Author: Scott Johnson FBIPP FSWPP, Grand Master of The Societies

I’ve been a professional photographer since 2003, and for the most part, a wedding photographer since 2006. I know… I don’t look that old. But trust me, my knees, back, and hips could write their own memoir.

Looking back on my career, I can see that there are some years when I was so focused on the outcome that I sometimes forgot to enjoy the process.

Now, stepping into what feels like the third act of my career, I’ve started remembering why I picked up a camera in the first place. It’s not for awards, validation, or social media. I’m in it for the simple act of creating something.

It all comes down to one simple word: “When.”

When

With nearly 25 years of photography under my belt, I can tell you this with certainty. It’s incredibly easy to lose yourself chasing the phrase: “I’ll be happy when.”

We are always chasing the “When” at the start of our careers, but in a different sense than we should be. While this is okay at the beginning, there is a huge difference in how you should pursue it as you grow.

We tie our happiness to milestones like they’re checkpoints in a game. 

“When I get ten bookings.”“When I land a £5,000 wedding.”
“When I win that award.”
“When I finally feel like I’ve made it.”

And for a while, it works. You hit one, and there’s a buzz, a sense of validation, and proof that you’re moving forward.

But, it never lasts. This is because the moment you reach one, you quietly move the goalposts again. Before you know it, ten years have passed and you’ve been chasing a gravy train that turns out to have biscuit wheels when you finally catch it.

I’ve been there.

When I started entering awards back in 2012, I was chasing the win. The trophy. The recognition. Don’t get me wrong, it brought me incredible opportunities like travel, teaching, and workshops around the world. Doors opened that I didn’t even know existed.  

Now I’m chasing a different set of “Whens,” and I think you should too.

When was the last time you practised?

Practice is where growth lives. Not on the wedding day, under pressure, or when you’ve got a timeline breathing down your neck and a coordinator checking their watch.

When I started out, I practised constantly. I hired models, got them into wedding outfits, and tested ideas. I’d try things that might fail because it didn’t matter if they did, from lighting setups to posing and compositions.

That’s the point.

Here’s the truth: the wedding day is not the place to experiment. Timelines are tight, expectations are high, and burning ten minutes trying something new that doesn’t land isn’t fair to the couple or to you. Confidence comes from repetition, creativity comes from freedom, and both of those come from practice.

If you feel stuck, or like your work hasn’t evolved in a while, it’s probably not because you’ve run out of ideas. It’s because you’ve run out of space to try them.

When was the last time you picked up your camera for fun?

Before this was a career, it was a creative outlet. Somewhere along the way, many of us can forget that.

We get buried in emails, timelines, client expectations, editing queues, and the camera becomes a tool instead of something we enjoy using.

I shoot weddings and studio portraits for work. Everything else I create is for me, from street images and landscapes to architecture and sports. Anything that has nothing to do with a client brief, that’s where the spark lives.

There’s no pressure or expectations. No one is waiting for the images. It’s just you reacting to what’s in front of you. Every time I do it, I’m reminded why I started. I’ve always said that my business is a hobby that got out of hand, and I try to keep it that way. The moment it stops being fun, you not only lose the enjoyment but also perspective. When that leaves, everything starts to feel like work.

When was the last time you worked for free?

I can feel some of you tensing up reading that, but I’m not saying to work for free as a business strategy. Sometimes, giving your time without expectation gives you something that money can’t.

I go to schools or colleges multiple times a year and speak to photography students. I don’t charge for it. Why? Because I remember what it felt like starting out: the uncertainty, the noise, the constant feeling that everyone else knew something I didn’t.  

I also remember the people who gave their time to help me by answering questions, sharing knowledge, and reassuring me that I was on the right path. 

At this stage of my career, it matters to me that I can be that person for someone else. That’s not working for free, that’s contributing and investing in the future of the industry that’s given me everything.

And selfishly, it gives me something back too. I get perspective, gratitude, and a reminder of how far I’ve come. At this stage of my career, helping someone take their first step matters more than the invoice.

That’s paying it forward.

When was the last time you felt creatively free?

Weddings can be tough.

These days are full of balancing expectations, timelines, family dynamics, weather, locations, and even sometimes compromise.

You never know what creative challenges are coming your way. For example, you could be working with a couple who are set on recreating something they’ve seen online that doesn’t fit their day. Or, you could be handed a list of 34 group shots just as the best light of the day appears. These moments can leave you thinking, “This isn’t why I chose this path.”

This is where personal work becomes essential.

When it’s just you and your camera, that’s where creativity breathes again. It’s a time to experiment without expectations, specific shot lists, and pressure. 

That’s where you create without consequence and try things just because you want to, not because you have to.  More often than not, those moments of freedom feed directly back into your paid work. 

You see differently. You react differently. You create differently. You become better.

When was the last time you booked time out for yourself?

This is the one that changes everything, because it doesn’t happen if it’s not in the diary.

We’re all guilty of saying, “I’ll do it when things quiet down.” But things don’t quiet down. There’s always another email, another job, another edit waiting.

So, you have to make quiet happen.

Once a month, I block out a day for myself. I take a break from client work and answering emails to practise, shoot, experiment, and simply enjoy the photography.

What makes it work is that I treat it like a booking. This time is non-negotiable.

If you don’t make time for this way of creating, you slowly drift. It doesn’t happen all at once, but just bit by bit. If you drift too far, one day you might realise you’re running a business built around something you no longer feel connected to. If that happens, it’s a dangerous place to be.

What happens when you chase the "Why"

Take one day a month.  

That's it.

One day to reset.
One day to reconnect.
One day to remind yourself why you started.

The work will always be there. The emails will always be there. The pressure will always be there. 

But your "Why" needs looking after.

And when it works... you're welcome.