Finding the Light When the Conditions Aren't Perfect

This morning, before the day really got started, I was reading a devotional centered around one of my favorite reminders:

“In Me you may have peace.”
— John 16:33 NKJV

There is a vast difference between happiness and blessedness.

Happiness can be dependent upon circumstances.

Blessedness runs deeper.

And somewhere between those two ideas, I found myself thinking about photography.

More specifically, I found myself thinking about light.

For more than 30 years, I have had the privilege of working as a classically trained wedding and portrait photographer.

And when I say classically trained, I don't simply mean learning how to operate a camera.

I was groomed to look.

To watch.

To anticipate.

To find the moment before it happens.

To recognize something special when it appears for only a fraction of a second.

And yes—to create thoughtfully arranged portraits when necessary, but never so arranged that they look contrived.

The goal was always to make something carefully created feel completely natural.

That distinction matters.

Because sometimes the most beautiful photograph isn't the one where everything went according to plan.

Sometimes it's the photograph that happens because everything didn't.

The Paganini Lesson

This morning's devotional told the story of the great violinist Paganini.

As the story goes, he walked onto the stage before a grand performance and discovered, just as the applause was ending, that something was terribly wrong.

His beloved, expensive violin had been stolen.

What he had been left with was essentially a second-hand replacement.

For a moment, he was understandably stunned.

Imagine that.

You've spent years perfecting your craft.

You've prepared for the performance.

The audience is waiting.

The lights are on.

And suddenly, the very instrument you depend upon is gone.

But Paganini walked back onto that stage.

And according to the story, he told the audience:

“The music is not in the instrument, but in the soul.”

And then he played.

And apparently, he played magnificently.

The instrument was not what he had planned.

The circumstances were not what he had planned.

But the music was still inside him.

And that's the part that caught my attention this morning.

Because isn't that what a professional eventually learns?

The instrument matters.

Of course it does.

Give me the best camera.

Give me beautiful lenses.

Give me wonderful light.

Give me a magnificent location.

Give me every advantage I can possibly have.

I'll take them!

But don't confuse the tools with the gift.

The tools help express the gift.

They don't create it.

The Photographer's Violin

Over the years, I've photographed weddings and portraits in beautiful locations with extraordinary light.

But I've also photographed in rooms that were about as exciting as a cardboard box.

Sometimes there was barely enough natural light coming through a tiny window to do what I wanted to do.

And yet that was often when something interesting happened.

Because I learned to ask:

Where is the light?

Not:

Where is all the light?

Just...

Where is enough light?

That little distinction has served me well for decades.

Give me one window.

Give me a little corner of light.

Give me an interesting wall.

Give me a person willing to trust me.

And let's see what we can create.

Because light is rarely static.

It dances.

It moves.

It changes.

It slips across a face.

It disappears.

It comes back.

And sometimes the most beautiful light is the light you almost didn't notice.

That's photography.

But perhaps that's also life.

Seeing the Light in People

The longer I photograph people, the more convinced I become that my real job has never been simply to make someone look good.

It is to help them see something good that was already there.

That's a very different thing.

A beautiful portrait isn't necessarily about perfect skin, perfect clothing, perfect surroundings or perfect conditions.

It can be about expression.

Character.

Vulnerability.

Confidence.

Joy.

A quiet moment.

A genuine laugh.

A look between two people.

A senior standing on the threshold of adulthood wondering what comes next.

A bride looking at the person she's about to marry.

A family realizing, perhaps for the first time, just how quickly the years have passed.

Those moments don't need to be manufactured.

They need to be seen.

And perhaps that is the part of photography that I have loved most.

I have spent decades learning to see light.

But somewhere along the way, I also learned to look for the light in people.

And when you find it...

you protect it.

You frame it.

You preserve it.

You give it back to them.

The Right Tool in the Right Hands

A great camera in the hands of someone who doesn't know how to see is still just a camera.

A modest camera in the hands of someone who understands light, composition, timing, emotion and people can sometimes create something extraordinary.

The same principle applies far beyond photography.

The violin isn't the music.

The camera isn't the photograph.

The microphone isn't the message.

The paintbrush isn't the painting.

The drone isn't the vision.

The instrument is simply the vehicle through which something deeper is expressed.

The gift is in the person.

And ultimately, I believe even that gift comes from somewhere greater than ourselves.

“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above...”
— James 1:17 NKJV

That changes the way I look at what I do.

Photography isn't merely something I learned to do.

It became something I was given an opportunity to give away.

And maybe that's why I'm still so excited about it after all these years.

So... What Are We Photographing This Fall?

Well, I'm glad you asked.

High school seniors:
If you've been thinking about fall senior portraits, there is still time!

And I'm not talking about simply finding a pretty location and saying, “Okay, smile.”

Let's create something.

Let's find the light.

Let's find the personality.

Let's find the places and moments that actually feel like you.

Whether we're working with magnificent autumn color or a seemingly ordinary location, I'll bring the same philosophy I've brought to photography for more than three decades:

Find the light.
Find the moment.
Find the person.
Then create something memorable.

And for the bride and groom...

I'm also looking ahead toward a select collection of boutique wedding experiences—beautifully intentional, personal and limited in scope.

More on that soon.

Because after 30+ years, I'm less interested in photographing everything than I am in creating something meaningful.

Something with a point of view.

Something with soul.

Something you will still want to look at years from now.

And Families...

The holidays aren't as far away as they seem.

Family portraits make one of the most meaningful gifts you can give.

Not another thing that eventually ends up in a drawer.

A photograph.

A moment.

A memory.

A piece of your family preserved in time.

And yes...

there's more happening behind the camera these days, too.

Have you noticed I've been developing another rather interesting niche in Real Estate Media?

I've been having a wonderful time bringing my photographic eye into the world of real estate—creating imagery designed not simply to document a property, but to help people see its possibilities.

And yes...

I even have my 107A drone certification.

Apparently, after three decades of looking for the right angle from the ground...

I decided it was time to look from above.

More coming soon!

The Music Is Still in You

And perhaps this is the real lesson I took away from this morning's devotional.

The conditions won't always be perfect.

The light won't always be perfect.

The equipment won't always be perfect.

The location won't always be perfect.

The day won't always be perfect.

And neither will we.

But perhaps we don't need perfect conditions to make something beautiful.

Perhaps we simply need enough light to take the next photograph.

Enough faith to take the next step.

Enough courage to walk onto the stage when the instrument isn't the one we expected.

Because the music isn't ultimately in the instrument.

The music is in the soul.

And the light isn't simply outside of us.

Sometimes...

we are being asked to carry it.

“These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.”
— John 16:33 NKJV

So wherever you find yourself today...

If the conditions aren't what you hoped for...

If the light seems scarce...

If the instrument in your hands isn't the one you thought you'd be given...

look again.

There may be enough light.

There may be more music in you than you realize.

And there may be someone standing in front of your lens who simply needs you to help them see the light that was already there.

That, perhaps, is one of the greatest gifts we can give one another.

To see.
To create.
To encourage.
To preserve.
To give.

And to do it all with love, joy and gratitude for the gifts God has entrusted to us.

Because when the heart is right...

even the imperfect instrument can make beautiful music.

And sometimes...

the most beautiful light is the light we learn to see when everything else isn't perfect.

— Jon LaVerde
Photography • Portraits • Weddings • Families • Seniors • Real Estate Media