When I first came up with the idea of the Carving Tree I had no idea that it would evolve into this amazingly beautiful place for strangers to leave their mark. Over the last few months I have been touched and humbled by some of the carvings that have appeared there. Some of love won, some of love lost. But all of love no less. If so inspired please head over to the Carving Tree and say something beautiful. Say something sad. Say something…

She was fidgeting. She was nervous. Hell, I was nervous. No matter how many weddings I shoot, the edge never really wears off. Thankfully. Sometimes its like I close my eyes only to open them and find myself in happy places beyond my reasoning. At the base of Bridal Veil Falls in Yosemite. On the snow white parched ground of the Bonneville Salt flats. My toes buried deep in the black sand beach of an exotic island. On this particular day I opened my eyes to find myself under the looming shade of a 1941 cargo plane in the heart of Napa Valley. I reached up and ran my hand along the cold aluminum propeller blade, wiping away the cob webs as I went. Out of curiosity I gave it a little tug and it didn’t budge. Locked up from half a century of rust no doubt. The whole day had been slightly surreal to begin with. An afternoon of iced lemonade, croquet on the lawn, and the smell of cigars lingering in the air and to end it like this is, well, incredible. Katelyn took Mike by the hand and leaned into him. He pulled a tiny white hanky from his coat pocket and wiped the smallest bead of sweat from her brow. Then he leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. She closed her eyes and grinned and melted. Right there, melted. It was close to 85 degrees in the shade and she still couldn’t seem to get close enough to him. They were finally married. After all this time, all this planning, after the guests were fed and left to enjoy the company of one another, there were no more decisions to be made. It was finished and she seemed thankful for the opportunity to finally take a moment to “just be”. To be his.
She rested her head on his shoulder and let out a sigh and with her eyes still closed she said “Okay, Clatyon. We’re all yours.”
I drew my camera to my eye and without skipping a beat I whispered just loud enough to be heard.
“Don’t move a thing. Stand still. Look pretty…”

Susan wrote:

Clayton, I have long been an admirer of your work and am so happy to have come across it! I am a new photographer and have had trouble nailing down an album vendor. With so many choices on the market may I be so bold as to inquire who you use and perhaps even give a bit of insight on your album design work flow? Thanks so much!

Thanks so much Susan! I am happy to share. There are many, many reputable album vendors on the market right now and I understand how it can be a daunting decision at times. After all, your albums should be a direct reflection of your branding. I have felt this from the beginning which is why I chose early on to include a beautiful album in all of my investment packages. I am proud of my images and what them displayed in the possible medium. From day one I have used AsukaBooks and have not looked back since! I have always been so impressed with not only the amazing quality and selection of the albums but also their customer service is flawless. Also, the ordering process is simple and fast. Of particular interest to photographers is the fact that each and every album is double checked by an Asuka employee who pays special attention to bleed lines, spelling, and dates (Thanks Katie!). If anything looks just a bit off I am contacted and given the opportunity to resubmit with corrections. I have highly benefited from my relationship with AsukaBooks and will continue to do so.

At the moment I offer my clients two album choices. The first, my “Trust” series, is included in all investments and is a standard 10×10, leather bound album in a varnish finish. The number of sides depends on the customization of the client. Because my branding is instrumental to my business, consistency is key. Therefor all albums display black & white covers with black spines and backs. The second, my “Intimacy” series is offered as an optional upgrade and is also a 10×10 album only this is a modern version of the classic flush mount albums. Check back soon as I will be discussing my work flow in part 2.

 *Please note: These albums are NOT paid models but are actual Clayton Austin. Love. Stories. albums!*

 “Trust”
Albums by Clayton Austin. Love. Stories. 

 “Intimacy”
Albums by Clayton Austin. Love. Stories.

Happy Friday!

It has been brought to my attention lately that there has been a recent claim that my portfolio consists mainly of “staged” weddings and model shoots. No, seriously. Normally I wouldn’t take the time to address such outlandish accusations if it weren’t for the fact that I feel deeply that this is an issue in the industry that should be addressed and considered more closely. You see, I commonly receive emails from newer photographers who seek advice on how to “click” with their clients and who seem to struggle with the bride and groom sessions during any given wedding day. I know that this was where I felt most uncomfortable in the beginning. After all, its so much easier to take a photo of an inanimate object such as a cake or a beautiful pair of shoes. But portraits as we all know is a completely different story! The hardest thing about becoming a wedding photographer is hands down building a decent portfolio. Of course the very first thing a potential client requests is to see examples of your work! And rightly so. Early on I was aware that in order to gain clients trust in my abilities to produce good images and in turn have something to show for it was simple. Practice. Practice. Practice. My very first session….I take that back. My very first FIVE sessions were absolutely free. Some from a tiny advertisement on Craigslist offering my services in exchange for the images produced. Others were friends and even a few were aspiring models I found on websites such as the really cool Model Mayhem site. When it came down to it I didn’t care about money. I just wanted the opportunity to do what I loved so dearly. Honestly, I’d photograph anything and anyone who let me within 10 feet of them. Day or night. Rain or shine. Tall or short. Blond or brunette. Practice. Practice. Practice. Of all these things I have to say I learned the most from aspiring models, most of which who like me were looking to build a portfolio and fine tune their craft. I never paid for their services, only traded the images for their time. It was a beautiful relationship. But it was in these shoots that I began to grow. I learned so much about how to feel comfortable, not only from behind the lens, but also how to better interact with clients. In fact, it was in such a shoot that I learned an invaluable lesson about women. That they don’t like to appear taller than their male counterparts. It seems simple I know. But as an combat medic/firefighter it was so foreign to me that I never in a million years would have even considered it an issue. And in another session I learned that women have an odd obsession with shoes and that they feel prettier in a sexy “s” pose rather than the much more stiff poses I was suggesting in my lack of experience. On the other hand a male model once told me that he always feels awkward without something to do with his hands. So whenever possible he prefers to put his hands in his pockets and lean slightly to the left on his “sex hip” as he put it. I noticed that he immediately looked casual and comfortable. Brilliant! Yes, all invaluable lessons indeed which in turn fast tracked my skills, fine tuned my craft, and allowed me the opportunity to produce images that I was truly proud of. Practice. Practice. Practice. To this day one of the best pieces of advice I can give is to find someone to photograph who will give you constructive criticism. It amazes me that some would frown on this and rather you “practice” on the most special day in a couple’s lives instead. Trust me, when you are racing against the sun and you only have ten minutes with a couple, that is not the time to work out the bugs on your bride and groom portrait sessions.

Here’s something to chew on.

I met Leslie on Model Mayhem. She had been with Berk for over two years and had never had pictures taken together. So we set out on a beautiful sunny day and went out and had some fun for a while. Absolutely free. Just because I love taking pictures. It keeps my mind clear. It satisfies my insides like few things can in this world. It sets me free. In the middle of the session Leslie just happen to lean over and wrap her around Berk and rest her head on his shoulder. To this day I think the composition and framing is nothing less than a brilliant accident.

In an instant, gone are the days of tearing out magazine advertisements. Inspiration was right in front of me! Immediately every wedding client following this “just because” session benefited because I became just little more comfortable in my own skin.

Just ask clients Anna and Tyler:

Or Sean and Leigh:

Or Hunter and Brittney:

Or Sanah & Zain:

So there you go. And on the record. I have and will continue to photograph every chance I can. In my mind’s eye I will never be good enough and will continue to seek out those who will help me grow and evolve and take me one step closer to being the artist I ache to become. Love what you do. Do it for yourself. In the end clients don’t book you on WHO is in your port. They book you on how well you will capture THEM. So I am happy to consider this issue…well, squashed.

Clayton,
I do not know you, nor do I know if I will ever have the privilege to ever have you as my photographer in my future, but I, still as a fan, feel the need to tell you to forget about those things that drag you down. To move past the negative words and bad experiences. The words of the critics should not (and I believe do not) affect your work, but it is evident that you do take what they say to the heart, and it hurts. And of course, that is totally understandable. I see through your writing and your art that it is not a matter of work for you, but in every photo you take you leave a RAW image of your heart and soul–of what you love to do best (capture The Goodness, as you put it). But rather taking what they say and being defensive or offended by it, take their words and empower yourself to learn from every experience–the good and the bad. Rather than focusing on their negative comments, use what they say, even if it’s exaggerated or whatnot, to better yourself. Forgive, rather than become bitter about it. Move forward, and keep doing the work that you have been blessed to do. I know I am young and have not experienced as much life and experiences as you, but I just felt the need to share that with you as I have recently been following the recent disputes and can see how it’s affected you. As another fan has quoted, “This too shall pass,” but your heart and how you take it will affect just how it passes through –roughly, scarring and hardening the tissue, or smoothly, washing away as it moves past.

And as for your work, it is amazing. Don’t ever forget that. And know that you have so many people out there that love your heart and your soul for how real and passionate it just is.

Sincerely,

A fan that just wants to encourage you (and didn’t want to post this personal message on your Facebook wall)

I once read that “Home is not where you live, but where they understand you”. After being on the road for the last few weeks I must say that no matter how exotic, or new, or exciting a shoot may be, it is simply not home. We live on a tiny street lined with tall shady trees and white picket fences. No, really. White picket fences. The neighbors to the left and to the right as well as the two families across the alley in the back are like family to us. In many ways they ARE our family. On any given Tuesday we can be found gathered on a back porch laughing and talking into the early hours. But that’s not what this post is about. Its about the safety I find here after a long trip. Or a long day. Or a long anything. It is my refuge. A place where I know that I am loved. Addison has an infatuation with things that smell good. Whether it be candles, or incense, or an assortment of flowery spray things, the house always smells like Lavender. Or cinnamon. And quite often, a mixture of both. Tonight when I returned from New Orleans and strolled up the walkway my heart began to pound in anticipation of that wonderfully familiar smell of being safe. And it did not disappoint. It was close to eleven and we made breakfast together. Turkey sausage and scrambled eggs. And somewhere in there I scratched my dog behind the ears and kicked off my shoes in the middle of the living room and knew that everything would be okay. That this is truly the happiest place on earth. Tonight the Goodness is my soft fluffy pillow. The remote control with the missing back. The dirty dishes in the sink. Tonight, the Goodness smells like Lavender.

It is almost unnecessary to write a review about Clayton’s photos, they speak, and beautifully, I must say, for themselves. Clayton took our engagements, my bridal portraits, our wedding photos, and did a day-after session with us and every. single. photo. is enchanting. But what I really want to talk about is Clayton as a photographer and a person. We were awed by his generosity towards us when we first met him. He cares more about his work than anyone I have ever known because he always goes out of the way to build on the ideas that you have for your photos. We were able to be in constant communication with him about everything and he was patient, kind, creative, and hilarious. It was really comfortable to be around him and to be photographed by him because he was constantly making us laugh. Clayton was definitely our best discovery in the wedding process and we are so thankful for him and his beautiful, beautiful work.

*Side note from me* They think I’m hilarious. Awesome. No, Tahni and Joseph. YOU are hilarious. ;-)

We took a left down St. Claude Avenue and crossed into the Lower 9th Ward section of New Orleans. I pressed my face against the window, I didn’t want to miss a thing. We passed a boat in the middle of the road. A boat I tell you. The roads were in all but non existent and barely accessible. We pulled up to a house with a roof and floor and a few vertical 2×4’s holding it all together. Directly across the street an elderly man sat on his porch watching us in curiosity. His home was leaning a bit to left and all the windows were boarded over with weathered plywood. A faint line ran across the top, just under the awning. I knew right away that is was a waterline where  5 years ago the flood had risen up to that point, 14 or 15 feet high. He nodded in our direction. I raised my hand in a pathetic wave and forced a smile. I felt bad for him. I wanted to give him a glass of sweet iced tee. Or better yet an air conditioner.
“You see those markings in the bottom right corner of the homes?” Charlie asked as I surveyed the road we were on where the weeds and grass was as high as the deserted homes themselves.
I strained to see what he was speaking of and then I saw it. An X with faint numbers both above and below. “Yeah, I see them” I responded. I hadn’t noticed them before but now that Charlie had pointed them out they began to stick out like fat kid in gym class.
“Those markings were left by rescue workers following the hurricane. It was a system to keep the homes from being searched repeatedly.” He continued. “When they left a house they would mark the bottom right corner with an X. The top numbers are the date it was searched. The bottom number…” Charlie paused for a moment. I leaned in hanging on his every word. “Well, the bottom number represents the number of bodies that were discovered there…” He let the words trail off just a bit but they hit me square in the chest no less. I leaned back and pondered everything I just heard. As I gazed out the left window, all of a sudden the markings took on a whole new meaning. Some homes had 0’s thankfully. But it seemed more often than not there was a 1 or 2. One home had a 4 and when I saw it I felt the air being sucked from my lungs. I just couldn’t take it all in. The impact was significant.
Andrea turned to me. “We love this city. New Orleans is our home. And when Katrina hit, it stole a piece of everyone who lived here. It was like a ghost town.” She turned to Charlie and placed her hand on the back of his neck. “But we both stayed. We did okay.”
The impact of this particular engagement session became blinding in nature. It was more than just a picture. It was a declaration of life. Of love.
You see, when I was a firefighter I did a summer of  volunteering with the forestry service. The fires had long been extinguished but our objective was to  help the forests begin again. We would tear down dead trees and gather brush into piles allowing the ground to breathe and soak up the sunlight. But more importantly we planted seedlings. At first it was odd seeing the tiny green shrubs surrounded by acres and acres of a charred, black wasteland. Odd, but overwhelmingly beautiful. A sign of hope. A new start.
This was kind of like that. Charlie and Andrea were a tree, planting themselves in a place that represented a time of sorrow and sadness bringing with them a joyful and thankful heart. Thankful for not only surviving the hurricane but to live to meet the other.
The old man watched us as we unloaded the car. ” These two are engaged” I explained. “We’re going to take some picture in that house across the street.”
“Oh? That would be mighty nice.” he said breaking into a toothless grin.
I liked him immediately. He was glad we were there and he welcomed us into his neighborhood leaving us with no doubt that we were free to plant as many trees as we like…