Issue 41
An Artist’s Life
Ideas for the Creative Mind
Mastery isn’t a certificate you frame above the sofa. It’s a lifestyle choice—commit to who you want to be, then set up your days to make that identity inevitable.
I’m not a master. But I *have* built a life that gives me the best odds of earning the skill, intuition, and (on a good day) a bit of flair.
I wake with the birds. Coffee. Reading until 7:30am. By then Juno—my faithful companion and part-time debt collector—has moved on from polite suggestions to physical lobbying for breakfast.
Afterwards we walk, or I run with her in the park.
Unlike many creatives, I don’t “think” on these outings. That’s our time. Also: I don’t fancy becoming a cautionary tale because I was pondering symbolism while sprinting at full tilt with a muscled fur-missile strapped to my waist. This hour is pure joy.
Then it’s back to work: developing negatives, maintaining my image database, and posting to social media. Twice a week, I slow things down even further—sequencing images, examining prints, planning logistics. Quiet work. The kind that looks like nothing, until it looks like a body of work.
Afternoons are for practice with the tools. I’ll test a new lighting set-up, refine a pose, and keep showing up in one of the two studios I use—one local, one in the City. I also treat writing as a tool: not decoration, but a way of thinking clearly on paper.
Late afternoon, Juno and I head to the dog park for the evening social. There’s something magical about a pack of dogs coming alive as the sun fades—whilst their handlers try not to get taken out at the knees. It’s community, but with more panting.
Evenings are for lighter inputs: the saved articles, podcasts, or videos that don’t require a fresh brain. Or I’ll head to a camera club social, or an exhibition opening—small reminders that other people are also out here trying to make something honest.
In between all of this—about a third of my time—I work. Sometimes work demands I change the schedule, as it did through Autumn and Winter 2025/26. Those digressions no longer faze me, because I know passion will bring me back to the thread I left hanging.
Oddly, periods of focus shift can be intensely stimulating for my creative life. It’s during these times that new ideas surface—despite being submerged in the arcane arts of maths, economics and decision science.
When I travel, though, my focus tightens: shooting and writing. And I know I need to get better at talking about those trips—because that’s the point. That’s the garden. I’ve guarded it for no good reason, like a dragon protecting a hoard of… perfectly normal rocks. Time to open the gate.
One or Two Quotes
I
“How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.”
— Annie Dillard
II
“I write when I’m inspired, and I see to it that I’m inspired at nine o’clock every morning.”
— Peter De Vries
In the Spotlight
Question to You
What small change can you make in your day for the one thing—painting, poetry, photography, anything—that lights you up?
I started this journey by taking my camera for a walk every Saturday (or Sunday) morning. Today, it’s my encore.
News from the Studio
If you’d like to see what this kind of life produces, have a look through the Archive on my website. And if you’re considering a print for your home, the Shop is the simplest way in.
Collector-friendly offer: reply with (1) a wall size and (2) the kind of room it is—hallway, study, living room—and I’ll suggest a few images and print sizes that will actually work in that space.
That’s a wrap. If you know anyone interested in photography, visual storytelling, or collecting finely crafted prints, please share this email. Or simply hit reply to say hello or share your thoughts.