What Made You WANT To Go Into Photography?

People ask me this question often — what made you want to become a photographer?
The honest answer isn’t a single moment. It was a slow pull, shaped by curiosity, creativity, and a deep love for where I live.

Photography didn’t start as a career plan for me. It started as a way of paying attention.

Where It Really Began

My connection to photography is rooted in South Jersey. I’ve always felt drawn to its quiet beauty — the changing seasons, the overlooked landscapes, the way light moves through familiar places. Long before I ever photographed families, I wanted to document what I saw and how it felt to live here.

How I got started in photography. It is not great or award-winning, but still my babies!

As a teenager and young adult, I was constantly creating. My mom studied fashion design, and I grew up surrounded by fabric, texture, and color. I worked in interior decorating, learned how spaces come together, and developed a natural eye for composition without realizing that’s what I was doing.

Around that same time, I discovered my dad’s old Nikon F3 while going through boxes. Film photography was still very much a thing then — no instant previews, no screens to check. You took the photo, sent the film out, and waited. Sometimes for a week. Sometimes longer.

You had no idea what you were going to get back.

And that uncertainty? I loved it.

My little doll baby.

Learning Through Doing

At first, everything was trial and error. I didn’t know the rules yet — and that was a gift. Slowly, images started to come back that felt right. The light worked. The composition felt balanced. Something clicked.

I bought my first point-and-shoot camera in 2005. It had five megapixels, which felt huge at the time. I had recently moved back to South Jersey after living in Pennsylvania for several years, and I started noticing everything again — fields, trees, water, quiet roads. Photography shifted from curiosity to serious hobby.

In 2010, I bought my first “real” camera. I learned it inside and out. I studied constantly. I practiced relentlessly. Some of that early work was published, and that experience only fueled my desire to keep learning.

Photography wasn’t just something I enjoyed — it became something I needed.

The Shift to Portraits

In 2011, everything changed again.

I transitioned from landscape photography into portraits for one simple reason: I wanted to take better photos of my son. I didn’t want perfection. I wanted honesty. I wanted to document childhood in a way that felt real.

One child became two. Cameras upgraded. Lenses multiplied. Skills sharpened. Along the way, I published books, wrote extensively, and continued photographing South Jersey in every season.

What never changed was my approach: learn, refine, repeat.

A frozen lake in South Jersey.

What Photography Means to Me Now

Photography is often misunderstood as “just taking pictures.” That’s the easy part.

What matters more is learning how to see — light, emotion, connection, timing. Learning how to work with people. How to guide without forcing. How to create an experience that feels calm instead of rushed.

There’s a technical side. An artistic side. A business side. And a deeply human side.

You have to love all of it to stay in this profession long term.

And I do.

What still drives me today is the same thing that pulled me in years ago: creating something meaningful. I love watching families relax during a session. I love seeing parents recognize moments they didn’t realize were happening. I love delivering images that feel honest, timeless, and personal.

A Deep Knowledge of Place

After more than a decade of photographing throughout South Jersey, I’ve explored countless locations — some familiar, some remote, all chosen with intention. That knowledge comes from years of paying attention, not shortcuts.

Place matters. Light matters. Experience matters.

And I bring all of that into every session.

Rock and Gigi in the yard in Woodstown.

Still Learning, Always Creating

Photography continues to evolve, and so do I. I’m always learning, refining, and working on new projects — writing, photographing, and documenting the world around me.

It’s not always easy. It’s rarely quiet. But it’s always worth it.

This work has been my calling for a long time — and I’m grateful every day that I get to do it.

Warmly,
Dee Giumetti

If you’d like to learn more about my approach to photographing families today, you can read about The Shooting Star Experience here.