As large parts of the UK were battered today by strong winds and rain, I enjoyed the calm and fairly sunny weather in London over the weekend. Living near Crystal Palace Park, I enjoy walking through the park at different times of the year.

At this time of the year, I enjoy the autumnal face the park has to offer. While the colours are more muted to what I have enjoyed in Canada, they are pretty nonetheless. The rustic colours still remind me of a fading autumn which melts into winter.

Living in the UK, I have become accustomed to more unpredictable weather. While I enjoyed autumn’s colours over the weekend, the rain and wind pounded parts of the country Sunday night and Monday. It reminds me to enjoy and savour the moments of calm before the storm, and even the storm itself.

Whatever the weather provides, I often enjoy photographing my surroundings. Rain and wind can make it more difficult to take photos, but the weather can have such an impact on the mood and feel of a photo.

My view is as long as it’s not raining, I’ll keep taking photos. You don’t always need to have a nice sunny day that’s cloud free. A grainy, textured black and white image can be just as strong as an image with a nice blue sky. 

A week ago, I published my first book with photos I took on my iPhone since August 2012. I hadn’t expected that my first book would be images from my iPhone as I have a few ideas of other books I thought I would publish. So, why images from my iPhone?

I hadn’t expected to take that many images on my iPhone. However, I over the last number of months, I was proved wrong. The images were capturing passing moments before they slipped through my fingers – that’s why the book is called In Passing.

The number of self publishing companies has grown exponentially over the last few years, which makes publishing your own book more accessible. However, it wasn’t easy to choose the photos to include in book. Being able to look at your own work objectively is nearly impossible – which is probably why I have struggled to publish a book previously. I did find that this book seemed to organise itself. Once I had the title, then the photos fell into place.

Would I publish another book? Definitely! When will this happen? I have not idea! I am sure that I will still struggle to figure out the theme of the book and what images to include. However, I won’t let this deter me. Publishing my first book was well worth it!

The Shard is one of the more recent additions to the London skyline. Towering over London Bridge train station, it stretches into the sky and points to the stars above.

A friend and I went up to the viewing gallery at top of the Shard, and it was well worth going up. I’m not one for heights, and was a little apprehensive. However, the views over London were amazing, to say the least.

The weather was not bad with sunshine and some cloud – we were fortunate as it hailed not long after we came down. To see the city from such a height was such an experience, and my fear of heights managed not to bother me particularly. I think I was far too busy looking at the view, and taking photos of it. It was amazing how far you could see.

To see the London and it’s iconic architecture was amazing. 

While my photography is going through a period of change and morphing, one constant I find myself drawn to is photographing my surroundings as they are. This may not be the case in every instance when I push the shutter, how life presents itself, or what it presents to me, demands that it not be changed.

One element that I am finding my photographic journey is taking me is the underlying force behind life, and where humanity fits within this. I was recently walking through Covent Garden recently, and someone had put a fizzy drink bottle on an iron railing in front of one of the buildings. It was a random act, in a way. I doubt the person who had done this had hadn’t realised they had set up a photograph for me. It doesn’t matter, really. The stage had been set.

Seeing the ordinary and making it interesting is something I have always been attracted to. How I have seen this has changed of the years, and it is certainly changing at the moment. Perhaps something more subtle is starting to speak to me.

Like most artists, my creativity comes in spurts. After a period of quiet earlier in the year, the last month or so have been much more creative. I am starting to build up some film I need to scan and am also looking forward to getting 3 rolls of film I shot recently developed.

I am not sure where my photography will take me, and quite frankly, I don’t care. I am really enjoying the journey.

My transitioning photographic eye is still on its journey. Along the way, the film to be scanned is beginning to pile up. In between my photographic escapades with my more favoured cameras, my smart phone and digital point and shoot are allowing me to capture moments I would have never imagined I would be snapping before I had these devices.

Technology is a funny thing. With the advent of digital photography, and the ever more portable and integrated technology, my photography has changed. I find myself taking more snapshots of life around me. It’s my photographic equivalent to doodling. It has allowed me to explore my photography in ways I probably wouldn’t have previously.

However, when I have time to set aside for photography, I am drawn to more traditional (analogue) photography. Partly, it’s what I grew up with and is the most familiar. Mostly, it’s the medium I find my creativity is best conveyed in.

There is a difference between digital and analogue. This difference may seem nuanced, but they are two very different technologies. The look and feel of an image is affected by this. 


I find myself adapting what I do with both technologies. Digital allows me to doodle freely and without worrying about whether I have enough film and the cost. Analogue allows me to ponder and take time to frame what I see. On the more subtle level, I find analogue captures my often textured shots in a more organic way.

While I am allowing the shift, and growth, in my photography to happen, I am enjoying and encouraging the snapshots – the doodles. Without them, my progress would be very different. 

The sun can be scarce in London, particularly during the winter months. However, today was what seemed to be a rare day full of sunshine. While I didn’t really feel like taking photos when I got up, I did make my way towards Crystal Palace Park. 

There are many places in London I can easily go back and photograph many times and at any of the year. It’s one of the few places, however, that I can go and photography when I am in a period of contemplation with my photography – like I am now. 

With winter, the park is in slumber, and I find that I am very attracted to it. The long shadows play well with the dull colours and sleeping nature. I didn’t wander very far today and walked through the part with the dinosaurs. 

Before I went to the park, and even on route, I felt tired and not quite in the mood. However, I did have a sense that I needed to get this out of my system, even if my photos didn’t turn out. I am not sure whether they have or not – I was shooting on film, and the photo above is one I took last winter. 

After having a cup of tea in the café and read part of the Sunday paper, I felt a lot better. I am sure the photos I took en route to the café turned out fine, but the mere act of just doing my photography and letting it be without any pretention or pretext was great, and felt wonderful. I just looked and was in the moment. 

I hope the photos show this, even a little bit. 

With a new year, there is a sense of new possibilities and starting afresh. I am also finding my photography shifting, perhaps maturing. At the very least, it feels like it’s changing, and the changes seem to be in their infancy. 

My photography seems to be adding an otherness to it. I have always been drawn to taking abstract images, but they sometimes seem to have a bit more dream-like aspect to them. 

While I have always found inspiration in the everyday, I am finding a new dimension of the everyday. Perhaps I am subconsciously questioning more the reality and the world around me. Perhaps I am more in tune with what I am seeing. Perhaps the seemingly solid, well, isn’t so firm. 

With the passing of time, perhaps I am becoming more reflective and this is beginning to show in my images. Winter often brings out the more reflective side of me, and I have had to give my photography some space and not rush my creativity. I am still taking photos, but my subconscious seems to be thinking and I seem to be capturing moments currently rather than series or movements. 

I seem to be in between, and perhaps my images are reflecting this. Something is happening and my subconscious seems to be toiling away, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. I am enjoying letting it fester away, and for me to explore. But the most important thing is not rush it, but let it let it reveal itself. 

There is something magical about snow. Growing up in Canada, winter wouldn’t be winter without months of snow. There were mounds of it, for months. The first snowfall often made children (both young and old) excited. Parks filled up with sledges and toboggans. 

Living for a number of years in London, winter mainly brought rain and dampness, along with copious amounts of tea to keep warm. The last few years, however, winter has brought snow – even for a few days. 

For nearly a week now, much of the UK has had significant amounts of snow. While it’s not as much as there would be in Canada, it has certainly brought memories of Canadian winters. There has certainly been some travel chaos, closed schools and quite a few children sledging. 

I managed to get to Woodbrooke Quaker Study Centre in Selly Oaks, near Birmingham last weekend for a course. Getting there and back was a journey in itself, but well worth it. The grounds at the Centre certainly offer an oasis, and with all of the snow a wintery one. 

I have been to Woodbrooke a couple of times before – in spring and autumn. The grounds (as well as the Centre) provide a tranquil space, but in the snow, there was a different kind of peacefulness. The grounds provided a certain stillness in the snow. Nature was in a deep slumber. 

Walking mindfully around the grounds, I enjoyed the stillness and quiet. It was a quiet meditation in the snow – allowing the freshness of the cold air to fill my lungs and to walk on the powdery blanket of snow. 

I was meeting a friend in Lambeth, south London over the weekend, and had a few minutes to wait. While it wasn’t much time, I took the opportunity to look around me. It was part of Lambeth I wasn’t familiar with, and I often try to have a good look round places I don’t know – trying to at least capture photos. 

Standing by a church, I was at a cross roads. What caught my eye was a sign saying ‘Making Space’. With the start of the New Year, many people make resolutions – although often abandoning them at some point during the year. However, with a very busy 2012 with various commissions, I was beginning to miss having time for my own personal photography. I enjoyed the commissions immensely, but it’s often a very different type of photography to what I would normally do. 

While I would like to still have commissions, the ‘Making Space’ sign symbolised how I felt towards my personal photography. Deep down, I want to have more space for it and to develop it. My creative juices have been flowing and have been feeling very strong recently. I want this to be the impetus to get on with some of my own photography. 

I find it is a fine balance between the photography I am asked to do and the photography I want to do. While the commissions do pay and there is some creativity involved, the photos are for the client and reflect what they want. I enjoy working with people to create something that is meaningful for them. 

However, my personal photography shows how I see the work – and how I reflect the world back at itself. I have been feeling a change, or perhaps a maturity, in my photography, and hope to explore this more in 2013. Perhaps this is my New Year’s resolution!

Early one misty morning in early November, a friend and I were driving across the Yorkshire Moors to walk the Cleveland Way from Robin Hoods Bay to Whitby. On the way, we stopped off at Byland Abbey. The cool and misty morning gave the ruins a mystical atmosphere. 

The ruins were once one of the great Abbeys in England, and has inspired a number of churches throughout the North. It even inspired the design of the famous York Minster rose window.


Wandering through the ruins of a once great building, we could still sense the impressiveness of the building. Within the mist, the history of the place whispered to you. You could feel the presence of those who inhabited the walls in its heyday. 

In the stillness of the morning, I could appreciate the sacred space that Byland Abbey gave. Even in the present day, the Abbey kept a certain reverence. Even in its grandeur – whether in its heyday or in ruins – you can sense that the building was a place of pilgrimage – either for the modern day history buff or spiritual person appreciating a sacred space.