I was talking with a really accomplished photographer the other day. The guy is an immense talent, has been hired by all sorts of celebrities and productions, and has a very impressive body of work. And he was thinking about quitting photography.
He was also incredibly humble and open to advice, which I have to admit that I didn’t expect from a high-profile LA photographer. He talked about his background, his goals, and his current situation. His problems were the good kind, specifically the too-many-good-options variety.
Ahh, I understand, I said. You’re in the hustler’s trap.
A hustler is someone who can create something from nothing, usually in a pretty short amount of time. If he finds an opportunity, he’ll jump in head first. This photographer found a toy that was selling well before Christmas, so he started ordering containers of them from China and selling them on the internet. That was one of many of his hustler exploits.
And he rose quickly in photography, too. He was good, but he was also smart about his business, seeking out musicians he thought had promise, and shooting them before they got famous.
Now he found himself in the position of having more work than he could accept. A lot of it was the same sort of stuff he’d been shooting for years, and was very good at. It paid well, but wasn’t exciting. And then higher profile clients were approaching him to trade on his cachet for their more boring shoots. His business was predictable, good, and a little bit boring.
To most people this would be great, but a hustler thrives on spontaneous creation. Maintenance and consolidation are chores. Building is not; it’s the type of work that speeds up the hands on the clock and doesn’t feel like work at all.
This is the hustler’s trap. You build and build, defying the odds to create something new, and then it gets boring. Meanwhile, you spot a million other opportunities, and it kills you not to take them. It’s this visceral feeling of missing out that’s hard for a hustler to handle.
I’ve dealt with this over and over again, so I shared the conclusion that I’d come to for myself. You can keep doing the same thing over and over again, building to the same level you’ve built before. Or you can challenge yourself to push through your comfort zone and take something to a higher level. Most people, most hustlers, don’t do that. It’s harder and it’s scarier.
Immediately he brought up a photography project that he’d been kicking around for a while. It’s at the edge of his ability, the type of project that would require him to call in every favor he’s earned over the past few years. It’s scary, and he admits it. It was obvious that this project was the antidote for the hustler’s trap, uncharted territory that would take him to a higher level of success than he’s ever seen, if successful.
Our mutual friend and I both encouraged him to take it. From an uninvested third party, it was obviously the best play. But as a hustler myself, I know the siren’s call of a new project, and I know how hard it is to push through a sea of discomfort. I hope he does it, though. He’s too good to be stuck in the hustler’s trap.
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Photo is from the roof at the Met in NY
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