I can see clearly now....

Trebah Gardens, there is something about Gunnera that excites the child inside me especially at Trebah’s gunnera walk, these giant plants form a tunnel over the path, the light glows green and I expect to see a dinosaur making its way through the magnificent plants - yes I know they are invasive and can’t be grown or moved here anymore, but I still love them.

Hi,

I hope you are well?

Last week I had the pleasure of leading a one day workshop at Trebah Gardens with a wonderful group, it was during the morning that I felt so elated to be completely in the present moment.

I found myself in a tunnel of giant Gunnera, the leaves making a secret world, rich with a green glow, the smell of damp vegetation, the spiky rough texture of the leaves and stems catching on my skin as I pushed past the enormous stems and nodding to others who, like me, had gone quiet as we looked up at the cathedral-like scale of these majestic dinosaurs of plants. I had fun making a few iphone images while talking to a couple of my clients in a whisper for fear of disturbing the stillness within the plantation.

I wasn’t always this connected to my photography, I didn’t see clearly. I lived a life defined by images, looking at 20,000 images a day as Picture Editor of The Times but felt numb about the majority of what I saw, I became unmoved by so much. There were many things dulling my vision as the volume of my job drowned out how I really felt about life. If I look back at the images I made at that time they are as if I were working on mute, there’s nothing that speaks, no soul.

I had been so consumed with consuming, I strived to convince myself that I was unworthy and unlovable. I put more energy into self destruction than anything else and at a point, I nearly lost everything.

Fortunately one person held their hand out to help, that person was my mum, I am grateful to her everyday for how she helped when I hit rock bottom.

There’s an image I made at that turning point of my life, it asks for forgiveness, understanding and compassion, it is an image made of love, about love and also from a place of love, it’s an image I made when I became sober.

Recently though I now see how blinded I was — and how the camera, a constant throughout all of it, kept asking me to be present. So, in its own way, has my faith.

In the past I would ask is it good enough? Now I ask does it feel true? I used to move through places. Now I stop in them.

I used to look for the dramatic and the grand. Now I find the lichen on a fence post more interesting than the mountain behind it.

I used to make images for approval — editors, audiences, competitions. Now I make them for a few moments of stillness with a subject, that’s enough.

Imperfection stopped being a failure and became the signal that something real happened.

Tomorrow I'm going back to Trebah with my camera. Not to take photographs. To receive them — from a place I now know how to be still in. I couldn't have said that ten years ago. I can say it now.

Thank you for your time today

Best wishes

Paul

The two offerings of online workshops are now fully subscribed. I have had a lot of messages about people missing out - I am sorry that I can’t run a third version, but I just don’t have enough time sadly. The next round of workshops will be released in late August for the autumn series, detail will be on my newsletter - but if you want to join be quick when you see the newsletter.

This week’s assignment is Incomplete, can you find something that is incomplete or broken and find the beauty within it?

My first book “Still - a mindful practice for photographers” has been on sale for a couple of months now and is listed as a bestseller on Amazon and Waterstones in the UK - which I still can’t believe. The feedback has been incredible, I am so grateful to everyone who has ordered a copy. If you don’t have a copy yet it is on sale in most good bookshops and via numerous online book retailers too.

There is a German version too and in the US it is available from all good bookstores and The Getty Museum

“More than a photography book, Still is a must-have guide for anyone seeking calm and clarity in their creative life.”