You don't need the expensive lens yet
Let's get this one out of the way early, because it comes up every single time I teach this class. Somebody asks me what lens they should buy, usually within the first ten minutes, and my answer disappoints them.
You don't need one. Not yet.
I know the lens everybody wants. The one that gets that soft, melted-butter background behind a sharp subject. It looks expensive because it is expensive, and it's the first thing new photographers save up for because it's the most visible difference between "phone photo" and "real photo." I get the appeal. I wanted it too.
But here's my honest opinion, and I'll die on this hill: most people buy equipment to avoid learning the thing the equipment is supposed to teach them. If you can't nail focus and exposure on the kit lens you already have, a fancier lens just gives you the same mistakes with a prettier blur behind them. Get good with what's in your hands first. The gear is not the bottleneck. You are, and I say that with love, because I was too.
What to actually do with the lens you have
This week I want you to spend time on three things, and none of them cost money.
Learn where your lens is sharp. Every lens, even a basic kit one, has a sweet spot. Usually it's a couple stops down from wide open. Take the same subject — a person, a stuffed animal, whatever's willing to sit still — and shoot it at every aperture your lens allows. Look at the results on a real screen, not your phone. You'll see the difference. That's information you now own forever, and no amount of money changes that lesson.
Get close, then get closer. New photographers stand too far back and crop later. Don't. Walk toward your subject until the frame feels almost uncomfortably tight, then back off just slightly. Most portraits fail because there's too much empty space doing nothing.
Check your edges before you check the face. This is the one I'll repeat until I'm hoarse. Your eye goes straight to the person's expression and it should, but train yourself to scan the frame's border first. Top, bottom, both sides. Backgrounds ruin more portraits than bad expressions ever do.
I learned this one the hard way, and I mean the hard way. My very first attempt at what I'd call a real portrait was of my husband William in our backyard. I set him up, got the light right, felt very proud of myself. Went through every frame later and there it was, in every single shot: our garbage can, lid slightly askew, sitting right behind his shoulder like a guest of honor. I had been so locked onto his face that I never once looked at what else was in the picture. Now I check corners obsessively, every time, before I ever touch the shutter. It became a habit because it had to.
A simple exercise for this week
Set up a person (or a very patient pet) near a window, no flash, no fancy background. Just clean light and whatever's on the wall behind them. Take twenty frames. For ten of them, only adjust your aperture. For the other ten, only adjust where you're standing. Don't touch anything else.
Then go look at all twenty side by side. You'll start to see which changes actually move the needle for your camera and your eye, which is worth more to you right now than any lens purchase. Your mileage may vary on which aperture you end up liking, honestly, that's a personal preference thing once you know what your options are.
One real caution here: if you're shooting toward a window with bright afternoon sun, watch your subject's eyes. Don't have anyone stare directly into strong sun for a shot, even briefly, it's uncomfortable and unnecessary. Angle them so the light hits from the side or slightly behind you instead. Same effect, nobody squinting or straining.
Before next time
Shoot that window-light exercise if you can, even just with a phone if the camera isn't handy yet, and bring a couple frames you're proud of and one you're not so sure about. We'll look at both. The confused ones are usually more useful to talk about anyway.