Six Years of Happiness Hour: 284 Wednesdays of Seeing Differently

On April 1, Happiness Hour marks its sixth anniversary—and our 284th session. What started as a simple way to stay connected during the uncertainty of COVID has grown into something steady, meaningful, and deeply rooted: a Wednesday night ritual of learning, laughing, and making better photographs.

In those early days, the goal was connection. Cameras gave us a reason to gather, but it was the shared experience—the conversations, the curiosity, the sense that we were all figuring things out together—that kept us coming back. Somewhere along the way, that weekly check-in became a commitment. Not just to show up, but to keep growing.

One of the most remarkable parts of this journey has been the voices we’ve welcomed into the room. We’ve heard from photographers who have stood behind the scenes as a President’s official White House photographer, from the artist who documented the world of Michael Jackson, and from a two-time Pulitzer Prize winner whose work has shaped how history is seen and remembered.

But just as meaningful—if not more so—have been the stories shared by members of this very community. Photographers who didn’t set out to teach, but who showed us something anyway: a new way to see light, to approach a subject, or to find meaning in an image. Those are the moments that linger. The ones that quietly shift how we look through the lens.

Happiness Hour has never been about perfection. It’s about paying attention. It’s about trying something new, embracing the occasional “crappy” photo, and discovering that growth often comes from simply staying curious.

Six years in, that spirit hasn’t changed. Every Wednesday night still holds the possibility of learning something unexpected, of seeing something differently, of being inspired by someone else’s way of looking at the world.

So to everyone who has shown up—whether you’ve been here since the beginning or just joined last week—thank you. And to every guest speaker who has so generously shared their time, their work, and their perspective, thank you for helping shape what Happiness Hour has become.

284 sessions later, we’re still gathering. Still learning. Still laughing.
And still making a lot of good photographs.

The In-Between Season: Photographing the Quiet Thaw

There’s a hush over the landscape when winter begins to loosen its grip—

but spring hasn’t yet found its full voice. Trees are bare. Gardens seem to

hold their breath. The light lingers longer, though the air still carries a chill. It’s easy to overlook this in-between season. We’re longing for color and impatient for blossoms. But what if this quiet thaw is one of the most poetic times to photograph? This season isn’t about spectacle. It’s about nuance.

Meltwater reflecting the sky.

Bare branches etched against pale clouds.

Flattened grasses forming abstract patterns.

The first brave bud, visible only if you slow down.

Without lush foliage, shape and structure take center stage. Lines matter. Negative space becomes powerful. Soft, diffused light feels contemplative—perfect for experimenting with mood and perspective.When nature feels dormant, look closer. Photograph structure over color. Try black and white to explore tonal richness. Seek reflections in seasonal puddles. Notice the smallest signs of awakening.

This transitional season mirrors our own in-between spaces—times when something has ended, but what’s next hasn’t fully arrived. They may feel uncertain, yet they hold quiet potential. Step outside without demanding grandeur. Trust your attention.

The thaw is happening—even if it’s almost invisible.

Finding Joy in Looking Back

Finding Joy in Looking Back

As the year winds down, photographers often find themselves doing something quietly meaningful—looking back. Scrolling through the images we made over the past twelve months isn’t just nostalgia; it’s a reminder of how much we’ve grown.

Each photograph carries a story: the new technique you finally mastered, the creative challenge you pushed yourself to try, the moment in nature that surprised you, or the scene that made you stop and breathe. When we revisit these images, we start to see patterns—stronger compositions, bolder choices, more confident editing, and a clearer sense of our own voice.

At the Happiness Hour, we celebrate those little victories. They’re easy to miss in the moment, but when you look back, you realize how much quiet progress you've made. That’s the joy of photography: every frame is a step forward, even the ones that didn’t go as planned.

So as the year comes to a close, here’s an invitation: choose your favorite photo from the past year and print it. Hold it in your hands. Hang it on a wall. Let it remind you of the work you’ve done, the joy you found, and the creative spirit that keeps you picking up your camera.

Because looking back isn’t just reflection—it’s celebration. And you’ve earned it.

Why We Photograph What We Love

Why We Photograph What We Love

Every photographer has that one subject — a place, a moment, a fleeting gesture — that calls to us again and again. It might be a familiar trail, the movement of an animal, or a cause that stirs something deep inside. These are not just photographs; they’re pieces of our purpose.

When I curated the Frames of Purpose exhibition for The Williamson Museum, I was reminded how powerful personal projects can be. Each image told a story rooted in passion — photographers exploring what they love, what they notice, and what they hope others will see. When we photograph what we love, we reveal who we are.

But creating isn’t always the hard part — sharing is.


So many of us have folders full of images we’ve never shown anyone. Maybe they feel too vulnerable, or not “ready.” Yet sharing doesn’t have to mean an exhibition. It can be as simple as showing a friend, writing a caption, or including a few images in a local event.

When we share, we give our work purpose beyond ourselves. We bring awareness to something that matters — a vanishing landscape, a quiet act of resilience, or the beauty of a place often overlooked. Even if only a few people see it, acknowledgment can ripple outward in ways we don’t expect.

Personal projects remind us why we picked up a camera in the first place. They invite us to slow down, to look closer, and to translate love — for a subject, a season, or a story — into something that endures. And when we’re brave enough to share that work, we connect more deeply not just with others, but with our own creative voice.

So, if you’ve been holding onto a project that feels too personal, too quiet, or too small — consider this your invitation. Share it. Someone out there may need to see exactly what you’ve seen.

Because in the end, that’s what photography is all about — not just capturing what we love, but letting that love be seen.

Photography, Friendship, and a Side of Queso

Back in 2017, I did something simple: I invited a few Instagram friends to meet me at a little park for a photo walk. The spot I picked turned out to be a little sketchy (thanks, Instagram), but we quickly rerouted and ended up at a local eatery—where, true to form, the night wrapped up with chips and queso. What started as a casual meetup turned into something bigger than I ever imagined.

Jon Fischer, Shari Hunt, Brad Smith, Simanta Mahanta, Chris Fitch, Lin Zabojnik, and Vineeth Radhakrishnan

Fast forward to 2020—those same DFW friends stood alongside me as presenters for the Happiness Hour. Over the years, my circle of photography friends has grown. New faces joined the group, some becoming speakers themselves. Recently, I had the joy of gathering these friends—old and new—for dinner. Watching them connect, some meeting for the very first time, reminded me why I love this community so much: photography is the thread that ties us all together. That night wasn’t just about dinner. It was about connection. About sharing stories, ideas, and laughter. About how one invitation years ago blossomed into a network of friendships and creative collaborations.

Here’s the takeaway: you don’t need to wait for a conference, a meetup, or even Happiness Hour to experience that same spark. Scroll through your feed. Think of someone whose work inspires you. Then take that leap—invite them out for a shoot. You never know where a simple “let’s go shoot” might lead

Friendships. Growth. Inspiration. Maybe even a lifelong creative posse.

So next time you’re scrolling Instagram, remember—those likes and comments are just the beginning. The real magic happens when we step out from behind our screens and share the experience of photography together.

Introduction to Scanography by Donald Simpson

Introduction to Scanography by Donald Simpson

Scanners used to be used only for making copies, faxing, creating PDFs, scanning slides, photos and photo negatives. But not anymore. They can now be used to create beautiful art with resolution and print sizes well beyond the size of the scanner. Perhaps even as large as a wall in your home. There is no other equipment to purchase or set up, then take down, making it easy to create this art within minutes of conceiving an idea. You are limited only by your imagination.

The Power of Personal Projects by Valerie Hoffman

The Power of Personal Projects by Valerie Hoffman

The Power of Personal Projects by Valerie Hoffman

At the start of a new year, lots of photographers sign themselves up for motivational photo challenges. A 365 Day project is one of the most popular. The idea is to commit to getting out and creating a new image EVERY SINGLE DAY. In addition, you need to edit and get it posted online – maybe to your own personal social media page, or one as a part of a larger group doing the same thing.

Your Brand Your Story by Jama Pantel

Your Brand Your Story by Jama Pantel

Your Brand Your Story by Jama Pantel

Are you playful, serious, sarcastic, authoritative? How do you want to be perceived? Think of what is most true to you so that you can perfectly reflect your brand. However, since your brand is a reflection of you, it’s forever changing and growing. So, give yourself some grace.