Why Photography is The Only Hobby I’ve Ever Stuck With
This year marks my third year of consistently taking, editing and sharing photos.
I’ve never consistently done anything for three years. I’ve never consistently done anything full stop.
Growing up, I really wanted to be able to play the piano. Not enough to take lessons, but I had the desire in my mind and that was enough. My dad had an old keyboard which he reluctantly shared with me, humouring my grand ambition to become a self-taught pianist so I could impress all my friends and family. I must have picked up that keyboard and watched YouTube videos on how to play it for about two weeks before I eventually decided it was too difficult and I’d be better off dedicating my time to the next thing I’d eventually give up on.
Quitting was something I was consistent with, to be fair to me. Everything was “too difficult” and if I wasn’t great at it immediately, I’d decide it wasn’t for me.
Throughout the years, there were many versions of “piano” that came along. I tried the guitar, I tried drawing and, embarrassingly, at one point I even tried breakdancing (thanks Quest Crew).
Coincidentally, I did actually also try photography initially in 2013. I made my dad spend his hard-earned money on a DSLR that I swore I’d use all the time, only for it to be used on one summer holiday and then forgotten about.
The first ever photo I took on a proper camera (Canon 600D) at 16 years old - better than some of my current work to be fair.
That is, until 10 years later.
As the stars aligned, I had been working for a few years and saved up enough money to go on my dream holiday. I was finally going to Japan.
As we all do whenever we know we’re going abroad, I knew I HAD to bring a camera to capture everything, and so it was time to dust off the old Canon.
Told you I’d use it all the time, Dad. Ten years strong!
I took over 3,000 photos that trip. Most of them looked like this:
I was disappointed, to say the least.
I was in one of the most impressive places in the world, and I somehow managed to capture none of its essence, none of its character, and frankly, I made it look a bit shit.
I had such regrets about not knowing how to use my camera better, or how to take good photos, following the best holiday I’d ever been on.
And so, I swore to myself that I’d get better at photography. I wanted to capture my memories for what they actually felt like: the happiest times of my life, the times I want to reflect on fondly, and the times I want to treasure and show to my friends and family.
I wanted my photos to be a celebration of the places I’d travelled to and the people I’d met.
A current picture I’m proud of.
Since then, I’ve taken well over 20,000 photos in the space of three years and consumed an endless amount of photography content in an effort to get better at it.
And boy, it’s been a hell of a ride.
I find myself now having a much greater appreciation for the places I travel to. Even for the places I see all the time, over and over again.
I’m slowing down and paying more attention. I’m noticing the little things in an effort to find good photo opportunities. I’m seeing beauty in settings I would have previously overlooked, and I find myself constantly looking out for unique moments.
And guess what?
I’m loving every step of it.
It’s different to any other hobby I’ve tried and failed at. It’s not just something isolated to the moment in which I’m doing it; it’s having a wider impact on my life and how I perceive things.
Photography has made me more curious. It’s made me look twice at things I might otherwise have walked straight past. It’s made me appreciate places I’ve visited countless times, simply because I’m now looking at them differently.
Whilst I think I’ve definitely improved, I still don’t think I do the scenes I come across any justice.
And, ironically, the more I improve, the more obvious that becomes.
Maybe that’s what’s kept me going.
With every photo I take, I feel like I’m getting a little bit closer to being able to capture things the way I see them in my head. I’m still nowhere near where I want to be, but oddly, that feeling hasn’t made me want to give up.
Instead, it makes me want to carry on.
Maybe that’s why photography is different. The difficulty that used to make me give up is probably the thing that’s kept me going with photography.
There’s no real point at which I’ll feel like I’ve figured it out. There will always be another photo I want to take, another place I want to capture, another way I could have done something better.
And for the first time in my life, I’m absolutely okay with that, because it just means I get to keep on taking photographs of things I love.