The Art of Visual Note-Taking in Photography: Lessons from a Reflective Portrait


A Glimpse into Visual Note-Taking

Photography is more than just capturing perfect portfolio shots. It’s a journey of exploration, experimentation, and personal growth. In this article, we’ll delve into the world of visual note-taking with your camera, drawing inspiration from a poignant black and white portrait capturing a moment shared between a father and his son.

The photograph that serves as our muse in this exploration is a black and white portrait taken within the confines of an elevator. It’s a seemingly ordinary setting, yet it holds within it the essence of visual note-taking. In the center of the frame, my son stands, gazing intently into the elevator’s mirror.

This image isn’t just about following the rule of thirds, although it does so with remarkable precision. What truly sets it apart is the subtle yet profoundly impactful detail: my own reflection, almost ethereal, lingers in the mirror behind my son. It’s a moment frozen in time, a visual note that encapsulates a father’s perspective and a son’s curiosity.

Lessons Learned Through the Lens

This visual note, seemingly unassuming, has been a source of profound lessons in my photographic journey:

1. The Dance of Composition: The deliberate use of the rule of thirds here isn’t just about aesthetics; it’s about orchestrating a visual symphony. The composition invites viewers to explore the depths of the image, guiding their eyes from my son’s contemplative gaze to the faint presence of my reflection. It’s a testament to the power of composition in storytelling.

2. The Narrative Thread: Photography is storytelling with light, and this image narrates a journey. It’s not merely a reflection in a mirror; it’s a snapshot of our journey from the subterranean depths of an underground carpark to the bustling life of the city streets above. It captures the transient nature of existence, reminding us that every moment is a story waiting to be told.

3. The Reflective Element: The mirror within the elevator introduces an intriguing layer of reflection and perspective. It turns an ordinary scene into a canvas for creativity, showcasing the hidden depths within seemingly confined spaces. It’s a reminder that as photographers, we should always be attuned to the opportunities around us, even in the most mundane settings.

4. Emotion Unveiled: Portraits are vessels of emotion and connection. My son’s expression, captured in this visual note, reflects a myriad of feelings—contemplation, curiosity, or perhaps a touch of wonder. These emotions breathe life into the photograph, making it relatable and evocative.

The Journey Continues

This visual note is more than just a photograph; it’s a reflection of my evolving perspective as a photographer and a father. It’s a testament to the idea that within the ordinary, we can find the extraordinary. It speaks to the profound lessons we can draw from visual note-taking in photography.

As you embark on your own photographic journey, remember that each click of the shutter is a note in the symphony of your experience. Visual notes may not always be destined for your portfolio, but they are the heartbeats of your creative exploration. They are reminders of where you’ve been and stepping stones to where you’re going.

Capture the journey, one visual note at a time. Your next revelation may be just a click away.

The following photos, or should I say visual notes, we’re taken over two September Saturdays with my Fujifilm X100f. What did you take away from these visual notes?

A Whirlwind of Joy: A Day of Celebrations


Sundays usually find me in the city of Nantes, where I prefer attending an evening Mass. You get a different crowd at the evening mass, and it feels more exclusive. This particular church stands out for its reverent atmosphere, the cherished celebrant, and the more traditional Mass it offers. It’s not just about tradition; it’s the sense of reverence it brings, allowing for leisurely Sunday mornings. But yesterday was different, and I found myself up at the somewhat ungodly hour to go to mass at 9:30 AM.

Why the early rise, you might wonder? I had a date with destiny at 1:00 PM, helping friends celebrate their 30th wedding anniversary.

If you’ve read my recent article about bidding farewell to my beloved X100F, you’ll recall the camera’s untimely breakdown. Fate, it seemed, had other plans for me. The ISO dial had broken down, rendering me unable to control ISO settings. It was a frustrating predicament for any photographer.

In an attempt to assess the camera’s condition, I had left it sitting in my glove box for over a month, thinking I might need to send it for repairs. But yesterday, as I turned it on, I was amazed and baffled to see it working again as if nothing had happened. It was a photographic miracle, one that put a smile on my face.

With my trusted camera miraculously resurrected, I set off for my friends’ home, ready to revel in their love story and join the festivities. It was a heartwarming celebration, marking three glorious decades of their union. But there was more to this gathering than just an anniversary.

My friends had recently embarked on a journey to adopt their second child, a precious soul from China. They were soon to depart for China, eager to bring their new daughter home. The air was filled with palpable excitement, the anticipation of a new chapter in their lives.

As I arrived at the party, I was greeted not only by the radiant couple but also by familiar faces from my past. Friends who had once been my teachers and companions in the orchestra I had been part of until the previous year had gathered. It was a reunion of kindred spirits, a chance to catch up on life’s many twists and turns.

The day took an unexpected turn when my wife joined the festivities later in the after. She had been having a meal with the people she had learned to drive a school bus with, so she was going to be late. Little did I know that the surprise and icing on the proverbial cake were yet to come.

A Serbian orchestra arrived, instruments playing and walked playing up to the rest of us. The moment they began to play, the air was filled with a symphony of pure magic. The musicians entertained us with their musical virtuosity, their music becoming the heartbeat of the celebration.

Under the summer sun and the backdrop of a joyful celebration, the strains of Balkan music filled the air. It was as if the very essence of celebration had taken musical form. The infectious rhythms swept us off our feet, and we danced with abandon, reveling in the sheer euphoria of the moment. Laughter, love, and music merged into an unforgettable medley, creating memories that would last a lifetime.

As I reflect on that day, I can’t help but marvel at how life has a way of surprising us when we least expect it. What began as a simple morning Mass and a camera conundrum unfolded into a day of pure joy and connection. It was a reminder that sometimes, the best moments in life are the ones we don’t plan for—the unexpected gifts that leave our hearts brimming with gratitude.

And so, my summer concluded with a flourish, with the echoes of Balkan rhythms resonating in my heart. It was a day of celebrations, a day of love and friendship, and a day that reminded me of the beauty of life’s unpredictable dance. It’s safe to say that I’ll be holding onto the memories of this day for a long, long time, and perhaps reconsidering the pace of my Sunday mornings in Nantes.

Farewell, my beloved X100F


It is with great sadness that I must announce the unfortunate fate of my beloved X100F – its ISO dial has broken and will require repair. To those who don’t understand the attachment to a camera, it may seem trivial, but it’s like losing your favorite cup from which you drink your morning tea. The feeling of loss and instability is truly disarming. The X100F has been my faithful companion, capturing countless cherished moments.

I visited the camera shop to check if it was a simple setting issue, but alas, it wasn’t. In September, I will send it to Fuji for repair, no matter the cost. I am determined to bring it back to life.

While I grieve the temporary loss of my X100F, I find solace in other photographic tools at my disposal. My trusty XT2 and Canon 6D Mark II, along with various lenses, are there to fill the void. But it won’t be the same; the X100F had a unique charm that cannot be easily replaced.

I believe there might be a lesson in all this. Perhaps it’s a subtle nudge from the universe to slow down and appreciate the art of photography in its purest form, to revisit the world of film and embrace its magic.

During this challenging time, I gratefully welcome any moral support. Meanwhile, I’ve been diving into the world of film photography, scanning old negatives, and maybe even writing reviews on vintage cameras. It’s my way of coping with the “X100F PTSD.”

While I await the return of my dear companion, I want to share some of my favorite shots taken with the X100F. It has been a source of inspiration and creativity, and its memory will live on through the photographs captured with its lens.

Farewell for now, my dear X100F. Until we meet again.

The Ship Cemetery


I can’t help but think about the men who sailed on these old ships that have been abandoned. Most likely, fisherman heading out to sea to bring back fish to sell at Ettel, a Breton port. They must be grateful not to be shipwrecks like their former vessels. And yet, when we contemplate them, we are filled with awe, realising that these fishing boats were the only defence these men had against the elements and the mighty waves.

Some of them are so decomposed that we can only just make out their skeletons and speculate about their previous states. Others have been turned into supports for street art. Maybe a more fitting tribute.

This maritime cemetery is just upstream of the Barre d’Etel, a most treacherous stretch of water with currents that will drag you out to sea, and sandbanks that will stop you entering the Ria D’Etel.

Clisson


Have you ever come across the articles named “The 10 Prettiest Villages in France,” “The 10 Prettiest Villages in Yorkshire,” “The 10 Prettiest Villages in Northumberland,” or “Some Other Dream Spot in This Beautiful World?”  No? The one closest to us, is about 15 kilometres away and not in the south of France, which I believe to be completely overrated. Like most contenders for this type of little town, there is a bustling market every Friday morning (which is actually pretty wonderful, if not a touch on the pricier side), a park that hugs the river and lets you unwind while taking in the gentle sound of the water.  A castle stands watch over the entire town.  Meandering streets wonder up and down hills as do the locals.  It is in wine producing country surrounded by vineyards who would be more than happy to flog you some wine…

Yes, it is one of “those” places, Dear Reader, but it is still beautiful. Clisson is also aware of this. Of course, I’m simply jealous because I don’t live there but wish I did.

In this series of photographs, I also chose to maintain the film-like appearance of my digital photography. It appears that summer is rapidly approaching. The days are already warmer and sunnier, but are not yet unbearably hot. And such weather is simply God’s way of encouraging you to go have a refreshing pint!

A Breath of Fresh Air


It’s 15h31 on a Monday afternoon, and I’m laying in my bed writing this whilst listening to Bach played on the guitar. Molly is sleeping (and snoring) next to my bed and has just had a belly rub. I was out this morning with the Fuji X100F, driving around the countryside. Why wasn’t I at work, I hear you say, Dear Reader. Because I’m on holiday for the week. The weather has been dismal and verging on English! But today, the sun was, and is still, out. It was lovely just being in the countryside, just soaking up the sun and being at peace with the world. Even if I wished to I can’t handle drama or conflict at the moment, so it’s a self-preservation thing.

If you follow me on Instagram could be forgiven for thinking that I only deal in Black and White Photography, which appears to be my natural niche, but over here I have the freedom missing from the ‘Gram, and don’t have to worry about staying on brand or faffing about thinking about the infamous algorithm, which is the “baddie” that everyone loves to hate. A little like our French Président!

I’m not watching as much YouTube as I used to and am thinking about going back to it, for instruction, inspiration, and as a resource for a way of advancing along my photographic journey. I’ve been getting back into using the X100F in a big way too. Lightweight, and gets the job done, and continues to be slightly less conspicuous when on the street. But I think I’m becoming guilty of rehashing the famous review of the camera that I wrote last year.

One of the reasons for getting the X100F was the film simulations. At the time, I was moving from film back to digital and remember loving the results people were able to achieve. Those desaturated colours, warm tones, and a feeling of timelessness. I think I have mentioned Fuji X Weekly, and their recipes that one can use to get a feeling of various film stocks. You can tell me what you think looking at the photos below.