The Creative Hours didn’t start as a workshop.
It started as a conversation.
I met a fellow photographer on a guided photo walk in St. Augustine- one of those experiences where you’re technically “learning,” but what you’re really craving is connection. As we walked, shot, and talked, I found myself doing what I’ve always done instinctively: helping her adjust her settings, guiding her eye, offering a different way to see the scene through the lens.
She told me she loved the way I explained things.
Not just the how, but the why.
That moment stayed with me.
The itch to teach (and why I resisted it for so long)
I’ve always had a pull toward teaching- but not in a performative, standing-at-the-front-of-the-room way. More in the come sit next to me, let’s figure this out together way.
Over the years, I’ve done one-on-one mentoring quietly and intentionally. I love the intimacy of it. I love meeting photographers where they are, helping them refine not just their technical skills, but their confidence and intuition.
But I also noticed something missing.
So many workshops I attended felt transactional.
Hierarchical.
Guarded.
I’ve never resonated with gatekeeping- especially in a creative industry that thrives on shared knowledge, experimentation, and growth. I’ve always believed that a rising tide lifts all ships. And while I can’t remember the exact wording of the saying, the sentiment has always felt true in my bones.
Creativity isn’t diminished by sharing it.
It expands.
Creating The Creative Hours
After that photo walk, I shared the idea of a workshop on Instagram—something informal, hands-on, and rooted in real connection. The response surprised me. My community didn’t just like the idea. They wanted it.
So I created The Creative Hours.
For the first one, I made a very intentional choice: we would shoot in midday light.
Midday is often avoided. It’s labeled as “harsh,” “unflattering,” or “difficult.” But one of my own biggest growth moments as a photographer came when I stopped fighting that light and learned how to work with it.
Midday lighting forced me to truly understand my settings.
To slow down.
To be precise.
To trust myself.
I wanted to offer that same challenge- and opportunity- to others.
What The Creative Hours looks like
For the first Creative Hours, I invited two models and kept the group small with six attendees. The goal wasn’t perfection. It was presence.
I guided when guidance was needed:
- helping adjust settings
- offering suggestions for angles and composition
- stepping in to demonstrate how to pose with intention
- showing how to build connection with your subject while still holding your own creative vision
But just as importantly, I stepped back.
I wanted attendees to lead. To experiment. To try something and miss- and try again. The Creative Hours isn’t about copying my style. It’s about helping photographers find their own footing while knowing support is there if they need it.
There’s no pressure to perform.
No expectation to “get the shot.”
Just space to learn, observe, and create.
What I get out of it
Creative Hours feeds me in a way very few things do.
It reminds me why I started.
It reconnects me to curiosity instead of output.
It allows me to witness photographers light up when something clicks.
Holding space for others deepens my own practice. Teaching doesn’t drain me- it refines me.
What others get out of it
From what attendees have shared, The Creative Hours offers:
- hands-on learning without intimidation
- confidence in challenging conditions
- permission to ask questions without feeling “behind”
- genuine connection with other creatives
- a reminder that growth doesn’t have to be competitive
It’s not about leaving with a portfolio piece.
It’s about leaving with trust in yourself.
Why I don’t charge for The Creative Hours
This part matters.
Creative Hours isn’t free because it lacks value.
It’s free because community matters to me.
Not everything needs to be monetized to be meaningful.
Not every exchange needs a price tag.
I wanted to create something that felt accessible, welcoming, and rooted in generosity- not obligation. A space where creatives could show up as they are, without pressure to justify their presence.
That decision is intentional.
And it always will be.
Looking ahead
The Creative Hours will be offered seasonally– by design.
My life is full. Between work, creativity, motherhood, and the very real need for space, I want each Creative Hours gathering to feel intentional. Unrushed. Fully held. Not squeezed in between obligations, but created with presence and care.
When The Creative Hours happens, it has my full attention.
That’s what allows it to remain what it is: a grounded space for learning, experimentation, and connection- without pressure or performance.
If you’re curious about future Creative Hours gatherings, I share upcoming dates and details quietly over on Instagram, as they unfold in their own time.
No urgency.
No rush.
Just an open invitation, when it feels right.
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