"First say to yourself what you would be; and then do what you have to do." –Epictetus

Last week I talked about inspiration and provided a long list of quotes. The quote above from Epictetus inspired me immediately. As soon as I read it, I felt like saying, "Thanks for the affirmation." To be honest, I stopped writing that post and wrote this one, on the spot, because I was inspired. Lesson learned: respond to inspiration when it shows itself.

So if I can just speak personally for a moment, I will, in hopes that you find it encouraging. And may encouragement lead to meaningful action.

I'm about to talk about skateboarding, DJ'ing, and illegally painting on walls. It might be a bit culture-bound by my roots in America. But trust me, it all ties back to you and your photography in the end.

When I was around 12 years old, I got a skateboard. I admired the pros in the magazines--even got to skate with Chad Muska by chance one day. I had to endure the public embarrassment of attempting to be a "skater". You remember us: skinny kids kicking skateboards into the air, eating pavement. In fact, there was even a word for this lot in life, a "poser", as in you pose or pretend to be something you're not. One was perpetually a poser until they could demonstrate some skill on a skateboard. I practiced a lot and never got that good. It wasn't until around age 17 that I got a long-board and found my niche: downhill speed and grace.

When 13 years old, I got my first inkling to direct my art toward graffiti. I browsed graf' magazines and "bit" others' styles until I could develop my own. In fact, before getting good, I was a "wanna-be" and a "biter". Not a good feeling. I later emerged original in my graffiti expressions.

When 15 I went to a local pawn shop and picked up my first turntables. I listened to DJ Z-Trip and the Tempe Bronx Krew's mixed tapes. I chatted with the local record store owner and founder of Swell, Russell, absorbing all that I could about "the scene" and the craft. I listened to DJ Radar and Q-bert daily. Wow was I behind them in skill! When DJ'ing a party for seniors my freshman year of high school, my leg would shake uncontrollably because of nervousness. Yeah, I was the real deal… superfly.

When I was 16 my DJ'ing led me to a love for music, which led me to buy a guitar I didn't know how to use. Coming out of the hip-hop scene and entering the hardcore scene was an interesting transition. In fact, some had me feel as if this type of genre-swapping made me a "sell-out". I joined a hardcore band six months later. Everyone was better than me. I didn't even know what a bridge was in music. Years later when playing for a crowd of 800, between songs, I remembered how timid I had been at first and embarrassed to play in front of others. But there I was having a blast amidst hot, colorful lights and crowds vibing on our songs. I had determined what I needed to do in order to be what I wanted to be, and in that moment on stage, I was so there!

This pattern in my life has not stopped, but I'll stop my story here. Ironically, dear photographer, there is never a full "arriving". Each new creative endeavor is always a journey. Today, I'm much farther along in my photography than I was when I first began shooting with Matt Brandon in Kashmir, India. But I'm still a "wanna-be" and a "poser" in some regards. What matters is that I'm original and true to myself, doing my best, and comfortable in my own skin. With visual peacemaking I feel that I've discovered a new niche I can stick with for years to come. Currently, with my move toward incorporating more motion and working with video editors to tell stories, I am again in way over my head (ask Peter Bergmeier). Again, I'm surrounded by Giants in this world who are so far advanced compared to me. Can you relate? But the journey continues.

I'm continually looking at what, and who, I want to be; and I live in the perpetual process of doing what I have to do to get there. I get discouraged when my impulse for a need to "arrive" flares up. This is my battle: being along for the ride, making the journey as much a goal as the destination. I admire those who embrace the journey in the moment as a way of life. It is behind the camera that I am most in that place, which is why I love it. But you also can't get so lost in the journey that you lose your edge and intentional determination--in my humble opinion. 

Looking back I can say I was a skater, a graffiti artist, a DJ, a rock musician, even a poet at one time, and now a photographer. Yet so often in the present moments of those past endeavors, I initially felt like a total wanna-be. As David duChemin has said, too, "You gotta fake it to make it."

Sometimes to progress, we have to be a poser, a wanna-be, a biter, a sell-out, a student before a teacher. Progression therefore requires humility and individual resolve. I hope my realization inspires you to overcome the fear and discomfort of trying new things.

If you're not aiming to do something that stretches your current abilities, what are you doing? In conclusion, I see a profound value in being a perpetual wanna-be. Just endure a little bit of embarrassment if you have to. Here I'll go first: I'm a wanna-be documentary-maker and social entrepreneur.

If you take this advise, then in your wake you will become *some* of the things you set out to be, but in the present you'll continually be "in over your head". I can attest, however, it's usually a meaningful and exciting place to be.

In short, remember this:
"Every artist was first an amateur." –Ralph Waldo Emerson

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Disclaimer: While IGVP strives for unity and clarity of vision, each blog author is responsible for his or her own words, links, and references. They do not necessarily represent the many voices and opinions of individuals within the visual peacemakers movement, the Guild, or the IGVP Founders.