Life as a photographer sounds, on the face of it, rather glamorous. Travelling the world creating art, capturing the happiest days of people’s lives, jetting off to share ideas with fellow creatives in exciting locations …
But whilst l love what I do and consider myself incredibly fortunate to be able to do it, the reality is that, in terms of time spent, actually taking photographs is probably around 10% of my job. The rest is a whirlwind of emails, admin, editing, websites, marketing, travel and brainstorming. But that 10% is not just the centrepiece of what I do, it’s my personal release from the other 90%. With a camera in my hand I feel at peace and everything else fades away.
This last month the 90% has felt more like 99.9% and despite dutifully carrying my Instax Mini everywhere I went (even very nearly onto the stage of a photography conference with me), even with the viewfinder to my eye the background noise has been roaring too loud to find that meditative place where my photographs live. So after a week of travel, chaos and a to-do list laughing maniacally at me in the background I found myself seeking a quiet place - the same quiet place in fact that I’ve found myself at throughout my life:
The sea. The gentle sound of the waves.
I spent much of my life in the seaside towns of the Yorkshire coast and the beach is a place I’ve always been able to find peace. And so for an hour or so I found myself standing there, hearing the waves and breathing at last.
It was both the reset I needed and a much-needed opportunity to shoot a few Instax frames. I’m excited to keep shooting in what is such a fun format over the next year and gradually curate an instant portfolio to see what the world looks like in eighty-six millimetres.
If I can just find time to breathe.
Dominique
