Creative Block Autopsies: The DP who wasn't

I started my creative career as a news photographer in San Diego, then moved on to an ad agency based out of Phoenix. Out of about 18 videographers, I was always near the top in sales. Management loved me, coworkers (most of them) liked me, I was “a company man.”

But here’s the truth: I wasn’t some slick sales genius. I just knew how to talk people into videos and then figure out how the hell to make them after. Half the time I was winging it.

At the agency, I had to do everything, produce, direct, shoot, edit, deliver, even sell the projects. It gave me a pile of skills, but the one thing I actually wanted to do, shoot, just be a DP, was buried under all the rest.

So when I left that spot, I thought I was ready. I had the résumé, the experience, the whole “Swiss Army knife” thing going for me.

But the first time I met with a legit production company in San Francisco, I felt it immediately: they didn’t buy it. They were nervous. I wasn’t a “real” DP.

And they were right, in a way. Crews don’t care if you can edit or sell or produce. They want a DP who walks in and knows exactly how they want to light, exactly how to frame, exactly how to run a crew. I didn’t come up that way. I came up by doing everything myself.

On a crew, that didn’t make me versatile. It made me untrustworthy.

That disconnect bled into everything. Jobs I couldn’t land. Sets that felt tense. Endless head-banging trying to convince people to take a shot on me. I hacked around it, called in favors, begged friends for opportunities. I DP’d some fun shoots, but the whole “full-time DP” identity? It never clicked.

These days I’ve drifted into photography. Not for clients, just for me. Maybe it never pays a decent dime, but at least it’s mine and that’s more than I could ever say about being a DP.

Here’s what I’ve learned: I didn’t fail as a DP because I couldn’t shoot. I failed because I tried to be everything. And the truth is, nobody trusts “everything.” They trust conviction.

Turns out being good at a lot doesn’t make people wonder what you’re capable of. It makes them wait to see what you’ll choose.

I’m still choosing. Maybe that’s the real work.

Keep Moving,

Matthew James Price
paradisevalleymedia.com
@mjpmontana