Illusion of Better
I’ve been a professional photographer for 15 years, and in that time, I’ve owned just about every current camera brand: Canon, Sony, Panasonic, Fujifilm, Nikon, Leica, and a handful of film cameras and point-and-shoots. At first, buying new gear felt exciting and gave me illusion of betterment. Every new body or lens promised sharper specs, more opportunities, and I believed maybe even better art.
But after years of upgrading and switching systems, I realized I wasn’t getting closer to making my true art. Because true art doesn’t come from better gear, it comes from a deeper understanding of yourself and how you see the world.
Connection > Capability
The Canon 6D was my first “pro” camera which is funny because many wouldn’t consider it a pro camera anymore Before that, I thrifted a Rebel T7i to shoot my first photoshoot but quickly upgraded. The 6D felt different, it felt like a creative partner that would rise to the occasion but never in charge, always a partner. I shot everything with this kit. Weddings, portraits, videos, personal projects. That camera launched my career, and because I had so little gear, I learned it inside and out. The crazy part about this start of my professional career is that I exclusively used a $100 manual focus 35mm 1.8 for all of this professional work on a dslr with little to no focus assist tools. Now I would never recommend a new photographer shooting a wedding with this kit, but when I delivered the photos, the couple couldn’t have been happier. They didn’t once ask me what gear I used, and even loved the stylistic choice of the out of focus photos that kept me up at night because it was more of a mistake than a real creative choice. Focusing on perfection or not trying before having the “right” gear can lead you to deleting someone's favorite photos you took.
This set up wasn’t perfect, but I created a synergy with it that helped me develop a style for myself. That relationship set the foundation for how I see tools: the right camera can feel like an extension of yourself.
The right blend of Power and Personality
But if I’m honest, the first camera that made me feel like I was truly creating my art was the Fujifilm X100V. Later, the XT4 pushed that even further. But in the same way. They weren’t the most professional systems, or the ones reviewers would tell you to buy for professional work, but every time I used them, the images looked like what I saw in my head and more of what someone would hire me to create.
The XT4, especially, became my favorite camera of all time. And here’s the funny part: I sold it at one point to chase something newer, more powerful, more “professional.” But I missed it so much I bought it again. Even now, surrounded by newer cameras with better specs, the XT4 is still the one I love using most and the one I take with me on every trip. The Sony has better AF, the Canon a high mega pixel sensor, the Nikon maybe better internal body preset tools, but that didn’t matter. The xt4 was the camera that fit in my hand, and when I use one of the others for my professional work because I am convinced I need something better, I am left thinking “these photos probably would have came out better if I used the fuji”.
That told me something important: specs matter less than if the camera matches your creative vision.
This isn’t really a new thought, however, when you hear this being said, it’s usually said by the person holding the $6k Leica and no one would call a manual focus only Leica M camera unprofessional. So why is my old 6d any different? Why is my XT4 any different?
“Professional Enough”
For years, I heard the same thing: “Fujis aren’t professional.” That kind of talk gets into your head. I convinced myself I needed something more alongside them, just to be taken seriously. And yes, those cameras were faster, full frame, sometimes technically “better.”
But here’s the truth: all of them missed autofocus sometimes and when they didn’t miss, I was left trying to get over a different obstacle it left me with. Every camera has its flaws or maybe they just aren’t the right tool for the job. None of them were perfect, but the often times the chasing of perfection stifles true artistry. Creative obstacles encourage creative solutions which often open you up to unique stylistic genius. We’ve all had an artist we love whose early work feels raw and alive, but once they find success, get the big studio, and finally have the money to create anything they want, something changes. As fans, we’re often left missing the honesty and heart of their true art.
What I was chasing wasn’t specs or capability. It was connection. A tool that fit in my hand and my creative head.
The Lesson
So here’s where I’ve landed after all these years and all these cameras:
The right tool is the one that feels right for you & the job.
Don’t confuse better specs with the right gear.
Sometimes a 10-year-old camera will do the job just as good, if not better, than the newest release.
It’s not about refusing to buy gear. It’s about choosing the gear that helps you make the art you want to make. The gear that feels like yours.
For me, the Canon 6D taught me how to build a relationship with a tool. But the Fujifilm X100V and XT4 showed me what it meant to create my art, not just images.
And that’s the whole point: it’s not about the brush, it’s not about the chisel, it’s not about the camera, it’s about the artist and the best tool for that artist.