See? I'm getting better at this. This is the second week in a row! Crazy, right? This week has been really exciting for me, but it hasn't been without its share of bad news. On Tuesday I found out that a colleague and fellow Des Moines creative was involved in a serious motorcycle crash. On happier notes, I've signed two new projects, went to the library, and have been indulging more into this little crush on architecture I can't seem to shake.

Like I said. I'm bad at this, so it's been a few weeks. I've been up to some good stuff, like naming this weekly series, trying my hand at architecture photography, meeting with new people, and having some adventures in copywriting (because when you proofread for an engineer, it's usually an adventure of sorts). Let's get started, shall we?

Have you noticed how bad I am at updating the blog?

Me, too. I decided that I'm going to make a stronger effort into at least posting a weekly blog, even if it's just weekly updates with what I'm up to. Authenticity and a willingness to be vulnerable and transparent in my work is a core of my company and I've decided that part of that needs to be connecting with my audience on a more regular basis.

Last week I had the opportunity to photograph a dear friend of mine! Kurt is an engineer and an entrepreneur. His business is bringing his clients dreams to market at Tallawah Works right here in Des Moines. In this session, I wanted to capture Kurt's stubborn grit and determination, both as a person and an entrepreneur. Kurt was a great sport getting into some dirt in his suit and nice shoes!

Most of the time, I'm confident and secure in my appearance. I feel just as awesome in sweats and an old sweatshirt as I do a fancy red dress. Other times, I just don't like the way I look. Maybe my skin looks dingy, I have some blemishes or maybe it's a bad hair day. In some form or fashion, I don't feel like showing myself to the world as I am, so I fix myself up with all the bells and whistles. I bust out the Spanx, the hair spray, and all my makeup. When all is said and done, I still feel awesome about myself, but I wasn't keen on showing myself to the world as I am, because I don't want the world to see me as something I'm not.

Photographers do invasive work. Like many creatives, we possess an uncanny ability to see things about people that they don't know they are revealing. Sometimes we see what they are trying to hide, other times we see the signs of tension that signal discomfort. If there are no physical signs of tension, this vulnerability usually outs itself in the form of your subject saying something like, "I'm not photogenic," or, "I'm so awkward in front of the camera." Whatever way it shows itself, being a human subject is a much more vulnerable thing than we often realize.

A year ago, after several months of freelancing, a few weeks of pro/con lists and indecisive pondering, and a somewhat ceremonial purchase of a $20 Moleskine notebook, I decided to make it a thing. I decided to start my own company and go out on my own. The past year has been challenging, stressful at times, but overall a really positive experience. It's been everything I expected, and it's just as good of a fit for me as I suspected. Following suit, everything I learned is everything I expected to learn, or at the very least, nothing shocked me.

At the end of the day, an image is a product, much like a cup of coffee or a magazine, and just because it's in a digital format doesn't mean it should be free. When you see a price tag on an image, whether it be Getty Images or a local wedding photographer, you're looking at an amount that contributes to someone's livelihood. Using images without paying for them takes a living away from someone, and in a sense is expecting them to work for free.

Brené Brown talks a lot about the Man in the Arena speech. Entrepreneurship requires vulnerability, it requires us to, as Brené puts it, show up and be seen. It requires us to be humble enough to not armor up against our critics, but to reserve them a seat in the arena. Entrepreneurship requires us to accept that the only thing that is certain is that if we choose vulnerability, we will get our ass kicked. So, here's to whatever this becomes. To mistakes and failure, to learning, to deadlines and all-nighters, to face-down moments and vulnerability that yields connection and creativity, to showing up and being seen, to being the woman in the arena.