As a photographer, I’ve learned one universal truth: everything small eventually becomes bigger, fluffier, moodier, louder, faster, or—to put it kindly—simply MORE.
If you don’t capture the milestones along the way, you might wake up one day wondering if the creature who stands defiantly in front of you really is the sweet little baby/kitten/puppy/foal you once fawned over to anyone who would listen

Families are a special kind of photo session.
You’ve got one kid eating grass, while another whacks him with a pool noodle and yet another is intent on picking his nose and examining the contents; and there are the parents smiling through the stress in an “isn’t this fun!” kind of way while I try to organise them into some sort of group, but Grandma keeps wandering off and Dad’s blinking in every single frame.

At the urging of the fab marketing course I am now doing, I went to work and not only ‘defined my area of expertise’, but found someone to declare it to.

"I shoot people and pets" I told the first person I saw this morning, who happened to be our Postie.

This was met with stony silence.

I probably should work a little more on defining my area of expertise…

Welcome to my outdoor studio. It’s outdoors because I don’t have an indoors – yet.
Besides, outdoors is my natural habitat…
 Birds singing, sunlight glowing, and a gentle breeze fluttering my subject’s hair like a shampoo commercial…

Not having a lot going on at the moment, I decide on a photoshoot of my horses to allow people to see what I could do with their horses.
Everyone will want portraits like these, I think smugly to myself.
Horses. None more noble, elegant, photogenic—at least according to every calendar, luxury brand ad, and Instagram account run by people who clearly have never met my horses.

At first, writing a mission statement sounds easy. “Just a few lines about my business,” I thought, sipping at my coffee like a polite camel at a dinner party.

Self-Portraits Become a Horror Series

I thought, “I’ll take a few sick-day self-portraits, raw and artistic, show my humanity.” The result? A collection of images where I look like Gollum auditioning for a drug commercial.

Pulitzer Prize material. I'm featuring them here, you be the judge.

I am starting to wonder—are people even seeing adverts anymore? Or do we all scroll past them like we dodge eye contact with that overly enthusiastic car window washer guy at the red light?

Here’s the truth that is finally dawning on me: Facebook ads are like throwing a flyer into a hurricane. Sure, it’s out there. But has it landed yet? Probably not.

So here I am, a photographer with a brilliant Facebook ad… invisible to the world.

I’m all about including your special little (or big) person or pet or even project in your photoshoot.

Let’s face it, they say so much about you. They do.

Seriously, how do you think I know so much about you?

Bonus Tip: Outsource if All Else Fails
Worst-case scenario? Grab a glass, pour yourself some eggnog, and slap a stock photo of Santa surfing on your card. Sign it “Love, The Smiths.” Nobody will question it.

Okay, fine. Yes, I grumble. I roll my eyes. I come home covered in dirt, stickers, and mysterious goo.

But then I look at the images. And Holy crap if they aren’t adorable. There’s something magical about capturing those fleeting moments of childhood—pure joy, wild imagination, and faces smeared with popsicle.

If you've never tried to photograph a precious pooch during a full-blown case of the zoomies, imagine trying to take a passport photo of a caffeinated tornado.

So do your cat a favour.
Do yourself a favour.
Book the shoot.
Get the photos.
Share them with (the) pride.

Because let’s face it — your cat was always the main character anyway.