Our relentless critics

Reflecting on progress and some pictures from 2024.

Dec 31, 2024

Hey friends,

Are you a New Year’s resolution kind of person? I'm certainly not.

Mostly because my toughest and most relentless critic has taken residence inside my brain for as long as I can remember. Taking any kind of victory, big or small, has never really been my strength. But man, I’m really good at detailing any misses. So when the end of year accounting rolls around, resolutions make for easy receipts to tally up. Even if there are some achievements, all my brain inevitably sees is that I'm a year older with a growing debt of unrealized goals.

Who brought this guy, amirite?? This is not healthy. Don't be like me.

These days, most of my goals and progress are measured in my creative pursuits and side projects. Well, they’re forcibly measured thanks to subscriber and follower counts, meaning progress stays top of mind. Which is of course a pretty horrible idea. We're taught (sold?) a mostly linear trajectory for our lives, but that’s a silly lie. Nearly all progress made from incremental gains and subsequent setbacks, repeated over and over out of stubborn will. Creative projects are especially non-linear. Pegging your general mental well-being and sense of progress to a creative pursuits can be pretty detrimental.

But in the spirit of retrospect, my plan during winter break was to look back at my photography through 2024 and pick one photo from each month. The goal wasn't to find my "best" or even favorite, but one that spoke to me, personal or otherwise. Then I’d suss out what it was that drew me to them and learn from it for future work. Maybe they'd make it into a newsletter or social post, maybe not. The exercise was mostly for me, anyway.

It was surprisingly cathartic. I could see technical areas I'd like to improve, situations where I wish I was more prepared, and memories I’m just glad I captured. There were a few good ones, like this absolute unit of a gull...

And this little girl making sure her stuffed animal had a view outside the airplane.

Or one from my chat with Don Adrián, one of the oldest raicilleros in Jalisco, which was a completely surreal moment for me.

But I was surprised when my favorite picture of 2024 had nothing to do with travel, nature, or food & drink.

I grew up with basketball and even played a little in college. For most of my life, basketball, and “athlete,” was a huge part of how I viewed myself. But starting in my late twenties, I had a slew of injuries that kept me from any high impact sport. I went through multiple surgeries (knee and ankle), endless doctors, and years of rehab.

I could walk, hike, and perform most regular life stuff, but often I’d be left with swelling and wake up in the middle of the night in excruciating pain. With rehab, it slowly got better, but I’d eventually hit plateau after plateau. I stubbornly continued therapy and endlessly searched for new breakthroughs, though I could tell I was starting to resign myself to a new reality - athlete was no longer part of my identity.

In October, my friend from college invited me to come play pick-up basketball at his local gym. I was nervous but something in my brain was telling me to try it out. After seven years, I finally managed to play a full court game of basketball. A couple, at that! I was terrible, of course, and my body was definitely not functioning on all cylinders. But that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that I managed to get my ass up and down the court a few times without much pain.

Before the gym closed, I set the ball down and took a picture. Later that night, in the shower, I felt the gravity of that moment for me. This was one of those goals that was “in progress,” but relegated to the sidelines and largely forgotten. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, it happened.

My point! What is my point, dear readers? I don't know. It's late and I've had a few glasses of wine - I'm just rambling right now.

Maybe my point is that progress will take a circuitous path. It might be silent. It might not be measured. It might go largely unnoticed. And it might not be in the domain we expected. My favorite picture of 2024 won’t win any photography awards, go in a gallery, or give me hundreds of new subscribers. But it represented progress that even my harshest critic can’t argue with.

So look back at 2024 and set those goals for 2025, but be kind to yourself along the way. Thanks for being here, see ya next year.

Skylar

And if I had to pick one photo from each month…

January