Twenty Years In, Still Exploring

This year marks two significant milestones for me: ten years since I opened my gallery in Ranfurly, and twenty years since I first called myself a professional photographer.

As I look back, I feel a very real sense of thankfulness. I never take for granted that I have been able to make a life from creating things. Along the way I have learnt an enormous amount, met wonderful people, and had the privilege of sharing my work with collectors, visitors and friends from all over New Zealand and beyond.

Over the quieter winter months I have been having a rather interesting conversation with myself. Looking back has naturally led to looking forward. Where have I come from? What do I want the next twenty years to look like? More importantly, what kind of artist and person do I want to become?

The answers have not been dramatic, so don't expect any sudden reinvention!  If anything, this reflection has made me realise that I want to become more authentically myself. Less distracted by what I think I should be doing, and more committed to quietly exploring, learning and refining the creative practice that has been evolving for many years.

One idea has kept coming back to me. I no longer want to think of creativity as something that only happens when I am out with my camera or working in the gallery. I want it to become more deeply woven into everyday life. Paying closer attention to my changing surroundings. Standing at my kitchen window watching the sun rise across the Maniototo without feeling the need to immediately reach for a camera. Pulling an old art book from the shelf simply because something in it has stayed with me for twenty years. Visiting another artist, not because I expect inspiration on demand, but because I enjoy seeing how other creative people think. These moments may never become photographs, but I am beginning to think they are just as important to the photographs I eventually make.  For a long time I divided my life into "creative time" and "everything else". I am beginning to think that distinction has been holding me back.  Perhaps this realisation that my creative practice is not separate from my life is one of the "biggies" that feels surprisingly freeing but challenging too.

This has been a fascinating journey, and I suspect it is only just beginning. Over the coming months I hope to share more of these reflections, along with some of the stories behind my work and the ideas that continue to shape it.

After all, twenty years in, I still feel like I am exploring.

PS Yes, those are my old slippers. They appeared quite unintentionally while I was experimenting with a new multiple exposure technique. Looking at the photograph now, I think they belong there.