The other day I was doing what millions of us do when we should probably be doing something more productive—I was scrolling through Pinterest. Every once in a while, a quote jumps out at me, but most of them are forgotten before I reach the next pin. This one was different. It simply said,

“It’s not about being good at creativity. It’s about creativity being good for you.”

I stopped scrolling and read it again. Then I read it a third time. The funny thing was, it wasn’t telling me something I didn’t already know. It was putting words to something I’d been living for years without ever realizing it.

If you had asked me twenty years ago why I loved photography, I probably would have given you a very practical answer. I enjoy beautiful landscapes. I like learning the technical side of cameras. I love the challenge of being in the right place at the right time. Eventually it became my business, so of course that became part of the answer too. Over the years I’ve sold stock photographs around the world, watched people buy prints of incredible landscapes for their homes, taken beautiful images of new families starting their lives, and now I spend part of my time teaching beginners how to understand the cameras sitting in their closets. Those are all perfectly good reasons to love photography.

But the older I get, the more I realize they were never the whole story.

Photography has quietly been taking care of me for a very long time.

I didn’t really understand that until I looked back over my life. There have been incredible adventures—years of traveling the country with my husband in our RV, standing on mountain overlooks before sunrise, wandering lonely beaches, and discovering little country roads that most people drive right past. Those memories are precious to me, but they’re only part of the story. The deeper truth is that photography has been shaping the way I experience life itself.

Several years ago, I became critically ill with sepsis. It nearly killed me. What followed was open-heart surgery and a long road back to feeling like myself again. Anyone who has lived through a serious illness knows that healing isn’t just about your body. Your confidence takes a hit. Your energy disappears. Even your identity feels uncertain for a while. You begin wondering if you’ll ever be the person you used to be.

Looking back now, I don’t think my camera healed me.

I think it helped me find my way back to myself.

In fact, while I was laying in my hospital bed, scared shitless at my impending open heart surgery, I told my husband to bring me my camera. And I took that camera out to the front of the hospital and took pictures of all the flowers in the containers all over the place by the entrance to the hospital. Are they great pictures – HELL NO! Do I care – nope! They were my therapy at a time when my mind just needed to reset – and it worked. It calmed me down for that short time that I was outside taking photos – my brain shut off for a short while, which was a very good thing at the time, because when I tell you I was TERRIFIED, I’m not kidding. I. was. terrified.

These 2 images are a couple of the ones I took that day. They’re not great, but they’re great to me!

During my recovery, there were days when I didn’t have much energy, but I could manage a slow walk if I had my camera around my neck. Suddenly I had a reason to get outside. I had a reason to pay attention. Instead of thinking about doctor’s appointments or medications or everything my body couldn’t do, I found myself watching the light filtering through the trees or waiting for a bird to land on a nearby branch. My problems didn’t disappear, but for an hour or two they stopped being the only thing I could see. My old, dear friend Teri (Hi Teri) drove out from Colorado a month after my surgery, put me in her car, and off we went on photography adventures for a whole week. The Blue Ridge Parkway, The Smoky Mountains, Babcock State Park in West Virginia. It was all my therapy playground for me, my camera, and my old friend. Thank God for those precious days.

All of these images and many more were taken during that week with Teri. It was so healing…

That became a pattern in my life, and I don’t think I appreciated it until recently. Whenever life feels heavy, my first instinct is often to stay home. Isn’t that funny? The very thing that helps me the most is usually the thing I least feel like doing. But almost every time I force myself to grab my camera and head out the door, something changes.

The world slows down. The pain stops. The brain redirects itself away from all the bad stuff to concentrate on the camera.

When you’re looking for photographs, you can’t rush through life. You notice the way the evening sun catches the edge of a cloud. You stop to admire wildflowers growing in a ditch that hundreds of cars have driven past without a second glance. You hear birds you never would have noticed if you had been staring at your phone. You begin paying attention to little details that have been there all along, patiently waiting for someone to notice them.

I’ve often said that photography teaches us to see, but I don’t think I fully understood what that meant.

It teaches us to see beauty where we once saw ordinary.

It teaches us to see possibilities where we once saw inconveniences.

Sometimes it even teaches us to see hope when life has convinced us there isn’t much to be found.

One of the greatest gifts our years of RV travel gave me wasn’t a collection of photographs from famous places. Yes, I have wonderful images from the Smoky Mountains, the deserts of the Southwest, and beaches all over the country. I’m grateful for every one of them. But when I think back on those years, the photographs aren’t the first things that come to mind.

I remember sitting outside our campsite with a cup of tea before anyone else was awake. I remember our Huskies exploring every new campground as if it were the greatest adventure of their lives. I remember laughing with my husband because we had taken a wrong turn and accidentally discovered a place we never would have found otherwise. I remember standing in absolute silence while morning fog drifted through a valley, not saying a word because neither of us wanted to disturb the moment.

The camera was there for all of it.

But the camera wasn’t the reason those moments mattered.

The camera simply taught me to notice that they were happening.

That’s why I smile whenever someone tells me they’re “not really a photographer” because they’re still shooting in Auto mode or because they don’t own an expensive camera. I understand the feeling. We’ve all compared ourselves to people whose work seems impossibly good. We’ve all wondered if we’re talented enough.

But maybe we’re asking the wrong question.

Maybe the question isn’t whether you’re good at photography.

Maybe the better question is this:

Is photography good for you?

Does it get you outside more often?

Does it help you notice the seasons changing?

Does it quiet your mind for a little while?

Does it make you curious? Peaceful? Grateful?

Does it remind you that there is still beauty in the world, even on days when beauty feels hard to find?

If the answer is yes, then I’d say photography is already giving you something far more valuable than perfectly exposed images.

Don’t misunderstand me. I still love creating photographs that sell. Every stock download makes me smile. Every print hanging on someone’s wall is an incredible privilege. I love teaching beginners because I genuinely enjoy watching that lightbulb come on when camera settings finally make sense. None of that has changed.

What has changed is my understanding of why I keep picking up my camera.

I don’t do it because I need another photograph.

I do it because I like the person I become when I’m looking for one.

So if you’ve been waiting until you’re “good enough” to call yourself a photographer, stop waiting. Take your camera for a walk this afternoon. Photograph your backyard, your neighborhood, an old barn down the road, or the sunset you’ve seen a hundred times before. Go to THIS POST and do my “Week of Beginner Photography Assignments”. Don’t worry about whether the images are worthy of Instagram or whether they’ll ever sell. Just give yourself permission to slow down and notice the world for an hour.

You may come home with a wonderful photograph.

Or you may come home with something even better.

A quieter mind.

A grateful heart.

A little more peace than you had when you left.

I’ve created free guides and beginner-friendly photography resources because I want more people to experience that feeling. Learning your camera is important, and I love helping people do exactly that. But if you’ve read this far, you’ve probably figured out that teaching camera settings has never really been my end goal.

My real hope is much simpler.

I hope photography becomes as good for you as it has been for me.

This week I found myself tent camping in Cades Cove Campground in Smoky Mountains National Park with my very dear photographer friend Dolora. Yep, two old ladies setting up and camping in a tent – what a sight! And wouldn’t ya know it – it rained ALL NIGHT LONG. And Dolora failed to inform me that her tent was 20 years old and was no longer waterproof! But that’s a story for another day – suffice it to say WE GOT SOAKED. But we toughed it out all night long in that tent!

See the water droplets coming down the walls? And on my pillow?

The Smoky Mountains were murky to say the least!

The purpose of our camping trip was to be able to go around the Cades Cove Loop Road over and over and over again, looking for bears and other wildlife. And then once it got dark, we were going to go photograph star trails and The Milky Way. Guess what? – when it’s pouring rain there are no stars to trail! There is no Milky Way! And all the animals go hide in the deep forest where they might stay dry! We had a lot of laughs, but not a lot of photographs! (I’m a poet and I don’t even know it LOL).

One of the biggest struggles new photographers face isn’t camera settings. It’s not aperture, shutter speed, or ISO. It’s not even figuring out what all those mysterious buttons on the camera do. The biggest struggle is often much simpler:

“I don’t know what to photograph.” Yup, been there done that recently!! VERY recently!!

I’ve heard it hundreds of times over the years. A new photographer buys a camera, watches a few YouTube videos, learns a little about the exposure triangle, and then sits staring out the window wondering what to do next. The camera ends up back in the bag. A week later, they feel guilty because they spent good money on something they’re not using.

Sound familiar?

Here’s the good news: becoming a better photographer doesn’t require exotic locations, expensive trips, or dramatic sunsets. Or even rainy nights spent in a leaky tent. What you need is practice. Not random practice. Intentional practice.

So I put together a simple week of beginner photography assignments. These are designed to help you learn to see photographs everywhere around you. No travel required. No special equipment required. No pressure to create masterpieces. Just seven days of learning.

Day 1: Find Three Different Colors

Today’s assignment is simple. Pick three colors and photograph them. Maybe it’s a red flower, a blue coffee mug, and a yellow raincoat hanging in the closet. The goal isn’t to create award-winning images. The goal is to train your eye to notice color.

One thing you’ll discover as a photographer is that ordinary objects become much more interesting when you start paying attention to light, shape, and color. The camera is teaching you to see.

Day 2: Photograph Something You Use Every Day

Choose an everyday object. Your favorite coffee cup. Your reading glasses. A gardening tool. The leash hanging by the door. Now photograph it as if you were creating an advertisement for it.

Move around it. Try different angles. Get close. Get lower. Get higher. Most beginners take one photo and move on. Good photographers explore.

Day 3: Look for Light

Today, ignore the subject. Instead, look for light.

Find sunlight streaming through a window. Watch how evening light falls across your kitchen table. Notice shadows on a wall.

Photographers aren’t really photographing objects. We’re photographing light. The sooner you understand that, the faster your photography will improve.

Day 4: Get Close

Really close.

Most beginners stand too far away from everything. Today, fill the frame. Photograph the texture of tree bark, the petals of a flower, the details on a leaf, or the whiskers on your dog.

You don’t always need a grand landscape to make an interesting photograph. Sometimes the details tell the story.

Day 5: Photograph Something That Makes You Smile

This is my favorite assignment.

Forget the rules for a day. Photograph something that genuinely makes you happy. Maybe it’s your husband working in the garage. Your grandchild playing outside. A sleeping dog. A favorite chair where you drink coffee every morning.

Photography isn’t just about making pretty pictures. It’s about preserving pieces of your life. Years from now, these photographs may matter more than you realize.

Day 6: Tell a Story with Three Photos

Choose a simple activity and photograph it in three steps. Making coffee. Watering flowers. Walking the dog. Baking cookies.

Take a beginning photo, a middle photo, and an ending photo.

Congratulations. You’re now learning visual storytelling. This is one of the skills that separates snapshots from photographs that connect emotionally.

Day 7: Photograph the Same Subject Five Different Ways

Pick one subject. Just one.

Now create five completely different photographs of it. Change your angle. Change your distance. Change your composition. Change your perspective.

You’ll quickly discover that photography is less about the subject and more about how you choose to see it.

The Real Goal

At the end of this week, don’t worry about whether your photographs are good. Seriously. Don’t judge them. Don’t compare them to photographers who have been shooting for twenty years.

The goal isn’t perfection. The goal is practice. The goal is building the habit of picking up your camera. The goal is training your eyes to notice things you’ve walked past a thousand times.

Every photographer starts exactly where you are right now—confused, uncertain, and wondering if they’re doing it right. The photographers who improve aren’t necessarily the most talented. They’re simply the ones who keep showing up.

So grab your camera tomorrow. Start with Day 1.

And remember: the best photograph you’ll ever take is often the one that convinces you to keep going.

From the same Utah trip, but another day. Teri and I were in the cute town of Torrey, Utah, so we gave ourselves
an assignment to only photograph “Americana” type photos that day. This was one of mine.

Another image from our “Americana” day. An old red pickup truck, American flags billowing in the breeze,
and the small town General Store in the background. It doesn’t get any more “Americana” than that!

The moral of the story is this: Give yourself assignments! It’s a great way to learn your camera, learn to see compositions and learn to see light.

If you’re confused on where to start and how to use your camera, and what is an f-stop? And what is this aperture thing anyways? I’ve got you covered! I’ve written a handy little e-book all about learning to use your camera. And it comes with a FREE Exposure Triangle Cheat Sheet that you can print out and refer to while you’re out doing your assignments from this blog post!

So go HERE and grab your Photographer’s Cheat Sheet!

HAPPY SHOOTING MY FRIENDS!!!