Creative Imposter Syndrome

Jamie Panico
Apr 17
4 min read

Super Creative Yet Super Doubtful

I'm no superhero, but I believe I am super creative. But that doesn't stop me from doubting myself at times. Feeling like I don't deserve the achievements I've earned, or I'm not as good as I think. Imposter syndrome lurks in the shadows of the creative world, affecting artists across all disciplines. It's that nagging voice that whispers "you don't belong here" despite evidence to the contrary. Photographers, designers, writers, and performers alike experience this phenomenon—questioning their talents, challenging their worth, and feeling like frauds waiting to be exposed. In creative fields where subjective judgment often determines "success," these feelings can be particularly intense. What makes imposter syndrome so pervasive among creatives is the constant exposure to others' work, inevitably leading to comparison and self-doubt. Yet understanding this shared struggle is the first step toward finding our authentic artistic voice.

The Unexpected Invitation

A few weeks ago, I was invited to join a fire photoshoot at the iconic House of Yes (HOY) in Brooklyn, New York, thanks to my dear friend Angela (whom you met in my last blog post). The fire photoshoot took place on a Monday night—ugh, right after a long day of work. But I couldn't pass up the opportunity to witness other brilliant artists in their element. So I grabbed my gear and headed to HOY.

Navigating Professional Courtesy

There I was, formally introduced by the event organizer, Cinder Petrichor (Instagram @cinderpetrichor), an extraordinary fire performer. I've captured Cinder's radiance with fire at past events. She then introduced me to her resident photographer Sean Scott (Instagram @seanscott). In situations like these, where there's a resident photographer and I'm the guest, I make sure not to intrude and give priority to the professional who has established relationships with both performers and the venue.

Witnessing Creative Mastery

I watched, spellbound, as Sean orchestrated the scene—directing the crew to adjust lighting, add smoke or bubbles to the background, and guiding the model's positioning. It was like watching poetry in motion. The fire's hypnotic dance sparked my excitement to unpack my gear and join the creative flow.

Some techniques were new territory for me, so I experimented and simply savored being there. Chatting with performers, I discovered most had either come from a full day's work or were heading to their jobs shortly after. The creative and performing arts worlds are filled with these devoted souls—people whose passion must be funded by day or night jobs. We're all in this together, and I felt genuine awe seeing how many artists showed up on a Monday night to participate.

Technical Challenges & Adaptations

As I began shooting, excitement built with each preview on my camera screen, especially considering I wasn't using my ideal lens. I was working with my Tamron 28-200mm f/2.8-5.6. My Sigma 35mm f/1.4 might have been better (with its superior low-light capability and beautiful bokeh effect), but I wanted to stay out of Sean's way, and the telephoto allowed me to capture from a distance. The challenge was the variable aperture—f/2.8 at 28mm and a limiting f/5.6 at 200mm—with flash photography prohibited. I trusted that stage lighting and fire would compensate for the low-light conditions.

The outcomes were promising—ambient light dancing with fire, creating surprisingly sharp images. I couldn't wait to bring these to life in post-processing. After exhausting one battery and filling a 128GB memory card plus half of another, I was eager to transfer thousands of photos to my computer. In reality, I imported about 350 and ultimately edited between 50-100.

The Shadow of Self-Doubt

Throughout my photography journey, something has remained consistent: among the sea of photographers, many have praised my distinctive style—particularly my editing approach using matte black to elevate colors. I didn't invent this technique; I've seen others employ it, but I've made it uniquely mine.

Then came my mistake: I looked at Sean's fantastic work and questioned my own. His mastery of the environment produced stunning results—rich blacks and vibrant colors creating breathtaking imagery. Shamefully, I attempted to mimic his style. While I didn't hate the results, they left me feeling empty, as though I was betraying my creative identity.

Understanding Imposter Syndrome

Imposter syndrome is that psychological shadow where, despite evidence of your competence and accomplishments, you experience persistent self-doubt and fear of being exposed as a fraud. This definition perfectly captured my feelings in that moment. This shadow doesn't just haunt my photography—it follows me in graphic design too. Despite years climbing the corporate ladder to my current position as Creative Manager, there are days I question whether I deserve my achievements. Deep down, I know I do! But that doesn't prevent those doubts from occasionally surfacing.

I find solace knowing imposter syndrome is common, especially among high achievers. I consider myself one, constantly striving to enhance my skills and artistic vision.

Reclaiming Authenticity

After that brief attempt to edit my photo in another photographer's style, I said "fuck no!" and returned to my creative approach—the one that's earned appreciation and recognition. Regardless of my momentary insecurity, staying true to my artistic voice was non-negotiable. My work may not equal another's, but it's authentically mine. It's what distinguishes me in a crowded creative landscape.

There will always be photographers and designers whose work surpasses mine—and that's perfectly fine. There will always be seasoned photographers with knowledge I've yet to acquire, or emerging designers mastering innovative techniques.

What matters most? Authenticity.

Information abounds for improving skills; rather than obsessing over replicating others, I need to focus on my own growth, regardless of my experience level. Art remains subjective—what one person treasures, another might dismiss.

Gratitude & Moving Forward

The photoshoot was truly a gift, and I'm grateful to Cinder and Sean for welcoming my participation. I hope to join more events and continue developing my craft. Speaking of incredible opportunities, Cinder is preparing an amazing fire show on April 24th called the House of Fire. Please support local artists—if you can attend this spectacular event, find tickets clicking the photo below.