Dear friends,

A few weeks ago, I turned down an exciting, paid client shoot.

Inside this issue:

• Why I walked away from a cool project

• Why saying no was a proud professional moment

• A kind, clear way to say “this isn’t a fit”

• 5 takeaways for protecting your creative values and boundaries

• To break up the text some unrelated portrait work I haven’t shown before.

Before we dive into this story, a reminder:

Coming Soon: 100 Days To Build Your Creative Habit

On August 17th, pre-orders open for Process Workbook III: A 100-Day Creative Habit, which is a tool to help you finish the year strong, one photo at a time.

Starting September 11th, we’ll build a small daily photography habit together for the final 100 days of the year. It’s low pressure but high impact. Here are some of the micro prompts:

• Day 9 — Photograph something within arm’s length from where you wake up.

• Day 14 — Find the smallest object in your room and make it look monumental.

• Day 32 — Make a photo that feels like a mistake.

Each one takes less than five minutes, but they’ll shift how you see and build that habit of noticing and making. Mark your calendar for August 17th!

A Project That Started With Promise

A few weeks ago, I got a message from an artist whose work I genuinely admire. They were gearing up for a big new project and wanted someone to document the process, both in stills and video. Not just behind-the-scenes, but also a photo documentary approach to project and a related performance.

We hopped on a call and it was the kind you hope for with a new client. It was open, curious, creative, and with lots of mutual respect. I shared some ideas that could great stretch the project’s reach and impact without stretching the budget. They were into it.

With that in mind, and knowing they were on a shoe string budget, I offered a significantly reduced rate. That’s not something I do often. But this felt like the right moment to say yes to. Not just because I liked the artist, but because the project felt like it could be approached in a way that would amplify it for the artist, but also positively impact everyone involved and the creative community at large.

And then… things shifted.

After we agreed on creative direction and budget, I was handed off to someone on the management team. Totally normal. That’s usually when you fine-tune details and get contracts sorted.

But the energy changed fast.

What Changed (and Why I Had to Walk Away)

What started as a creative partnership started to feel like something else. There were suddenly rigid restrictions on how the work could be used, even by myself and my team, even after the project launched.

And we weren’t talking about normal licensing boundaries. These were blanket limitations that didn’t match the spirit of the project, nor the significantly reduced fee I had agreed to, nor industry standards.. Unreasonably limited portfolio use was one of the major red flags.

It felt less like trust, and more like control.

And it didn’t make sense. The restrictions weren’t protecting the project. They were limiting the organic support that would help it thrive when the entire team would promote and share glimpses about the project. It felt like a decision made out of inexperience, not malice. It felt like a lose-lose.

Still, the result was the same: the collaboration had broken down.

So I walked away.

The Calm Power of “No”

In the past, I might’ve pushed through, compromising my values or getting angry behind the scenes. But after doing this for many years, I have the experience now to be able to say no.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t emotional. It was just clear.

There was a fundamental misalignment: around budget, creative trust, and the nature of the relationship. They needed someone to deliver a low-cost, high-quality shoot, and retain no rights. That’s one kind of model. But it’s not mine.

I sent a kind, direct message explaining that I was stepping back, including my reasoning. I also introduced them to another filmmaker who might be a better fit.

After sending the note, I felt relief and pride. I had protected something that mattered to me, my boundaries and values, and I’d done it without burning bridges. I am still on good terms with the artist, and I hope to collaborate on something else in the future.

Because that’s what boundaries are for.

Boundaries aren’t a reaction. They’re preparation.

What Are Your Boundaries?

Boundaries protect your time, your energy, and the integrity of your work. And they’re a lot easier to hold when you’ve already thought them through.

Here are a few questions I asked myself to crystalize mine:

• What kind of relationships do I want in my work?

• Where’s the line I won’t cross, even for a “dream” project?

• Can I say no with clarity and generosity when I need to?

We don’t have to get angry. We don’t have to keep explaining ourselves to someone who isn’t listening. We just need to know what we’re protecting, and trust ourself.

Takeaways and Lessons Learned

• Resentment is a signal. If you feel yourself bracing, defending, or over-explaining, that’s your boundary is popping up. Take a moment and listen.

• Boundaries are a kindness. They protect your time and energy and help others understand how to work with you.

• You don’t have to over-explain. A calm “this isn’t the right fit” is often enough.

• Client education has limits. If you’re repeating yourself and still not being heard, it’s okay to stop. You don’t owe endless labor.

• Saying no doesn’t burn bridges. Tone matters more than length when you’re saying no. You can be brief, clear, and kind at the same time.

Do you know anyone who could benefit from these tips? Do me a favor and share this issue with them. It helps me a lot in getting the Process word out. Thank you.

Share

This Week’s Small Step

Before the moment comes, get clear on what matters most. Write down one kind of creative relationship you want more of. What does it feel like?

Now draft one sentence you’d feel good using if you ever need to say: “This isn’t the right fit.”

If you want to share it in the comments, I’d love to read it, and I know others would too.

Leave a comment

Let’s keep shooting, learning, and sharing together. One messy, human step at a time.

Warmly,
Wesley

P.S. Last Sunday on NPO Radio 1, I read an essay I wrote about my afternoon with Bruce Davidson. You can listen to it here (in Dutch).

📷 What I Used This Week

People often ask what I’m using and here’s this week’s setup:

Camera: Pentax 67ii. Pentax LX. Kodak Tri-X disposable, Fuji X100F.

My current digital go-to set up is the Canon EOS R5 and the Canon RF 24-70 mm f/2.8 L IS USM lens.

This issue is supported by MPB.com, which is my personal go-to for buying, selling, or trading used gear. Everything comes with a 6-month warranty.

This issue is also supported by picdrop.com, which my preferred tool for building online galleries to let my clients review, select, and download photos from shoots. Use “PROCESS” at checkout to get a free 2-month trial.

Lab: My film is processed by Carmencita Film Lab. I trust them fully for both their work and their humanity. Use code "PROCESS" for a free upgrade on your next order.

Next Week

What a burger place and a Michelin-starred restaurant taught me about being a photographer. Is it a The Bear x Process cross-over? No, but it’s also NOT not that.

How You Can Support Process?

If these Sunday issues give you something, energy, motivation, a new way of seeing. you can support Process by picking up a book or joining the Process Photo Club.

• Process Workbook Volume One & Two: Creative prompts and assignments designed to get you out of your head and into action with your camera.

  • €8.99 each (free for Process Photo Club members)

📚 Order here and you help keep Process accessible to all.

🗃️ Browse the Process Archives.
📜 Read the Process Manifesto.
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