On the road of intention
At one point, I could take a photo of anything, and it would turn out great. I had found a kind of cheat code, a recipe for composition and what I thought was interesting subject matter. But repetition killed it all. Luckily.
Weeks ago, I found myself in the same mood I had before I found my place. What once felt interesting now felt dull. These moments have followed me through all my creative years.
As a graffiti artist, I used to sketch the same letters again and again, finding new ways to connect the shapes. Some writers loved that part, painting the same piece with only small changes each time. But I always searched for something more.
It’s the same with photography. If I’ve taken a photo of someone walking in front of a building, I’ve taken it. There’s nothing left there to excite me, unless there’s a twist. Maybe color matching, maybe a moment of interaction, some interestingness. Otherwise, I move on.
When I realized I was doing the same thing with my compositions, I spiraled. I was back at that stage where I was trying to find my style.
For me, style beats power moves every time. That’s something I learned from my background as a b-boy, no flashy move can outshine clean basics done with style. Originality is key. It’s hard, but it’s exciting.
Learning a new way of shooting feels like learning the guitar again. I’ve played before, I know the chords, but to move forward, I have to forget it all. Start again. That’s where growth happens. The struggle is real, but necessary.
The last time I found my voice, I had help. @72sekund, a photographer whose street scenes felt truly his own, inspired me deeply. His vision shaped mine when I was lost, but in a different way than now.
This time, I’ve lost myself on purpose.
Thomas and I are experimenting, exploring, having fun. Together, we’ve found another gear. And I feel ready to push further.
Breaking down your own habits is uncomfortable. Adding new ideas into your process makes every photo feel like it takes forever. So I paused the fast paced city shooting and gave myself space, places where I could think before clicking.
For me, that meant nature, woodlands, quiet corners of the city on Sundays, construction sites, and forgotten industrial spaces. I began to understand why so many of my favorite photographers shoot there. It’s not just about wabi-sabi, it’s about giving your voice time to breathe.
Of course, wandering into forgotten places has its risks. You have to stay mindful. I’ve been thrown out of places before, even called up later by people who caught my car on camera. So be good out there. It’s only photography, not worth any stupidity.
I say that because I’ve been stupid. Once, I took a photo I can’t erase from my mind. Nothing happened to me, but I captured something I shouldn’t have. Not every moment deserves to be photographed.
After searching for new ways to shoot, I’m enjoying it again. I don’t settle for the first composition anymore. I build, subtract, refine, slowly. This practice is tough, but rewarding.
Maybe my temporary following won’t understand what I’m doing right now. That’s okay. This stage is for me, for growth.
Who knows? Maybe someday there’ll be a place for this work to be seen and appreciated.
Back home, the edit begins, and it’s the same journey all over again. Finding the new style. The beautiful struggle.
I enjoy this way of making images, and I know that, with time, I can bring this approach back to the streets. But not yet. I’ve tried, and I fall back into old habits.
And that’s okay.
See you later, I’m good.
On the Road of Intention.
