Photography is a tough profession.
A look back at my past posts will follow this theme.
It’s not all doom and gloom though, and this entry (long overdue) is an optimistic one.
Why? Because I’ve finally broken a seemingly never-ending loop that’s stopped me from putting myself out there and seeking support to continue personal projects. Many of the documentary projects on my website: Trust and Responsibility, Prison in Wartime, Gentlemen in Disguise, The Moranbah Rodeo to name a few, are self-funded.
By selling prints I’ll be able to undertake more of these projects. I’ll also be closer to the dream of living on the road and making a living selling my work.
But I’ve long been apprehensive about selling prints, and have repeatedly talked myself out of opening a print store. These “reasons” manifest into a cycle of thinking that goes something like this:
- What if no one will buy them?
- Which images should I offer?
- How will I ship them?
- What if no one will buy them?
To be clear, I love physical images. Printing work has never failed to bring a smile to my face. Being able to physically hold something intangible, a moment in time, is extremely rewarding. Having said that, I’ve been stuck in the aforementioned loop since I started my career as a photographer: constantly critiquing, changing and delaying.
That loop stops now, with this post. As I have spent the past week selecting and refining, I can now say that my prints are available for purchase right here on my website. Currently there are 10 images, each in an edition of 50.
This number of images available will grow and I welcome input on which ones you’d like to see made available.
Thank you for reading, now please go have a browse of what I have put together.
Keep building.
- Cory
A much needed update ahead:
After my last post ‘Persistence’ I wanted to follow up with the fruition of a long-planned personal project that finally came to be. There were actually two personal projects that I got to work on in quick succession (the second I have saved for a future post).
The first began back in 2022 when the invasion of Ukraine began. Like many others I was struck by the sheer number of people fleeing the conflict. Images streamed in of emotional goodbyes at train stations, long lines at borders, and countless others volunteering to fight against the oncoming invasion.
I wondered though, what about those who couldn’t leave? More specifically, what about those who were confined, incarcerated? What do prisons look like when a country finds itself at war?
After researching the structure of the Ukrainian prison system and generating a list of who to contact I began making inquiries. Understandably, this took time as there were a lot of variables and unknowns in the beginning of the conflict.
My initial request was rejected by authorities as there had been blindspots in my proposal that could put people at risk. This was uncharted territory for me so I took it as a lesson and pushed forward. Fortunately for me, the Ukrainian prison service saw that my interest was genuine and worked with me to address the issues in my first proposal. With their help and mediation I was granted access to four prisons throughout Ukraine in September. Working alongside an Ukrainian-based NGO we crisscrossed the country visiting institutions both near and far from the front line.
I can now say that the work will be published soon by Prison Insider who also assisted in gaining accreditation. I can’t wait to share it.
Thank you for reading.
I take a lot of different types of work in media (for both video and stills): spot news (favourite), commercial, editorial and corporate. While I love the variety, I also feel like it pulls me away from the work I’m really passionate about (that few often commission). For me, that work is anything to do with incarceration and its wider affect. If you’re reading this, you can see a selection of this work here (and a wider collection of the work by clicking ‘Incarceration’ in the left drop down menu).
I think there are working photographers out there who will agree that what pays the bills often pulls them away from work they want to make for themselves or long term projects that they are passionate about (these might be one and the same).
This is to preface a project I wanted to start last year. For a long time I have watched how different the Norwegian criminal justice system is. The humanizing of incarcerated individuals and focus on rehabilitation has worked for Norway in reducing its prison population and, perhaps most importantly, reoffending/recidivism.
Last year, I contacted the prison service in Norway to request access to see how this system works. I told them why I was interested and showed examples of the type of work I had done on incarceration in the past. In the days after the application I felt optimistic that they would permit me to visit and photograph. Due to a number of factors they rejected my request, but encouraged me to apply next year. It was frustrating and disheartening, but I thanked them for their consideration, and a year later, I applied again. This time I was successful and am excited and very much looking forward to the visit later this year. Persistence pays.
As I mentioned in previous posts, this is a personal journal and is as much for my own reflection as it is for anyone that might be reading it. If that’s you, thank you for reading.
