Vulnerability & Authenticity (Pt. I)

Embracing Rejection

I’ve been pontificating this week on the notion of vulnerability. The initial topic for this Substack edition was going to revolve around the idea of ‘rejection’ and the journey I’ve been on learning to deal with that emotion, but it seemed a bit thin on the ground, or, more importantly I found myself not actually wanting to sit down and write, so I changed the topic to broaden it out.

Stanton Moor - Peak District

Also, I have an exciting workshop announcement at the bottom of this post which will inevitably cause a little vulnerability because I’m putting myself out there in a new and different way.

I have a habit (and you may have noticed this) of regularly putting Pt. I in front of many of my Substack titles. That’s because these are topics and notions that I often circle back around to and I hope that whatever I write here is not something I believe to be definitive. I often revisit these ideas regularly in my day to day life, and I imagine I’ll do the same on this Substack. I also want this to be a conversation, to engage with you on these topics. I think the idea of vulnerability and its close friend, authenticity, are two of the most important notions when it comes to creativity.

How are they related? To me, and I stress this is very much my personal experience, I don’t think you can be authentic without some level of vulnerability. To be authentic you have to show a little of yourself to the world and that inevitably leads to a sense of vulnerability. I must also stress that I value authenticity highly. In a world where it’s easy to obfuscate reality, where there is so much illusion and we’re at the dawn of the AI era, authenticity is more valuable than ever. I admit that I probably hold people up to too high a standard in that regard, not least myself. I find that often I can tell when something on social media feels like a performance. Admittedly, social media in itself is performative in nature, but if someone projects that they are constantly successful, busy and well, content, my bullshit-o-meter pings. In all honesty, I find it quite frustrating, and such projections seem inherently tinged with insecurity, the idea that if you don’t display the perfect image of yourself or your work then the whole edifice will crumble. I don’t quite know why it bothers me, but it does. It’s like reducing things down to a clickbait headline. Everything becomes about appearance, down to the colour of your clothing. It distills raw experience down to a bland simulacrum of life.

I’ve never written this all down before and I know on some level it’s not for me to judge. However, it gives me a baseline, an opposite of how I want to conduct this creative life. Vulnerability is scary. Revealing parts of who you are to an unknowing audience opens you up to criticism and cruelty. Yet, without it there can be no authenticity. Some of my favourite artists and creatives are masters of vulnerability, and the rawness of their emotions, the way they use their voices, can change and shift hearts and minds. The most obvious example of this is Andrea Gibson. Their poetry and their way of engaging with the world is beyond beautiful. Authenticity runs through their bones.

When I think of authenticity in photography I think of a friend of mine, Mark Littlejohn. He is always truly himself, whenever he posts. What I’ve noticed about his posts are that often what he writes has little to do with the image that he posts and that matters not a jot. People just enjoy both his monologues and the image, but mostly I think they enjoy feeling like they’re part of something. Whether Mark intended to or not, he created a community of people who have incorporated reading his daily musings into their routine. He has become part of their world and that can only come from being authentic with your audience.

So, what is authenticity to me? It takes confidence. It means taking rejection in your stride. It means being honest about the times when it isn’t all going to plan. I used to fear rejection. As an overachiever in school, the idea that I could fail terrified me. If I failed in life I would pivot to something else. I applied for a Creative Writing MA when I was 21. Two institutions rejected me. Instead of persevering and trying again, I dropped the idea entirely and pivoted to a more academic based MA where I knew I wouldn’t fail. I insulated myself and in doing so made my experience of life less vibrant.

My fear of rejection has been helped somewhat by the fact photography work drops into my inbox on the regular so I rarely have to pitch for it. It took until recently for me to realise that this is far from ideal because I end up agreeing to work that doesn’t always interest me (I’m still adjusting to the feast/famine of freelance life). Therefore, this year, I’ve decided I want to pitch for work, and put myself out there. That means being vulnerable. That means being authentic. That means rejection.

There was an open call for some work that went out a month ago and I thought I would be really suited to it so I popped in my portfolio. Alas, they went with someone else. In the past this would have been enough for me to hunker down and avoid similar situations, but I’ve done a lot of work on accepting rejection as part of the process. I have a phrase that placates me in times like this; “what is meant of you won’t pass you by”. Nothing good can come from hiding away and waiting for opportunities to find me. It is time to step out into the light and follow my nose to wherever it wants to go. Rejection is part of the journey, part of the process. I hope that if I wander this path trying always to be my most authentic, most vulnerable self, that some of you will stick with me and I’ll build a wonderful community along the way.

Millstone Edge at sunrise during heather season

Speaking of being vulnerable. Myself and at the wonderful Adam Karnacz have decided to put on some workshops together. These will be very small groups (6 people maximum with 2 leaders) and aimed at really honing your creative skills. Adam and I are both photographers who value connection with the landscape and place experience about technical skill. We want to encourage people to become their most authentic, creative selves and see these workshops as an opportunity to build connection. To start, we’re running two one-day workshops in the Peak District during heather season. One will be at sunset and the other at sunrise. If you follow this link - Peaks in Bloom Workshop - you’ll find out more details.

Thanks for reading this week’s ramblings. See you next Sunday.