📸 Let's talk expectations... 

I’ve been thinking a lot about expectations and how easily they trap us in unproductive ways of thinking.

You know how it goes: you start a project and almost immediately begin projecting how much money it could make. Or you begin personal work and find yourself wondering how it might be sold, who might see it, or what it could lead to. Will it raise your profile, change your life, or even just mean something later on?

As soon as my thinking devolves to this, the creativity, passion, and drive usually vanish, and the project is already dead.

Lately, I’ve been challenging myself to do things purely for pleasure or purpose, without letting my mind jump to what could be down the line. A few examples are tending my raised garden beds (which have cost hundreds of dollars and yielded approx. five small cucumbers, four jalapenos, and three cherry tomatoes), or photographing nature, and then painting from the photos in bed before I go to sleep. I would be genuinely shocked if anything “worthwhile” ever comes from these small pleasures. And yet, who knows? Something might materialize five years from now, from watercolors or gardening. Something I couldn’t possibly imagine today.

“Whether you succeed or not is irrelevant; there is no such thing. Making your unknown known is the important thing--and keeping the unknown always beyond you.”―Georgia O’Keefe

All of this brings me to “Florida Boys”, a photo series by photographer Josh Aronson (who is also behind Photo Book Speed Dating, which we wrote about here). “Florida Boys” is a love letter to Florida, my home state, and where Aaronson moved to as a child. For the project, he embarked on a coming- of-age road trip through the state with friends and strangers he found “through Instagram, scrolling through friends of friends’ tagged posts, searching for people who also felt connected to Florida’s strange DNA”.

The photographs are compelling on their own (reminiscent of Justine Kurland’s Girl Pictures), but what really struck me about this project is that he shot the work and then waited three years to develop the film. That’s a lot of patience and trust in timing for a project that took him five years to make.

However, it seems this process paid off, as the project has been exhibited and written about (in 30+ publications). Apparently, we are a little late to the party, but below is a short excerpt from my interview with Aronson. You can read it in its entirety here.

In your excellent article for Vogue, you wrote: “Making photographs is, for me, a way to reclaim a sense of belonging. Photography allows me to imagine belonging somewhere and to make that fantasy a bit more real through the act of visualizing it.” Can you expand on this?

“I was born in Canada but raised in Florida. It’s home, but my family has no roots here, so I’ve always felt like an insider-outsider. Photography lets me belong to a place I’ve been told I don’t.

“Growing up, I never saw myself in the images of Americana or coming-of-age stories I encountered. Through photography, I’ve been able to expand that language. To place myself and people like me inside it. I cast young men as surrogates for myself and bring them into rural and natural locations around the state. Many are first-generation Americans or children of immigrants who, like me, never had those quintessential outdoorsy coming-of-age experiences. Together, we make-believe. We play pretend as young men on the fringe, at ease in nature and in harmony with one another. In the act of pretending, we actually start to feel that sense of belonging. Fake it ‘til you make it.”

You didn’t develop the film for three years after you shot this work. This seems almost fitting with the subject matter, but it’s obviously not the norm. Why did you wait so long?

”I think of my practice as having two distinct modes: the maker and the editor. I don’t like to mix them. While I’m in the maker’s mode, I don’t want to analyze or judge what I’ve made. By keeping the film undeveloped, I could stay curious. Stay hungry to keep staging images. It helped me sustain the project for five years without overthinking it. When I finally developed the film, it felt like rediscovering a diary I’d forgotten I was writing.”

What did you think when you developed the film?

“Honestly… thank God my camera still worked. But really, it was relief and recognition. The pictures felt like proof that what I imagined had actually happened.”

Photographers, if you’re looking for a portfolio review or thoughtful feedback on a project in development (or still incubating), I’m offering Feature Shoot Premium newsletter subscribers (yearly) a complimentary 30-minute conversation with me, Alison Zavos, Founder of Feature Shoot.

Please note: This benefit will expire at the end of the month. If you are a current (or future) member and would like a review, be sure to subscribe and let me know before January 31, 2026.