People ask me how I run five businesses out of one shop in Oak Cliff. The honest answer is that I don't think about it that way. I just show up and do the work in front of me.
This is what this week looked like.
Tuesday — The headshot station
Ran the headshot station at the Denton Embassy Suites & Convention Center. 100 people through the chair in 5 hours. Every one of them got their retouched headshot in their inbox before they left the building.
Thanks to Texas Autopsy Services for having me out.
The sponsor walked away with a CSV of 100 verified contacts — names, emails, titles, companies. That's the real product. The photography is the trojan horse.
Tore it down, packed the car, drove home. Slept like a rock.
Wednesday — The floor demo
Drove to a house in Knox Henderson to demo termite-damaged flooring. Ripped up the original 3/4" hardwoods and six joists underneath. The exterminators come Friday. New flooring goes down next week.
Demo days are the other side of the coin from the headshot station. One is polished, choreographed, deliverable-driven. The other is dust, sweat, and prying things up with a wrecking bar. I like both. I'd be bored doing just one.
Thursday — New door, Oak Cliff
Installing and staining a new exterior door at a 60's Craftsman house in Oak Cliff. The old door was original to the house and it was time. The new one is going to be a beautiful upgrade.
Door installs are one of those jobs where the margin for error is measured in thirty-seconds of an inch. If the frame's out of plumb, nothing you do will make the door close right. This one will close like a whisper.
Saturday — The pickup
Driving to Southlake to pick up a 60's walnut MCM hutch. The top has lived some life and shows it. I'll be stripping it down to bare wood and bringing it back to its original beauty.
This is the part of the work most people don't see. Before any restoration happens, someone has to find the piece, agree on a price, drive across the city, and get it in the truck without damaging it worse. A lot of the job is logistics and judgment. You're saying yes or no to a piece before you've ever touched a tool.
I said yes to this one.
Sunday — Engagement shoot
Steven & Ann, downtown Dallas, around First Presbyterian. Golden hour. The shoot where you're reminded why you became a photographer in the first place — not the big staged moments, but the small ones between them. The way he looked at her when he thought she wasn't looking back. That shot is always the one they end up framing.
The point
None of this is impressive on its own. One conference. One floor. One door. One piece of furniture. One couple. Any of those is a Tuesday for somebody.
What makes it work is that I care about all of it the same way. The guy who got his headshot on Tuesday is getting the same Erick as the couple I photographed on Sunday, and the family whose door I hung on Thursday. Same hands, same head, same standard.
That's what "every day" means.
— Erick