Personal photography
I never followed trends. Still don’t. The branded trainers, the tribal colours, the group signalling that consumed my schoolmates meant nothing to me (still doesn’t, I don’t wear brands). While they sorted themselves into neat categories of belonging, I couldn’t be bothered allocating brain resources to such nonsense. I cared that my parents bought me shoes, not which logo was on them. I wanted one decent friend to talk with, not membership in whatever faction was fashionable that term.
This is a return to my roots: a landscape with sunset colours. This is the sort of photos I was taking 20 ago.
Sometimes small insignificant objects have an important legacy.
It’s easy to fall into the comfortable position of not taking photos, even if you want to. Taking photographs requires switching into the right frame of mind, if you’re into landscapes or street photography it requires you to go out, sometimes travelling, and then there’s processing whether you take digital or film. It’s just easier to watch TV or doom scroll.
I took this photo in February 2006 in Montrose bay. It was a nice but freezing cold day that in Scotland results in very nice blue skies and intense warm colours due to the low sun.
Generative AI has had a massive impact on photography in the last couple of years. The moment Midjourney could conjure a flawless sunset over the Maldives without anyone leaving their bedroom, the game changed irrevocably. Why trudge through tourist hordes at Santorini when an algorithm can deliver that golden hour shot with perfect composition, no cruise ships cluttering the frame, and lighting that would make Ansel Adams weep? AI doesn’t deal with weather delays, equipment failures, or that inevitable moment when someone’s selfie stick ruins your carefully planned shot.
This isn’t a tragedy. It’s evolution.
I mentioned in the past a mini photo essay I did one morning in Peterhead, Northern Scotland, about the local fishermen. I drive up in the middle of the night in freezing December to catch them coming in at dawn.
Sometimes, photos don’t need to be complicated. You’re on your way somewhere, and you’re struck by a sight that appeals to you. You might not be able to explain why. It just looks pleasant.
I argued a few weeks ago how serious image-making is similar in many ways to scientific research: photographers, like scientists, must master specialised terminology, analyse minute technical details, and engage in lengthy theoretical discussions to truly understand their craft.
I touched on the opposite argument when mentioning how images are consumed on IG and other social media platforms. But there is a larger argument to be had here: photography shouldn’t require a PhD to be appreciated.
As I mentioned when I started this newsletter, I use writing to argue with myself. And in the case of this discussion, I wasn’t entirely finished. But having the whole argument in a single post would have made it way too long and too complicated. This is essentially part 2 of the argument.
I took this photo in Crovie, on the Northern coast of Scotland. It’s a tiny fishing village stuck between a cliff and the sea.
