Find solace among the hills.

I've always found solace in the embrace of the hills. Urban landscapes, while at times unavoidable, don't hold the same allure for me. True tranquillity, for me, resides in the serenity of open spaces and hushed surroundings.

I am fortunate to reside on the outskirts of the Peak District, a truly diverse and captivating landscape. Nestled between two sprawling urban areas, it serves as a sanctuary for those seeking respite from the hustle and bustle of city life. Since my youth, I have fostered a profound connection with this place, with cherished memories of family walks and adventures with friends introducing me to its rugged hills and defining gritstone edges. As the week's demands dissipate and the anxieties subside, leaving the confines of urban life behind, the rolling hills and the promise of rejuvenation come into view. Each step forward, boots laced and bag packed, brings a palpable sense of relief and release. I do believe this is the power of nature.

As we look back on the past, we often find ourselves reminiscing about simpler times. With each passing year, life seems to become more much noiser, with the clamour of the world drowning out softer, more meaningful voices. Media coverage often emphasizes strife and divsion, further amplifying the discord. However, as we age, our outlook shifts and the tranquillity of nature offers respite from these clamours. For me, landscape photography serves as a vessel, preserving the timeless allure of the Peak District and evoking the nostalgia of my early years.

Looking for Trees.

We have had one too many grey days throughout January and into February. Typically they can be difficult months to navigate, not only photographically but generally in our day to day.

As we wait the anticipation of spring, slowly moving from the winter slumbers, days begin to lengthen, edging quietly lighter and energy returns. Right on the edge of winter we recently had a bright and frosty morning. Packing the bag I headed out for a walk. In the early hours of the day, unsurprisingly the Peak District was already busy with people out making the most of a rare sunny morning.

There was a chill to the air, cold and frosty. Pockets of mist lay silent in the valleys. With the usual places busy, I decided to explore a place I had been wanting to visit. It sits at the bottom of a valley by a river and the place was thick with fog, hanging heavy in the air. After plenty of rainfall, the water was raging, flowing fast with a deafening sound.

As I made my way along the rivers edge, the mist and fog began to lift, the water slowed and the noise of the river eased, gently being replaced by the birdsong and soft breeze through the trees. Down muddy paths, over old wooden bridges, I past farmland with grazing sheep huddled together to keep away the mornings chill. Wonderful willow and alder trees lined the river bank, making a little nod towards the water flowing beneath.

Walking by the river, although a beautiful morning and great conditions in the little pockets of woodland, nothing was catching my eye. ‘Looking for Trees’ was proving difficult. I took a seat by the waters edge, watching the play of light in the moving flow. Trees above my position mirrored back, creating lovely shapes in the motion of the gentle waves. Finally I'd found my trees.

I created a series of images from this space. Enjoying the slow pace and quiet time, experimenting with shutter speed and composition. It was an enjoyable couple of hours, finding somewhere new and seeing images I hadn't expected. ‘Looking for Trees’ with a different perspective.



Go with the Flow.

How can we achieve more personally expressive images with our photography? It is a question that's on my mind often and one that challenges us to keep improving and evolving in our work. As people, we constantly change and evolve, based on our life experiences, the people we meet, and the people we lose. These feelings and emotions mold us and create who we are in the present. They are actually fundamental to our personality. All these elements shape us, and shape the way we see the world.
The lives we lead can be chaotic and noisy. Society these days has more ways to grab our attention, and not always, I would even say most of the time, for the better. It can leave us with very little left in our attention span, so where and who we choose to lend our attention is important. Particularly in photography, the more conscious we are of our work, the better we can enjoy the experience. I find that when I'm out in the landscape, firstly I take time to adjust to the environment. I listen and observe. I leave the camera in the bag and just take a little breath and enjoy. It is in many ways a meditative state, living in the moment allows us to really immerse ourselves within Nature. This approach serves to help my photography become more expressive and more personal. This experience is as important as trying to make a photograph. So, by being present and connected with our surroundings, we can capture images that truly reflect our inner thoughts and emotions.





The Fear.

Prior to going out with the intent to look for pictures, I can often get the "fear" that I won't see compositions, that I will have lost the ability to see. My last picture made, was literally the last! I'm quite an anxious person by nature, so these feelings generally can be common in my mind. Of course, this doesn't stop me from venturing out. We must fight the fear! Thus, I strap on the boots, pack the equipment, and head out into the unexpected.
The closer I get to the outdoors, away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life, these feelings gradually dissipate. Once immersed in the environment, I find it curious that, after feeling the cloud of doubt, sometimes a picture can show itself. Many have asked me how I find a picture, and it is such a difficult question to answer. It can depend on our mood, as some images reveal themselves more obviously than others. I always believe that we should let the landscape find us. It could be just a passing glimpse as we wander, suggesting that there is something worth exploring. Perhaps it's tangled up in a wider view, teasing us to stop and explore further. This is where the joy lies.
From the moment we become absorbed by the scene, stopping, slowing down, and living in the moment as if time is standing still, we realize that the landscape doesn't always give up the view easily. Sometimes, we have to accept defeat, at least for the time being. We can hope that maybe next time we pass this way, the view will become clear. However, just occasionally, we find the view that first showed itself, and our hearts beat a little faster. It is in these moments that the true enjoyment of photography lies, trying to work out the puzzle that the landscape presents us with.

Exhibiton.

Recently I had the chance to exhibit work at the Dronfield Barn in a collaboration with Chris Nowell. I thoroughly enjoyed the experience from planning to the hanging of the work. It was a chance to really look at my images and examine how they work differently off the screen and onto the wall. It was chance to take images I hadn’t printed previously and see them in greater detail on paper. A huge learning curve. I print all my own work up to A3 using my canon Pro 10 and after many years settled on two papers from Fotospeed, a semi gloss Baryta and a wonderful matt platinum etching paper.

The exhibtion lasted for a week and the biggest highlight was to meet all the people that made an effort to vist the Barn. Making a connection in person to like minded creatives was a real joy, not just photographers but artists and painters alike. Talking about image making and different creatives processes has certainly helped my thoughts on picture making in the future.

I would like to thank anyone that came. It was very much appreciated and I look forward to connecting with you again!

More than a photograph.

I often ask workshop clients why they take photographs. It's a question that may not have previously crossed their minds, but one that I believe is important to consider. When I pondered this question for myself, truly reflecting on the reasons behind my photography, I found it to be a valuable exercise in my artistic growth. It's all too easy to succumb to external pressures and allow them to hinder our expression and creativity. There is no right or wrong answer to why we take photographs; ultimately, our pursuit should bring us happiness and fulfillment. However, if we become too fixated on pleasing others, seeking comments and likes, the resulting pressure can be stifling.

Life is hectic for all of us, filled with the ebb and flow of successes and challenges, up and downs. Photography is an escape, a release valve for all the built-up pressure we face. It grants us a moment of respite, allowing us to embark on a journey of exploration. As we immerse ourselves in the act of creating, our brains come alive, sparking connections and fostering positive experiences. If we can move away from the external pressures, our work can begin to take on a much more personal approach. Slowly we can develop our own style, build up a collection of work that brings greater satisfaction. And though there may be no simple shortcuts or quick fixes, it is precisely this challenging journey that brings us immense pleasure and gratification, for it is through the process of making mistakes and learning from them that we experience real growth and progress as creative individuals. The act of photography is much more than just a photograph!


After the light.

This scene will be a familiar view to many. The “Kit Kat” stones are a popular focal point from this rocky outcrop with stunning views into Derbyshire. The jovial name, belies the history and brutality of this exposed landscape. Around 2000 years ago this place was probably an iron age hill fort, perfectly positioned for a natural defensive structure high above the valley, but also perfectly positioned for the harsh elements of nature.

I visited on a cold, wet and blustery November morning, wrapped in winter clothing I was pretty content and warm as I searched for a composition,  my mind wandered thinking how difficult life here would have been in winter 2000 years ago. 

Although cloudy I was treated to a colourful sunrise, a slither of a gap was just enough to allow the red colours of the rising sun through illuminating the wet gritstone rocks. The light was glorious but brief. Seeing in a new day can be a short but exhilarating experience. With fast moving clouds the weather soon became much bleaker, a grey soft light blanketed the landscape. 

I felt I hadn’t really captured anything particularly worth while with the early colourful light and began to observe the changing conditions. Although now there was no direct light, the sunlight illuminated the rocks like a giant softbox creating depth and texture. Rain clouds began to roll in and the atmosphere began to build. 

This popular scene, well photographed, can leave me feeling a little underwhelmed creativity. The composition in not overly original, however I still enjoyed placing the elements within the frame and using the light. 

This bleak and almost monotone image actually relates to me more. It really reflects the many cold and windy mornings I’ve experienced here. It also connects me to the life that people would have experienced here in winter. I can only imagine how difficult living here must have been back then. Quite different to enjoying this landscape for pleasure. My images of the Peak District can often be a little nod to the history of this place. Taking a moment to reflect on the people that once called this place home.


The Beauty of Imperfection.


The photograph below was taken a few years ago. It was shot handheld while wandering a location one late summers evening, a reaction to the conditions. It was a beautifully warm end to the day although a little windy, with the low summer sun burning through the canopy. When I first captured this image, I felt I had messed up photographing this quiet view struggling with a few technical issues. However, over the years it’s grown on me, with repeated views and minor edits it has become a favourite - those initials flaws became a wonderful reminder of that evening walk; the emotion, the smell, sounds and warmth of summertime. A unique moment of time.

Throughout learning the craft of photography, I have realised that technical perfection is not and shouldn't be the primary function of a photograph. All too often I have focused on the technicalities when making images. Of course sharp, correctly exposed images are a baseline, however, this should not come at the expense of adding emotion and feeling to the picture. The term perfection is a very subjective thing. It could be argued that actual perfection is impossible to attain. As a society, it seems more and more we seek perfection. Perfection can give rise to pressure and lead to being unhappy. The phrase to be a perfectionist does not necessarily mean one’s images are perfect, it perhaps just suggests we care about the process, motivation and dedication required to master the craft.

While thinking about this subject and my image, I began to link my thoughts with a popular topic of discussion at the moment, AI. There are many opinions around as to where this technology will lead us. It can feel overwhelming. Suggestions are we are either on a path to Nivarna or oblivion! It is a discussion that would probably need a whole new post.

Looking through the prism of photography, certainly the pace of development is frighteningly quick. With the use of AI technology we have the ability to create any image in “perfect” conditions, devoid of “imperfections” through keywords and computer power in minutes. We can produce wow images without leaving home. Already, commercially, we have software and apps that are usable to create viable images. However, with each advancement it does feel like the layers of skills required are being peeled away to just the push of a button or a prompt on a keyboard. With regards to photojournalism, when viewing pictures we shall now always have to have one eye on AI and have stringent regulation for authenticity. AI leads me to question what is the future of image making? I think it is acceptable to say that AI is not photography, after all the meaning of the word photography is ‘to capture or to draw with light’. Therefore, in my opinion, AI created images are not photography, but a form of digital art. I believe the wording we use is important to describe and differentiate between these visual communications. With a little honesty and transparency this will allow both forms of creation to sit happily side by side.

And back to this woodland scene. I think the lack of perfection, the reality of being out in nature is what will keep the uniqueness and longevity of our beloved pastime; it adds a touch of our own personality and emotion. As landscape photographers, it is the experience we need just as much as the image. With a potential influx of “perfect” scenes, will the viewer eventually come back to crave the real, the human imperfection, the ““unique moment” in time and enjoy the experience that was seen through the photographers eyes? When out again, I want to embrace imperfection, just as in our lives, lack of perfection is what makes things interesting. So head out and enjoy the perfect imperfection in everything.

As featured in Outdoor Photography Sept 23.

Familiarity & Patience.

I have visited the location, below, every summer for the last four years or so. It’s littered with dry stone walls and meandering paths, zig-zagging among long grasses and green waist high bracken. Something about this place draws me back. Although, on each visit I’ve failed to make any photographs I’m happy with, every trip here has brought a familiarity. Treading the paths has brought a little more knowledge; bringing a connection to place and a stepping stone to capturing a picture.

The evening looked promising and I spent time wandering and looking for compositions. I had nothing particular in mind and I find the practise relaxes me into the steady flow of enjoying the walk and picture making. I have always liked these stone walls that cut their way through the fields, broken once in a while by old stone gateway posts. There is a lovely connection between the stone of these walls and the imposing gritstone edge high above. No doubt they are of the same; crafted from skill and hard work, both serving and being part of this wonderful landscape.

I settled on this scene, the grasses and bracken look just right, with the stone wall leading the eye through the picture. I knew the sun would set to the left of the picture and create some much needed side light. There was one problem. I felt for this picture to fully work, the sky needed drama as it took the top half of the view. As I stood with camera in position, above me the sky was clear blue. I decided to wait it out, but as the sun become lower it looked like, once again, this location would offer no results for my efforts.

Reluctantly I packed up and headed back to the car.  Driving away I noticed a change, clouds had begun to build. Cursing my lack of patience I returned, hurrying back to my intended spot. With minutes before the sun disappeared behind the hills, I managed to take this frame. Although rushed and initially thinking I missed the light, I was reasonably happy with the end result. I often tell clients to have patience with a scene, something I didn’t adhere to here. However, with an element of luck and familiarity of the place it just about paid off. Next time, however, I will have a little more patience.

Peak district landscape photography

Podcast.

I recently had the pleasure of chatting to Matt Payne on his wonderful Podcast about all things photography. You can find the details on the link below. If you produce a podcast please get in touch, it would be great to talk photography ! :)

https://www.mattpaynephotography.com/gallery/uk-peak-district-matt-oliver/


State of Grace.

Photographing woodlands is a very popular genre of photography. It's easy to see why. Time out alone among trees can be such a pleasure, you could say mediative. The sounds and the smells; the experience grounds us, separated from the hustle and bustle of daily life. We can slip into a state of flow, fully focused. I once heard this feeling called a "state of grace", a wonderful way to describe this mindset.

Unfortunately, for myself at least, being in the flow is something I have to work hard at to achieve. Often I choose a location and my mind wanders to the prospect of conditions elsewhere. It's a source of frustration and doesn't lend itself to being completely relaxed and immersed in the act of taking the picture. As landscape photographers, we can procrastinate over the weather and the location, being indecisive, creating a noisy mind. Trying to master this mindset better, leaving the FOMO behind can be as much of a learning curve as photography itself. Woodland photography certainly lends itself to achieve this state of mind and the image here was one of those rarer occasions when everything came together.

Autumn was in full swing, my mind was not thinking of any place except this spot. I had perfect conditions and a scene that caught my attention. The landscape in front of me seemed to be sharper, the noises of the woodland clearer.  A gentle breeze blowing through the canopy above, the birdsong creating a perfect sound track to this simple act of taking a picture. I spent a good hour focused on the small patch of woodland, enjoying every minute trying to piece together the elements and unlock the view. My mind was quiet and completely clear.  I've found that letting the landscape find me rather than planning and worrying about trying to be in the right place at the right time has led me to create images I am happier with. It can create a fully immersed state. These times are rare, but when we can achieve this mindset the joy of photography can be much more expressive.

The images I take are a collection of memories; the experience, the sounds locked into the picture I have captured. When we find our "state of grace", looking back at the photograph can be amplified bringing back the memory as clear as the moment I was stood with the camera.

The trick is to try and remember this the next time I pack the camera for a trip out

Article for Outdoor photography magazine March 2023.

A Winters Morning.

A surprise cold snap back in early March brought about lovely frosty winter conditions. Soft light and mist combined together beautifully under the pinkish hues of the hidden rising sun. The only thing to decide was were to go. My indecisive mind wouldn’t quite land on a favoured spot so I drove around feeling a little anxious as the unexpected conditions of the morning evolved. My drive eventually brought me to a moorland area covered in an icy hoarfrost.


A Winters Morning.


At first my mind wandered wondering If I had chosen the right place, imaging what it would be like in one of the many other places I could have chosen. I have leant more and more that once accepting the decision always quietens the mind and leads to being more productive and creative. Its easy said then done however!

Little and large.

Hoar frost on the moors.

A couple of enjoyable hours led to making a series of images. Once in the flow of photography I really enjoy having this time to observe. Removing the pressure of place we settle into our surroundings and become curious to the details. We can walk and observe, breathe the air and listen to the sounds. I find this all helps to create and produce work. These images are meant to be seen as a collection rather than as individuals, and I find that I learn a lot on these little outings into nature. I look back and they are wonderful memories of a winters morning.

Ice patterns.

The Meeting.

Mind the gap.

Cling to.

Amongst the trees.

Keeping Curious.

Curiosity is what keeps my interest in photography. It’s the one factor that above all has kept the longevity of my passion for the subject. When we are out exploring its the curiosity that pulls at us to see whats around the next corner or over the brow of the distant hill.

With childlike curiosity & wonder we can explore our photography as if we see for the landscape for the first time, it encourages us to experiment to see what works and what doesn't. It opens our eyes to see with originality, to take in the wonderful world.

Like the decaying tree trunk, probably older then myself, battered with storms, warmed by the long summers. Its history is full of interest, with curiosity we explore every lump and bump of the amazing bark. In this little piece of the world, a square meter, its probably teeming with life, organisms living together in a mini eco-system.

Taking time to pause, work on this subject was a real pleasure, in a quiet corner of the woodland with the breeze and the birds. It's no grand landscape or epic light, but to me its essential to learning the craft of photography. It's looking to see.

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Many thanks for taking the time to read the post!

Before Dawn

The gaps between day and night, just before sunrise is a uniquely special time. Any one who has risen early for photography, and no doubt anyone reading this has, knows about this time. Otherworldly quiet, absolute peace, you can’t quite put your finger on it, but it feels different to any other time of day.

Its addictive once you’ve experienced it, tough to get up and out but theres never any regret. When the air is still on a foggy morning, all the senses seem heightened, the noises crystal clear, the chatter of birds, perhaps the odd bark of a dog, carried conversations of others enjoying this time. The colours more vivid, the textures of the landscape viewed in more clarity, a wonderful moment.

This collection of images were captured over a series of foggy mornings. Before sunrise, perfectly still.

Field Notes I.

I first came across this scene back in 2019 thinking there could be some potential to make an image. The old twisted oaks and millstones are something I like to look out for while exploring. The sense of history is fascinating, clues on how the land has been worked and now how it is being reclaimed back to nature.

I'll often take a phone snap while out searching, its a good reminder of places and allows you to plan out compostions. Its taken a few visits to finally capture anything of note here. The images below are the best interpretation have achieved so far. A misty morning helped add the atmosphere and I really enjoyed the view in full green.

Luckily the mist lasted for a good hour or so and allowed me to work the scene without being under too much pressure, it would occasionally disappear then gently drift back down the valley and into view.

The wider view is the composition I finally decided on, allowing the viewer to get a real sense of the place, the mossy millstones, the pathway offers a route through the image framed by these fantastic twisted branches. The view then descends down into the wooded valley below.

Scouting locations is part of my learning curve for landscape photography. Putting in the miles to reccie places can sometimes offer rewards when the conditions are right. It can reduce the panic and allow you to be more confident when composing, taking time to really refine one scene.As always many thanks for taking time to read the words and view the photographs.

Matt





Memories.

Many thanks to anyone who reads my posts. Often they are just fleeting thoughts that pop into my head and I enjoy the creative process of distilling them into words on a page. Its therapeutic, and helps organize my feelings and ideas about photography.

I'm certainly no expert when it comes to writing, its something I practice and hopefully each time learn something and become a little more experienced, very much like photography!

Todays images are two taken in the Peak District, nothing particularly grand or dramatic about these photographs, however in the process of editing them they bring back the experience and feelings of the morning.

Sunrise is getting early and getting up and out is becomes more and more difficult, I hadn't been out at dawn for a while so I was looking forward to the trip and feeling energized. I walk this spot fairly often, and as predicted the weather was clear and warm. Just a hint of mist gathered in the valley bottom, the morning was quiet and peaceful, no noise from the roads with just the bird song filling the gaps.

I was initially disappointed in seeing the forecast ring true, and we set out on our wander under no pressure or expectation. Reluctantly I got the camera out but once in the flow of setting up I began to make a couple of images as we made our way across the gritstone edges enjoying the warm sun.

I wasn't till a few weeks later when I downloaded the pictures and started to edit these photographs that the impact of the mornings walk connected with me. I really had no expectations in producing something particularly good, however the sense of comfort reliving that morning through the images felt good.

Where am I going with this. One thing I am realizing is I must enjoy these moments, that quiet day, the warmth and the free time to walk with Ralph was a real pleasure. Having images to remind me of this day is very special to me, its a great way to keep things in perspective and look after the mind and body.

Autumn Collection 2021

Autumn started slowly and frustratingly for me this year. As the seasons come and go we do tend to put pressure on ourselves to make the most of the condtitons before they change and disapear. I recently moved house and now live near the Peak District, this seemed to intensify the pressure to capture something of Autumn.

I had probably ventured out 7 or 8 times without sucess, my eye just wasnt seeing. The self doubt creeps in, it felt like I could no longer find images. In the scheme of things in general its pretty minor however as when trying to create it can be crippling.

I decided to give the trips a break, just head out just for a walk and enjoy the environment. I’m starting to realsie that the trips i take and don’t make any images aren’t failures but just a chance to learn something more about my photography. These are all small important steps forward.

The image below if was taken after the break. It’s nothing particularly special but it was the first image that caught my attenion and found me enjoying again the process of capturing a picture.



Given the break and checking my expectations during autumn I had a few mornings of enjoyable photography. Below are a few from my 2021 collection. As ever many thanks for reading the words and viewing the images.

Matt.





The River flows.

Kinder is one of the few really remote places in the Peak District, it is wild and beautiful. Head out early and you are likely to have the place to yourself. I hadn’t visited for a while, so it was good to stretch the legs and breathe the air. I know these rocks well, natural sculptures standing high above Edale, weather beaten and crafted from the wind and rain. The view from here is stunning. Making a photograph of them is difficult. Trying to keep these magnificent rocks the focus while adding their natural environment into the frame, I find it tricky to compose and do them justice.

There had been heavy rain for a few days and with the conditions looking changeable I thought there could be potential to make a couple of images. This little sequence of photographs is from a project I'm working on around connection. Im sure that anyone that enjoys nature can relate to this idea. The connection to the landscapes we walk and photograph is an important element to capturing an image. For me being familiar to a location, particularly locally is hugely important. It becomes home.

After the rains I wanted to capture the journey of the water from the top of the plateau to the valley below. Each of the following images is connected to the next. The connection is important to create a sequence, connect the views, the elements and my journey back down the valley.

The view takes in aspects of each of the follwing images.

The view from above. All the images below in this sequence can been seen within this image. Connecting each image to the next, connecting my journey across the landscape and connecting the flow of water to the valley below.

Snow shower. Replenishing the waterways.

The river flows.

Flow 01

Flow 02

Flow 03

Reflections.

It's hard to imagine on a day like this when I photographed the scene, with only the bird song keeping me company, and a gentle breeze blowing through the tree tops above, that this area was once a place for a thriving industry. Look hard enough and you can find the hints of its past memories of the 500 people who worked this site. Little clues scattered in pockets of the landscape memories from another time.

Seldom do we have time to really indulge in photography when conditions are at their peak. The forecast this morning was completely accurate. With a morning to explore as the mist slowly cleared, revealing more as the sun rose and began to burn though the cloud, I was lucky to be at the right place on this occasion.

I enjoy photographing woodland for many reasons; it can be a much more methodic, considered approach and less rushed. It’s the variety that each season offers over the year, the same view never stands still, always in constant change.

It was this collection of birches that caught my attention. Neatly arranged on the small hill side gathered around the gritstone, an echo of a previous time. The sun had risen and was strong enough to burn through the mist, adding warmth and shape to the scene, bringing the greens to life. Each tree stood tall, each with its own character, perhaps a nod and a reflection of the people that worked the quarry many years ago.

Taken by the light.

I recently listened to a podcast on Fstop with photographer John Barclay, describing his thoughts on taking pictures.  Looking back at my photographs I have realised the ones I am most fond of are the times when I did little planning and just head out into the landscape.  John eloquently and perfectly put this way of photography into words, something that has resonated with me and helped me understand my thoughts and feelings on this process.

“Taken by the light”, as put beautifully by John, is a way of letting the landscape turn your head, no expectations, just wandering and absorbing the environment. I’ve been guilty of chasing the light. While there is absolutely nothing wrong with that approach, more often I’m left disappointed when the conditions don’t quite live up to the promise. Letting the landscape wash over you, listening to the sounds, taking a little time, and accepting what is, the experience becomes as much a part of the enjoyment as taking the photograph. 

I believe in the concept of letting the landscape find you. The image opposite was made using this technique. The memory of the day still lives strong in my mind; it’s a powerful technique and has become a useful tool I use for helping me capture images when I’m out in nature. I think if we combine the experience of just being outdoors, alongside photography, this would lead to a more personal and more fulfilling experience?

Listening to the podcast has also made me reflect on the “why” of taking pictures; thoughts that have been festering in my mind for some time. In a world where it feels like you have to shout the loudest to be noticed, the next image being more epic than the previous, it becomes difficult to compete and keep up and ‘we’ wonder where we fit in to the order of things. Is the antidote taking a quieter and more personal approach to enhance the practice of photography; seeking out the small details and the less photographed paths, exploring more and being “taken by the light”?  When we remove the external pressures and expectation then do we remove the stress? I believe so.

 After all, in the end, isn’t taking photographs for our own fulfilment and enjoyment?

As mentioned in the post

Podcast

https://www.mattpaynephotography.com/page/f-stop-collaborate-and-listen/

John Barclay.

https://johnbarclayphotography.com

The images below where taken on the same beach on the same day. Both created by the power of the ocean.

Captured on a wander, taken by the light.