I was recently talking with a friend of mine who is an absolutely incredible salesperson. You can walk into his studio to bring him a cup of coffee, and within five minutes you’ll probably be discussing whether you need a painting or a sculpture. He is good at art, and he is good at selling his art.

And it got me thinking about how often photographers say, “I’m terrible at sales.” But like my friend, maybe we aren’t that bad. Maybe we’ve simply been thinking about the wrong kind of sales.

In this week’s podcast, episode 598, we’ll discuss the right way to think about sales and a sales pitch. Because every time we make a photograph, we are actually making a sales pitch. We are assessing whether what we are seeing, editing, processing, sharing, and printing is worth the cost. In this case, I think cost is equal to attention.
I know that some of you think the word sales is bad, and sales is one of those words that makes a lot of photographers uncomfortable. We often say we aren’t good at selling our work, talking about our photographs, or sharing what we create.

But here’s the thing: photographers are making sales pitches all the time.
We’re just usually selling the photograph to ourselves.

When you’re walking around with your camera, and something catches your attention, you begin a conversation with yourself: There’s something here. You look at the light, color, composition, moment or whatever. You move around. You might change lenses or wait and convince yourself that it is time to press the button.

That’s your first sales pitch to yourself. You sold the making of the photograph.

The second time you make a sales pitch to yourself is when you edit. Out of hundreds of photographs, how do we decide which ones deserve our time and attention? We’re asking again: Is this photograph worth working on? Is there something I can develop here? Again, making the sales pitch.

Now, I am not saying that we always get our sales pitches right. I mean, if you are like me, you have fallen for some bad sales pitches and bought some bad stuff over the years. The photos are no different, but rather than saying I was suckered on a bad deal, I call it useful feedback. 😀

The same thing happens when we share our work. WE are making the pitch again. This time we might consider an external audience, but we have to remember there’s a big difference between “I believe in this photograph, therefore I want to share it” and “People liked this photograph, therefore it must be good.” The first begins with our own conviction. The second gives that conviction to somebody else.

Printing takes the idea even further. When I commit a photograph to paper, I’m saying I believe enough in it to invest my time and materials.
The cost goes up. I have to really do a sales job when I am printing work to have it, or to sell it; the story, value proposition, evidence all have to point to something good, or I end up with a Midnight Home Shopping Network binge buy of a photo on my wall.

Ultimately, we’re not really selling photographs. We’re selling ourselves to our work. We’re deciding what is worth noticing, photographing, selecting, editing, processing, sharing, and printing. The goal isn’t to know which photographs are objectively good. It’s to become better at recognizing which photographs we believe in and when we push our creativity with a hard sell.

Thanks for listening, and I’ll see you in the next episode.

This week we dig into part two of our mini-series with a focus (pun intended) on attention. As photographers, we often find ourselves debating what essential gear we need in our camera bags. Is it the camera itself? A favorite lens? A sturdy tripod? While all of these pieces of equipment hold their own value, I would answer that way myself. In reality, I think one of the most important tools is our attention. Understanding this concept can explain not only your photography but also the way you experience everyday life.

Have you ever noticed that you don’t photograph things that don’t catch your attention? Your photographs are essentially a record of what captures your attention. So, I ask you: what do your portfolio/images say about what you pay attention to? After all, we don’t often point our cameras at things that don’t interest us. But in that catch of attention comes the other side of the coin: the things we don’t notice. I feel that many times the things that we notice become more habit than anything else, and that for us to become better at our craft, we have to learn to shift our attention to the things we might not notice. Shadows over light, color shifts, texture shifts or whatever might be “outside” your comfort zone.

In today’s world, our attention is constantly being divided. Phones and social media are a big part. Just yesterday on a walk with the dog, we almost got bumped into a half-dozen or so times by people just walking and looking at their phones. It’s no wonder that focusing has become a challenge. However, photography offers us an incredible opportunity to reclaim that attention. By practicing mindfulness, we can sharpen our focus and enhance our craft. Think about the difference between actively searching for photographs versus patiently waiting for them to reveal themselves. Often, when we search too hard, we overlook the moment right in front of us.

Revealing is also something that happens in processing and viewing photographs. We start to see deeper layers of content and meaning in the work by shifting our attention to what is there, what we can see, what we can learn and away from what we “already” know.

It’s important to remember that a camera is just a tool. It records images but doesn’t have the capacity to notice. That’swhere we come in. It’s our role to see relationships, light, emotion, timing, and storytelling within a scene. Photography is more than just a means to capture images; it’s about becoming someone who truly notices the world around them. The more we practice attention, the richer our experience of life becomes. Consider the beauty of morning light streaming through your kitchen window or the soothing rhythm of rain tapping against your roof. What about the fleeting expressions people make when they think no one is watching? These small moments, often overlooked, become treasures when we allow ourselves to see truly and then photograph.

If your camera were to disappear tomorrow, would you still observe the world the same way? The essence of photography begins long before the shutter clicks. It starts with simply paying attention. We don’t photograph everything we see; we capture what we consciously choose to notice. The most important lesson photography teaches us isn’t merely how to snap better pictures—it’s about how to observe the world around us with greater awareness.

Attention isn’t just a skill for photographers; it’s a way of living.