Building a Creative Career While Working Full Time: What No One Tells You

Working a full‑time job when you’re a creative person is… complicated. There’s this constant pull between passion and responsibility — between the life you dream of building and the life you need to maintain right now.

The life I want is simple: to travel, to explore, to chase light across coastlines and capture landscapes that make me feel alive.

The life I have is a 9–5. A good job, a stable job, one that’s given me opportunities and shaped who I am today. I’m grateful for it — truly. But at the same time, my mind is always wandering. Always imagining. Always thinking about how I can create more, see more, photograph more.

No one really prepares you for how heavy that tension can feel. You can love your job and still crave something different. You can be grateful and still dream bigger. Both things can be true at the same time.

And yes, I laugh at myself sometimes — because don’t they say if you keep dreaming about something long enough, it eventually comes true? Maybe that’s naïve. Maybe it’s hopeful. Maybe it’s both.

But I keep dreaming anyway.

People often assume that if you’re a photographer, you’re out shooting every weekend, chasing sunsets, filling memory cards, living in a constant state of inspiration. But the truth is far less romantic. Some weekends are for the gym. Some are for errands. Some are for doing absolutely nothing because your brain is fried from the week. And some weekends, even when you could go out and shoot, you simply don’t have it in you.

And that’s something I’ve had to learn to accept.

Melville Point Lookout Tomakin NSW

The Moment I Realised I Was Creating for Everyone But Myself

At the beginning of this year, I thought it would be a good idea to offer boudoir sessions for extra income. It made sense on paper: I enjoy empowering women, I love creating beautiful images, and the reactions — the tears, the smiles, the “I’ve never seen myself like this” moments — were genuinely special.

But somewhere along the way, I had to ask myself a hard question:

Who was I doing this for?

Because when I stripped it back, the answer wasn’t me.

I wasn’t building a long‑term vision. I wasn’t following a deep creative pull. I wasn’t exploring a style that lit me up inside. I was doing it for extra cash, for external validation, for the feeling of being “productive” as a photographer.

And in the process, I started losing the one thing that mattered most: my enjoyment of photography.

I was creating for everyone but myself.

And that realisation hit harder than I expected.

The Beauty of Slow Growth

Stepping back from boudoir wasn’t a failure — it was a recalibration. A reminder that not every opportunity is meant to be pursued, and not every skill needs to become a service.

I had to return to what I love: the coastline, the quiet, the colours of sunrise, the way the world feels before it fully wakes up.

Landscape photography has always been my anchor. It’s where I breathe differently. It’s where I feel most like myself.

And the truth is, slow growth suits me. I don’t need to quit my job to be a “real” photographer. I don’t need to shoot every weekend to stay connected to my craft. I don’t need to chase every trend or monetise every idea.

Some creative careers are built in the gaps — in the early mornings, the late nights, the stolen moments between work and life. Some careers grow quietly, steadily, without urgency or pressure.

And that’s okay.

How I Manage My Time (And My Energy)

I’ve learned that time management isn’t the real challenge — energy management is.

Some weeks, I’m overflowing with ideas. Other weeks, I’m just trying to get through my to‑do list at work.

So instead of forcing creativity, I let things happen naturally.

• I plan future shoots while commuting.

• I revisit old galleries and see them with new eyes.

• I do alot of googling locations (yes I use google and I love it)

• I also use ChatGTP ( I cheat and get it to tell me the weather patterns)

• I let the gym reset my mind.

• I allow rest to be part of the process.

Photography isn’t just the act of taking photos — it’s the way you see the world, even when you’re not holding a camera.

What No One Tells You

No one tells you that you can love photography deeply and still not have the time to do it every week.

No one tells you that turning your passion into income can sometimes dilute the joy that made you start in the first place.

No one tells you that stepping back can be just as important as pushing forward.

No one tells you that your creative career can grow slowly, quietly, beautifully — even while you work full time.

And no one tells you that it’s okay to choose the path that feels right for you, even if it doesn’t look like what everyone else is doing.

Coming Back to Myself - Building a Creative Career on my own terms

This year taught me something I didn’t expect: I don’t want to create for the sake of creating. I don’t want to chase every opportunity. I don’t want to build a career that looks good on the outside but feels empty on the inside.

I want to create from a place of joy. From a place of curiosity. From a place of genuine connection to the landscapes I love.

And that’s enough.

Slow growth is still growth. A full-time job doesn’t make you less of an artist. And choosing yourself — your vision, your passion, your pace — is the most important creative decision you’ll ever make.