Waikiki Betty

Shortly after moving to Oahu in March 2024, I was having drinks with someone who insisted that within 6-months of living here I will experience a challenge that dictates whether I stay or leave the island. She wasn’t wrong.

After the museum fired me in September I was faced with an unexpected future, alone in Waikiki, with no anticipation of future work. I still felt okay, though. That gut feeling that says, that knows, “it’s all going to be okay.”

I was miserable working at the museum and I chose to endure something that I hated for too long, so the relief of being terminated was real. Turns out, I’m actually better off without misery. The job brought me to the island, and gave me the opportunity to learn heaps about Hawaiian history, so for that I’m very grateful.

So then what? I bought water housing for my camera and started documenting tourists taking surf lessons, (just like I said I would years prior). Waikiki Betty LLC started making waves in January 2025 and it’s remained a success to this day. But before I was ready to go into debt for startup costs, I had to really know that this was all going to payoff.

In this town, the tourism economy is like an open faucet so the money is there. But you also have to understand that these beaches are steward by natives and longtime business owners, specifically surf schools and independent surf instructors. In order to gain that trust and acceptance it was going to be, no pun intended, a sink or swim experience. It’s not like anyone invited me to come take pictures, or anything.

But the documentarian inside of me knows that I have the right to access, and the surfer in me knows that I belong.

The first 6-months of business delivered in the way I needed it to, and the pride of making something out of nothing is quite frankly, unforgettable. I’m living my happiest life and I get to take pictures for a living, meeting people in the sun and salt water. I’ve started something that supports me and provides gigs to contractors on the island.

I’d also like to add that I did, in fact, manifest all of this. Shoutout SoCal published an interview in December 2022 about my journey as a photographer and I told them that my next step was to move to Hawaii and document tourists taking surf lessons.

Waikiki Betty has taught me a lot about business, but most importantly, a lot about myself. Isn’t that so fucking cheesy? It’s true, tho. Charging handsome rates comes with the territory of making money. For me, the struggle is like holding up a mirror and having conviction that what I’m charging is what the photos are worth. And then there’s this terrible existential question, “How is my rate reflective of me, the artist?” The juxtaposition of doing business as an artist is real and probably something that a lot of creative professionals struggle to do without ego.

So now what? Keep going, as always. Expand my portfolio into an endless library of beautiful faces, expressed by all walks of humanity and reflected by yours truly. Dust off my Hasselblad and enjoy shooting film again. Make more friends and clients. Continue creating the best life I can for myself. Eat steak and take Betty to the beach more often. Take a moment to bask in my success.

50 • 30 • 20

I like how numbers work. They’re exact, there’s no emotional attachment to their existence and most importantly numbers hold us accountable. Athletes rely on numbers to determine who wins. I also like abstract numbers, such as breaking ideas down into ratios. For instance Mike Tyson said that, “boxing is a spiritual sport…10% physical and 90% mental.” But you need all 10% in order to support the other 90. I interpret the world of commercial photography as 50/30/20.

50% of it is simply who you are. If people like you—especially if you’re smart and stylish—many times you’ll get an opportunity to work. Enthusiasm and fun matters. Appearances matter. Get into it, be a good person and look the part. There’s more of a demand for this in the industry nowadays because mean people suck. Being a diva comes with the territory, but being a downright cunt isn’t acceptable. There are some really talented people who don’t work as much because they aren’t friendly.

30% of it is talent. I’ve found this to be the most interesting dissection point because what’s considered to be ‘good’ is relative and therefore so is the bulk of perceived talent. I think that there are standards when it comes to contemporary imaging still being upheld by editorials—which is expected. But repeatedly producing introspective content, (or what I refer to as self plagiarism) is, I think, what pushes the envelope of talent. Acknowledging the place where inspiration is rooted is something you can’t fake. For instance seeing Robert Mapplethrope’s work for the first time made a lot of people feel uncomfortable, but for the artist it needed to be produced. You can look at an artist’s work and see whether they’re telling you the truth or not based on how well the artist knows himself. With that said the work doesn’t necessarily have to be ‘good,’ but honest. You can go to school or find an apprenticeship to learn how to be good, but knowing thyself is what separates the real ones from the posers.

And 20% is guts. You need all 20%.

Poseidon

Regardless of anything else happening my in life, god speaks to me in the water. I’ve never been a religious man, but when I need him I find him there. I rant to myself alone and out loud (like a crazy person), about:

the heartache of failed relationships

my troubles with the opposite sex

being exploited for my talents and labor over the years

family drama

fear of losing my dog unexpectedly

paranoia of losing my freedom

having to deal with friends, family, colleagues, neighbors who refuse accountability, decency, courtesy

money, money, money

and simply feeling like a terrible person who doesn’t deserve love due to my own proclivities.

It feels odd to be feeling this odd at 41yo. One would assume that I’d have more of it ‘together’ by now, but that’s what expectations can do to a person. It all reminds me that life should be fun, and I always have the option to surrender to the unexpected, which mitigates disappointment.

And when all of my wisdom escapes me, when life throws me a curve ball (or several), I get my board and sit in the water and speak to myself aloud. I curse him and her and them and the circumstances of my life. I boil and seethe like a raging wild animal, passing judgment on everybody who’s hurt me, real or imagined, until I cry.

And then god sends me a wave.