An imperfect photographer seeking perfection in an imperfect world

I became a professional photographer in 2005, but following the financial crisis of 2007–2008 I had to find a new career by the end of 2009, and by 2010 photography had sadly been relegated to a hobby. It hurt immensely that something I loved doing so much had become something that couldn’t give me the financial support I needed to survive.

But all was not lost, because of what happened and the way it happened I found a new career I could hustle hard in and make a success of, so much so that I can really look at my past life as a photographer, many of my peers who are still photographers, and the industry as a whole and look at it as an outsider with a lot of inside information.

So that all forms the base for my slightly ludicrously title article, welcome on this journey.

The imperfect photographer

As mentioned already I’m definitely not the cookie cutter template of a photographer, before I could call myself a professional I did a multitude of photography internships under some of the biggest and best names in the country, as you do, I also tried out some of the more fringe career possibilities in photography, working in a forensic lab of the police photographing the recently departed as an example. I tried everything, but I found my niche in shooter architecture and interiors with a splash of live band photography. Not only could I support myself but I got to mingle with all the fun people at night and got invited to some crazy events. Being the ENFP that I am this quickly turned into social networking, and I found another niche, commissioned fine art work for people’s walls.

I’ve never thought of calling myself an artist, and as many of the art school elite in the city have told me, I can’t call myself an artist if I didn’t go to a reputable or art school or if I’ve anguished as an artist. But here I was being paid for my art, and it felt amazing. Trying to get my work exhibited was a whole different story and in the end I had to resort to the DIY way of booking a space and doing everything myself, which had a mild degree of success but I always felt like I was missing out on the real thing. Perception of an ideal is a funny thing.

Seeking perfection

Perfection is a pretty big statement when it comes to the world of commercial photography, all the work that goes into making that perfect shot to sell the dream or product. I quickly found that it wasn’t for me, my side of the coin was more focused on things being natural and a little more real.

When I was studying photography I discovered the world of Bauhaus and the work of László Moholy-Nagy, all of a sudden I realised that art and technology can live side by side, and that what enjoyed doing the most with my photography was to capture snippets of time, sometimes big, sometimes small, but little moments locked in stasis.

This feeling was enforced even more after I read The Decisive Moment by Henri Cartier-Bresson, if you are ever find yourself in a grump with your own work, then this book will be a great catalyst in just going outside and shooting, and not shooting blindly, but going outside to pay attention to everything apart from your camera and your work. Look around, experience, live, breathe, all of those good things, but do while you have a camera. And you might more often than not miss capturing those moments with your camera, but you were present in experiencing it. As opposed to going out looking for shots and not looking at the world around you. I still find that some of best work happened when I wasn’t out with the purpose of taking photos. So especially that this is the end of 2019 as I write this, I will endeavour to take my camera even more with me wherever I go.

There is a big, beautiful, crazy, undiscovered world out there… we should just go out and explore it.

The imperfect world

Sadly there is a part of this Utopian story that makes it a little harder, the world we live in isn’t perfect, there are things that we just have to do. We have to work, because we have to have money, because things cost money. Now before anyone says it, this is not some anti-capitalism, or any other -ism, pro or anti. But just a few personal observations, and if you’ve read this far, then you’ll bear with me a bit more. But there is an overwhelming reality that you need to work to earn money so that you can live your life. Very generalised and a very basic statement, but you get the meaning of it.

So being a photographer in a professional capacity means you sustain yourself from your work, which in many instances mean doing work you don’t really want to. But these moments are rewarded by a life where you can do and shoot the projects that excite you.

But what if you can do it a bit differently… and this is where my thinking is going. What if you can craft your identity around the work you want to do so much that you only then do work in that field? Again not a massive revelation here, lots of people are living very happy lives doing the type of projects that they want to do. But this was a bit of personal revelation, tied in with some other personal factors about money and living I might touch on in another article.

Back to the original idea, so if the world is imperfect, then surely it means there is space for an imperfect photographer shoot what he loves to shoot, right? I think so, and it’s an idea I am going to explore a lot in the coming chapter of my life.

Returning to Digital with a Film Mindset

I started in film photography. It was all I knew before digital took over. When I made the shift, I shot digital the way most people did, leaning into its perfection, its speed, its ability to churn out hundreds of images in a session. It was convenient, efficient, and necessary for commercial work. But something felt off. Something got lost in translation.

Film had a natural rhythm to it. The cost of each frame made you think. You didn’t spray and pray. You composed carefully, you metered properly, and you understood the light before pressing the shutter. Every shot mattered.

For years, I chased that feeling in digital. I used presets, grain overlays, and old lenses to try to replicate it. But all of those were just aesthetic tweaks. The real difference wasn’t in the gear, it was in how I approached the process. And at some point, I realised I could take my film mindset and apply it to digital.

So I slowed down. I stopped shooting in bursts. I disabled auto-preview and started trusting my instincts. I went out with just one prime lens, like I would with a film camera, and forced myself to work within its limitations. I embraced imperfection, let the shadows fall, let the highlights blow out if they needed to. I stopped chasing technical perfection and started chasing feeling again.

Now, I shoot digital, but I shoot it the way I shot film. And that has made all the difference. It’s no longer about the tool. It’s about how I see, how I feel, and how I tell the story. That’s what matters.

Maybe this is just a note to myself, something to remind me why I fell in love with photography in the first place. But if you’ve ever felt stuck, if you’ve ever felt like digital is draining the soul out of your work, maybe this will help you too.

As always, feel free to reach out, ask questions, or just share your own journey. We’re all part of a bigger community of dreamers.