The Photograph no one will ever see

Olive Tree, Kefalonia, when I looked at this tree I fell in love with that little curve bottom left, that is the key to this image, one curve, then the texture. But then you notice the repetition of the curve at the top of the tree just before the leaves and suddenly I saw magic. I just found it so pleasing and that is enough.

Hi,

I hope you are well?

I want to ask something of you this week, something that might feel slightly uncomfortable.

A photograph that nobody will ever see. Not your partner, not your camera club, not your Instagram followers. Not even me. Made entirely and only for you.

No hashtags. No sharing. No quiet hope that someone might notice it.

Just you, a camera, and whatever it is that catches your eye when nobody’s watching.

I’m aware of the irony of publishing this.

Here’s what I’ve noticed. The images I’m most proud of, the ones that feel most true, are almost never the ones that performed well. They’re the ones I nearly didn’t share because I wasn’t sure anyone else would understand them. The image of a dying flower made in a small flat when I was at my lowest. A piece of rusted fence caught in winter light on Iona that said something to me I couldn’t put into words. A shadow on a wall that lasted about four seconds before the sun moved.

None of those images were made for anyone. They were made because something in me needed to make them.

That’s the kind of photograph I want you to make this week.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot recently. I spend a good deal of my time encouraging people to let go of perfectionism, to stop seeking approval, to photograph what they feel rather than what they think will be admired. And I believe every word of it.

But I’ll be honest with you, even now, even after everything that has changed in how I see and why I make pictures, there is still a moment when I’m composing an image where a small voice says: would this work on Instagram? I don’t always listen to it, but it’s there. I suspect it’s there for most of us.

That voice is not entirely our fault. I’ve watched it happen to me gradually, without noticing. The metrics are always visible, always running. After a while we begin to compose for them. We reach for the light we know performs well. We return to the subjects our followers have responded to before. We self-edit before we’ve even pressed the shutter.

And slowly, quietly, we stop making the photographs only we could make.

Go somewhere familiar or somewhere new -it doesn’t matter. Take your camera, or your phone, or whatever you reach for when the impulse strikes. And make one photograph, just one, that you will never show to another living soul.

Let that intention change how you look. Notice what happens when the audience disappears. What would you photograph if the only measure of success was whether you felt something?

You might surprise yourself. You might make something tentative and odd and unlike anything in your usual body of work. You might make something quietly perfect. You might make something that doesn’t work at all.

All of that is fine. All of that is the point.

The photograph nobody will ever see might be the most honest thing you’ve made in years. And that honesty, that private, unwitnessed act of really looking is what everything else grows from.

Keep it. Don’t delete it. Just don’t show it.

That’s enough.

Thank you for your time today

Best wishes

Paul

Be guided through a day of mindful photography & the meditative process of Japanese Stab Binding, taking the handcrafted keepsake away.

More Information and Booking

An Invitation to Pause: Autumn, Stillness and the Art of Making.

September 30th 2026 0930 - 1700

Take a breath. Feel your body grounded, and let your gaze wander.

Join me for a unique, one-day immersive retreat within the sub-tropical soul of Trebah. This experience is a bridge between the wild, architectural beauty of the gardens and the quiet, grounding joy of creating a handmade book from the photographs you will make

There is a quiet magic that occurs in September. It is a time when the frantic energy of summer starts to fade, and the earth begins its gentle, necessary exhale. Here in Cornwall, as the air grows cooler, Trebah Garden undergoes a breathtaking transformation. Widely cherished as a sub-tropical paradise with a stunning coastal backdrop, this twenty-six acre valley garden offers a deeply immersive experience as the seasons shift. The dramatic canopies of exotic blooms give way to a rich tapestry of amber, rust, and gold. In Hydrangea Valley, late blooms cast clouds of china blue and soft white across Mallard Pond, while the spectacular champion trees begin to dominate the landscape.

We live in a world where we have become slaves to screens and timelines, constantly chasing the next thing. Mindful photography invites us to break free. It whispers, "Stop. Look. Feel." It is a space free of judgment, open to photographers of all abilities, whether you carry a camera bag full of specialized gear or simply an iPhone in your pocket. This day is not about technical perfection or rules; it is about your personal connection to the world around you.

Nature does not rush its transition; it transitions softly, inviting us to do the same.

Make the photograph I mention in the main piece of writing, a photograph that you will not share with anyone, print it out (small 5x7 inches) and then fold a piece a piece of paper over the print so that only you can see it. Look at it when you need reminding to be honest.

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.”