The Artwork Question That Nobody Think About Until It's Too Late
The Artwork Question Nobody Thinks About Until It's Too Late
When I first started Lil Monster Photography back in 2011, I was what photographers commonly referred to as a "shoot and burn" photographer.
For those unfamiliar with the term, it simply means that after the session I would provide clients with digital files, usually on a CD, DVD, or USB drive, and they could do whatever they wanted with the images.
At the time, there wasn't anything wrong with that approach.
In fact, I'm grateful for those years.
They helped me develop my skills as a photographer, learn how to work with dogs of all personalities, and build a portfolio that eventually grew into the business I have today.
But something interesting started happening years later.
As I reconnected with past clients, I'd often ask a simple question:
"What did you end up doing with your images?"
The answers were surprisingly consistent.
Many would tell me the images were still sitting on the CD I had given them.
Others had transferred them to a USB drive.
Some had them saved somewhere on a computer.
A few weren't even sure where the files were anymore.
Very few had printed them.
Even fewer had them hanging in their homes.
After all the planning, excitement, laughter, and memories created during the session, the photographs often ended up tucked away in a drawer somewhere.
That realization stuck with me.
Because photographs aren't meant to live in drawers.
They're meant to be seen.
The Problem With Digital Memories
We live in a world where we're taking more photographs than ever before.
Every day, countless images are captured on phones, tablets, cameras, and other devices.
The irony is that despite having more photographs than any generation before us, many of those images are rarely viewed.
They're buried in camera rolls.
Stored on hard drives.
Saved to cloud accounts.
Forgotten in folders.
Or sitting on aging media that may no longer even work.
Think about how many people have photos stored on CDs.
How many still own a computer with a CD drive?
USB drives get lost.
Hard drives fail.
Computers crash.
Phones break, get stolen, or accidentally end up in the washing machine.
Cloud backups are wonderful, but they only help if everything was backed up correctly in the first place.
Technology changes.
Storage methods evolve.
Files get misplaced.
What feels permanent today often isn't.
The truth is that digital files are incredibly convenient, but they're surprisingly fragile.
A Shift In Perspective
In 2019, I made a significant change in the way I approached my business.
Instead of focusing primarily on delivering digital images, I shifted toward helping clients create archival artwork for their homes.
The goal wasn't simply to sell products.
The goal was to make sure the photographs we created actually became part of people's lives.
Because something magical happens when an image leaves a hard drive and finds its way onto a wall.
It becomes visible.
It becomes part of your daily routine.
It becomes part of your home.
You don't have to remember to go searching for it.
You don't have to dig through thousands of files.
You simply walk by it.
Every day.
And every time you do, it reminds you of a moment, a feeling, or a chapter of life that mattered.
The Value Changes Over Time
One of the things I've learned over the years is that photographs rarely become less valuable emotionally.
They become more valuable.
The puppy that couldn't sit still becomes a senior dog.
The gray hairs slowly appear around the muzzle.
The walks become slower.
The years pass much faster than we'd like.
What feels ordinary today often becomes precious tomorrow.
I've photographed quite a few dogs over the years who have since crossed the Rainbow Bridge.
Many of those portraits have become some of the most treasured possessions their families own.
Not because they're expensive.
Not because they're large.
Not because they're technically perfect.
Because they're irreplaceable.
They represent a relationship that can never be recreated.
A personality that can never be duplicated.
A chapter of life that deserves to be remembered.
MY Akudra
This lesson became deeply personal for me when we lost my heart dog, Akudra.
Her passing was sudden and unexpected.
Anyone who has experienced the loss of a special dog understands the kind of hole they leave behind.
At first, looking at photographs of her was difficult.
The images brought back the pain of losing her.
The reminders were everywhere.
But over time, something changed.
The sadness slowly began sharing space with gratitude.
Today, I treasure every photograph and video we created together.
In my office, hanging prominently next to my desk, is a 20x30 framed metal print of Akudra running through the snow.
I see it every single day.
And every single day, it makes me smile.
I remember the session.
I remember the weather.
I remember her expression.
I remember her personality.
The joy.
The confidence.
The energy.
Everything that made her who she was shines through that image.
I often tell people it's my favorite photograph I've ever taken. Don't tell my kids.
But it's true.
Not because it's technically perfect.
Not because it won any awards.
Because it means something.
More Than Decoration
When people think about wall art, they often think about decorating a space.
And while beautiful artwork certainly enhances a home, I think there's something deeper happening.
The photographs we choose to display tell the story of what matters to us.
They're daily reminders of the people, experiences, and relationships that have shaped our lives.
For many of us, our dogs are woven into some of our happiest memories.
They're there during celebrations.
During difficult seasons.
During ordinary Tuesday afternoons that don't seem important until years later.
The artwork hanging on our walls becomes a way of honoring those relationships.
Not just for today.
But for years and decades to come.
Looking Ahead
I still provide digital images because they absolutely have value.
They're easy to share.
Easy to store.
Easy to enjoy.
But if there's one thing I've learned during my years as a pet photographer, it's this:
Digital files are convenient.
Artwork is experienced.
One lives on a device.
The other lives with you.
Long after the session is over.
Long after the excitement of viewing your images has passed.
Long after your dog has tracked muddy paw prints across the floor one last time.
The photographs that become part of your home are often the ones that become part of your family's story.
And that's the artwork question most people don't think about until it's too late.
The good news is that you don't have to wait until then.
