“You have a weird brain”: a creative turning point

“You have a weird brain.”

I sat across from the Director of Photography of a nationally circulated magazine. We were on Zoom, mid-portfolio review. She paused, looked at my work, and said it: “You have a weird brain.”

Sorry...what? I laughed. “I guess I do.”

Earlier this year, I participated in a virtual portfolio review—a full day of one-on-one sessions with agency founders, reps, photo editors, and consultants.  I came in with work I thought was polished and professional. You know, the kind of stuff I saw everyone else doing. I hoped for exposure, clarity, direction, and maybe a little encouragement. Instead, what I got was something better: permission.

Across the board, the message was clear:

Eh, this new stuff? It’s fine. But wait—what’s this? Is that bologna? And you found this other thing off the street? This is amazing. Do more of this.

Again and again: Follow your creative instincts. Be weird. Stand out. Have fun. Stay true to yourself. Clients will find you.

That one sentence—“You have a weird brain”—stuck. It wasn’t polished or prescriptive but it was succinct and cut through the noise. It felt like a gift. It felt like truth. Suddenly, I had an artistic motto; my own creative north star.

In a creative world that can sometimes reward sameness, I’m learning to zig when others zag. To lean harder into the playful, the surreal, the unsettling, the strangely familiar. To follow the ideas that make me laugh or tilt my head. Because why not.

Is my work for everyone? No. 
Will it cause confusion or discomfort? Probably. 
Does it feel scary sometimes? Absolutely. 

And that’s okay. That’s what happens when you trust your gut and walk your own path. I’m learning to have faith in the process. I’m learning to have fun with the process. My people will find me. If you build it, they will come and all that.

Did you know that weird brains win awards? Bologna with pearls on styrofoam placed second in the 2024 APA Awards for Food/Still Life. Proof that strange can be both striking and memorable.

This is an open invitation: show me your weird brains.

I want to see what you’re making. I want to see the ideas that feel too out-there, too silly, too personal. Because you know what? You’re the only one who can do what you do.