believe creative pursuits can play an incredibly valuable role in helping us look after ourselves.
For me, photography encourages curiosity.
It makes me look, it makes me feel.
It gets me outside and around other people.
It gives me a reason to explore, it motivates me.
And sometimes, when my head is crowded, concentrating on something as simple as the way light falls across a landscape can give me a few moments of peace.
Those moments matter.
Perhaps that is why I don't want to lose the personal side of photography.
Because underneath the business, the workshops, the commissions, the editing and the marketing, there is still that person who simply enjoys seeing something beautiful and reaching for a camera.
I don't want to lose him.
Finding the balance
I don't think I've completely figured out the balance yet.
Perhaps nobody does.
Being self-employed means that the boundaries between work and life can become blurred very easily. Add family commitments and the desire to maintain a creative practice of your own, and finding time for everything can feel almost impossible.
But I'm beginning to understand that balance doesn't necessarily mean giving everything equal time, or trying to do everything all the time.
Sometimes it means recognising what you need to protect, what to invest in and when.
For me, that means protecting family time.
It means building a sustainable photography business.
But it also means protecting those moments when I can walk with a camera and have absolutely no reason for taking a photograph other than the fact that I want to.
Because photography may be my profession now.
But I still want it to be my escape.
I still want to look through the viewfinder and feel that sense of discovery.
And I still want to occasionally take a photograph that is just for me.
Perhaps that's the challenge of turning a passion into a profession.
Not learning how to make money from something you love.
But learning how to make a living from it without losing the reason you loved it in the first place.
There have been a few images over the journey which have really been at times where I was taking images just for me. Here are a few that I'd like to share with you.
love seeing your images :) particularly love the Yorke Peninsula one - Innes National Park? Keep up the good work, and yes, always make time for 'you' :)
I enjoyed this blog and, gotta say, I love these pics just as much, if not more, than some of your professional ones I've seen. Thanks for sharing them. These pics inspire me to keep taking photos just because it's fun taking photos! Being an Adelaide peep I love these pics even more as they are my daily sights captured so strikingly. Wishing you all the best in both your profession and your hobby.