I’ve been carrying a camera around as a serious hobbyist for more than a decade (actually, after thinking about it since originally posting this, it’s nearly two decades). Like a lot of people, I jumped on the social media bandwagon, chasing Likes and the occasional word of encouragement. But I never quite found my footing there. I could never fully figure out what it was about photography that actually brought me life.
Over the past year or so, and after being absent from Substack even longer, I’ve found myself coming back to a couple of recurring ideas.
First: photograph what means something to me, not what might earn Likes or grow a follower count.
Second: stop obsessing over perfection.
I’ve spent a lot of time sitting with those two thoughts, and honestly, they’ve felt freeing. Freeing enough that I traded my Canon EOS R8 for a used Fujifilm X-T5 in December. I’m not someone who can afford to keep multiple $1,000+ cameras around, so these decisions matter. After “losing” my EOS R8 last October (a story for another time), I took a hard look at what kind of camera would actually support how I want to photograph.
I do enjoy editing—especially when I’m “in the zone”—but I’ve grown more interested in pushing creativity into the field instead of the computer. I want to capture more of what I’m feeling in the moment, not just what I can refine later. Fujifilm’s film simulations and custom recipes really speak to that, especially for someone like me whose first experience with photography was shooting Fuji and Kodak film through a Canon SLR in the 1970s.
Going Forward
In 2026, I’m intentionally taking some pressure off myself in producing quantity, but also investing more of myself into Substack. I don’t want photography to be about producing wall-worthy images or hitting some invisible benchmark. I want photography to be personally satisfying. Rejuvenating. Healing. Less goal-oriented and more reflective of who I am and what caught my attention in a given moment.
I suspect this isn’t all that different from how many photographers—especially in the film era, now considered icons—approached their work, long before Likes and follower counts became the measure of worth.
This year, I intend to slow down. Observe more. Care less about creating images with a “wow” factor, or trying to emulate or “one-up” someone else’s photo, or chasing approval, and focus instead on making photographs that mean something—to me—and which reflect how I experienced a moment in time. If they cause someone else to pause, look, and ponder, that feels like more than enough.
I also want give back through my photography. One way in which I feel I can do that is by focusing more on people; giving them not only a face but a voice. My photography of others is guided by respect, dignity, and care for the people and communities I photograph. I strive to represent individuals truthfully and without exploitation, giving particular consideration to children, vulnerable populations, and those affected by crisis or hardship. I believe one way in which we can become more united as a society is to be able to look into another’s eyes and see, regardless of our circumstances, we are not all that different from each other. That, to me, is the highest goal I can strive for as a photographer.
I want my photos to be real; the result of my genuine interest in and engagement with the world around me. And going forward I intend to use Substack, if only for myself, as the platform where I invest most of my energy creating a record of my journey. If you choose to join me in my journey and follow along, I would love to have you here!
Enjoying my work?
If these photographs of small towns and everyday life resonate with you, your support helps cover fuel, campground fees, and time spent creating future photo essays I’d be deeply grateful if you’d buy me a coffee!