There are places in the world where time feels different — where the air is thick with memory, hope, and something quieter than silence. Lourdes is one of those places. This is the story of my pilgrimage there with my son Killian — and of the moment that changed us both.
Lourdes 2025
I look back on our trip to Lourdes with great affection and know that I will be going back with Killian one day. Lourdes is one of the most significant sites when it comes to Marian apparitions — and was where the dogma of the Immaculate Conception was confirmed. Our Lady made several apparitions to Bernadette Soubirous, and the grotto remains exactly as it was, as does the spring she once dug by hand, along with the sacred alcove where Mother Mary actually appeared.
This time we didn’t manage to go to the baths, but I did attend Mass and go to confession.
Was it a pilgrimage for both of us? In some way, yes. Killian’s faith path and my own may be at different places, but we couldn’t help but feel changed.
Little did I know that while I was waiting inside to go to confession, an African nun had come up to Killian and had started talking to him.
When I was confessing my many sins, the priest guided me, taught me, and reminded me of some of the key elements of the faith — and the importance of looking after myself. He was completely right about everything. It was a moving experience — I left that confessional a new man, newly reconciled with God. I said my penance and went to find the boy.
For those of us who went to Catholic schools, we know all about the power of nuns — and you listen to them. She spoke to him not only with authority, but with profound wisdom, deep kindness, and the kind of love only an African mother can carry in her voice. He later told me how much she had marked him. When I came out of confession, she was still talking to him — and boy, was he listening.
Was it just a nun — or was it Our Lady speaking to him the way Jesus speaks through the words of the priest during Mass? I don’t know. But what I do know is that what that nun said to him had moved him more than any lecture from his father ever could. She was such a happy woman, and her laugh was infectious. She truly had the joy of serving Christ.
Lourdes is a place of hope, healing, and searching — a place where we often find God through Mary.
Killian had not only been a constant companion to me, helping me and laughing with me, but I believe God had spoken to that boy through that nun and set something in motion. Is he still fighting his demons? Yes. But there was a glimmer of hope in the darkness — one that won’t leave him untouched.
I didn’t question him further. Some moments are too sacred to dissect. And every soul walks its own path to God.
We had spontaneously gone to Mass the day Pope Leo was elected, and there was a joyful energy in the sanctuary. Habemus Papam. It was a special day.
Not because of the ceremony, or the news, or even the setting — but because, in that moment, I knew: God had not stopped speaking.
Sometimes, He speaks through a stranger. Sometimes, through a mother’s voice. And sometimes, through a son who learns to listen again.
I am glad to report that today was a lot more successful than the day before. New Year, New Me? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. After a good night’s sleep, I was feeling almost human and Corentin explained last night’s quid pro quo. Phones without batteries, people calling me and I must have been on “do not disturb mode.’ The girls asked why I hadn’t called them too, as they would have said where they were. Look, it’s fine. It doesn’t matter, except it did matter, but there was nothing I could do about it. Can’t change the past, it’s too late, can’t change the future, it hasn’t happened yet, so live in the present moment. Probably a better idea to try and make the best of the day as humanly possible.
Today’s trip by bus, leaving at midday, was a welcome change. The next town was only 40 miles away, which made the journey feel entirely manageable—and, more importantly, it gave me the time I needed to move my little booty and try and find something for Kilian. He had asked me for cooking chopsticks and I thought I would bring back some nicer model like the ones we had been using in restaurants during the trip. Corentin told me about his visit to the market just down the road, and gave me directions that even I could follow. With my suitcase packed I was off camera in hand, and with a sense of renewed confidence.
On the way I crossed paths with Anne, one of the percussionists who wanted to go and get some Chinese bowls like the ones we had been using in the restaurants but knew exactly what she was after. So off we both went to the market. I’m going to use a phrase that I used on Foshan. A “joyeux bordel!” The market was on the ground floor of a building that rose about as high as our expectations. So pretty high. As you will see in the photos there was stuff everywhere and each shop looked as if it morphed into the next one. If you had ever wanted to start a restaurant business, they could cater for every single one of your needs. They had stoves, kitchen tools, woks of all shapes and sizes, cookers designed specifically for woks. All kinds of crockery to put said food into and serve it to your guests. I could hardly believe my eyes. You could buy sound systems, display cabinets, even those electric Mahjong tables that we saw in Shenzhen. It was extraordinary, and it was full of people buying and selling. Everyone back home always decries the made in China, but over 1billion people be wrong? I was very impressed by the whole thing, and seeing things that we I thought of my son straight away who, like me, is a bit of a foodie and who loves cooking. All we really need is somebody who loves doing the washing up afterwards and we’d be onto a winner…
We both managed to find what we were looking for so all in all today was turning out much better than the previous night’s fiasco. This success and eventual pleasing my son just put me in a positive mood for the day. I got back to the hotel room to pick up my case and instrument and stow away my latest additions to the family cooking utensils. And it was sunny ,and it was a relief to feel something fresh, something clear. What more could you ask for? It felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
The change in mood from the night before was undeniable—subtle but meaningful. After a rough start, today was a quiet triumph. Finding the market, picking out those perfect cooking chopsticks for Kilian, and stepping into the sunshine felt like small victories, but they added up to something more significant. It wasn’t a grand transformation, but it was enough to shift my outlook for the day.
New Year, new me? Maybe. But I’m taking things one step at a time. For now, I’ll settle for the fact that, for once, things felt a little more bearable. And in a world that so often feels overwhelming, that, in itself, is enough. Sometimes it’s the smallest wins—the unexpected moments of clarity—that make the biggest difference.
As the bus carried us to the next town, I didn’t know what the rest of the day would bring. But, for once, there was a quiet sense of relief—small steps that didn’t feel like setbacks. It wasn’t a grand victory, but for today, it was enough. Sometimes, it’s the smallest wins that make all the difference.
What could be a more contemporary expression of self than the modern selfie? For some, it represents a genuine connection, while for others, it becomes a carefully curated fantasy shared on Instagram in pursuit of self-importance—think #lifestyle, #ootd, or #memyselfandI. These representations can evoke mixed feelings about the authenticity of self-expression.
However, this is not how I view photography as a reflection of self. Photography is the only art form that allows the viewer to look through the lens just as I did when I pressed the shutter button. You see exactly what I saw in that moment, and, depending on how I edited the photo, you may catch a glimpse of the emotions swirling in my mind at that time.
Consider two people facing each other, a coin held up between them. One sees the heads side, while the other sees the tails. Each perspective offers only a partial view of the whole object, much like how each photograph can convey different meanings and emotions depending on the viewer’s interpretation. This highlights the importance of taking in the entire picture. But it’s not just this perspective that changes the way each individual looks at the coin, but all the personality and life experience that the person brings.
So, what about the expression of my identity and worldview? You might detect my state of mind through the subject matter of the photograph. If you see one of my photos taken during the anti-government demonstrations in Nantes, you might draw conclusions about my political leanings, when in reality, I was completely neutral about the situation. Here, the viewer adds their own interpretation to what they see, imagining this world and identifying with the picture in a way that is relevant to them. I think we all are guilty of that. My worldview, too, may show through—an insight into the world around me and how I choose to see and document it, since you are witnessing a moment in time as I saw it.
But why press the shutter button at a particular moment and not 1 second before, or 1 second after? Cartier Bresson talked about capturing the decisive moment. I try and make sure that I have no distracting elements. I try and get my subject right where I want them, or wait for them to cross the scene at a certain spot. Does this mean that I miss shots? Yes, but it’s all part of the game! Have I become a self-hating perfectionist? Fortunately, no. But do I try and make that extra effort? Definitely. I owe it to myself, but to the viewer of the resulting photo. Some might talk about a certain professional conscience, but if you’re going to do something, then try and do your best?
Personal Growth
This is a tricky subject, as I’m not entirely certain that my subject matter has evolved as I have. Am I still taking the same old photos as I used to? Possibly. Yet there are new techniques I’ve picked up along my learning journey. I may have started learning about photography over 40 years ago, but I’ve never stopped. In the last ten years alone, I’ve learnt so much, often with YouTube as my teacher. I’ve expanded my knowledge of film—how to use it and develop it—and I’ve learnt more about editing. I might just mention that I trained in “Desktop Publishing” back in 2003. Twenty years ago… time flies! Lots of Photoshop, Illustrator, and QuarkXpress.
New equipment and different lenses have allowed me to explore wide-angle photography and, as they say, “get it out of my system.” But is it really out, or have I simply explored it enough to satisfy my curiosity for the time being? I will, no doubt, revisit it again. This exploration has clearly shaped the way I view a scene, and I now know how to use the distortion it offers as another stylistic string to my bow. Wide angles enable me to alter how the subject is seen, making a more significant impact on the viewer, who experiences something distinctly out of the ordinary. It’s a small but meaningful addition to my work that could offer that extra something to a potential client.
I’ve grown more confident in my photography over time through consistency and practice. Getting out there with your camera is, without a doubt, the way to go. Some might accuse me of relying on gear, but I feel that I’ve genuinely put the hours in to master certain aspects of this craft and to have a certain self confidence in my abilities as a photographer.
Do I take the same photos that I did back in 1987 and now? In certain ways, yes. Because my personality shines through the photograph. However back in 1987 I was concerned just about nailing the exposure, and didn’t have the knowledge and photographic culture that I do today in 2024. I was also a 15 year old back in 1987, and am now over 50. The essential part of who I am remains, but my life experience has changed me, as it would anyone over 35 years.
Cultural Context
You might not know this about me, but I have lived in France for the last thirty years. More time than I lived at “home” in the UK. Has that affected my photography in any way? Maaaaybe…
France is the home of Cartier Bresson, and Doisneau, and their wonderfully crafted street photography. Yes, I have explored their work and have been amazed by it, and amazed by the simplicity in certain shots of theirs, but a deceptive simplicity that takes so much time to emulate. So yes, I have been influenced by French culture. It forms the way I look at the world around me, especially when in the streets of Nantes and I feel their influence accompanying me as I wander around the streets. It’s also the subject matter that changes from country to country. Just look at the difference between my two countries, the UK and France.
But it doesn’t stop there. I have been influenced by photographers that I see on the Internet. Names like Sean Tucker, Thomas Heaton, James Popsys, Mango Street, Peter McKinnon, and Jamie Windsor spring to mind and their videos have certainly been a huge influence on me. And there’s not even one Frenchman in that short list… It’s not that I reject French youtubers, but when at work I have to make the effort to speak French, when I am outside my house I have to make the effort to speak French, aso when at home I prefer to keep things in my mother tongue. It’s a me problem, and not a them problem.
Conclusion: The Lens of Self-Reflection
Photography, at its core, is about more than just taking pictures; it’s about capturing fragments of identity and moments of personal evolution. While the images we create may reflect the world around us, they also tell the story of how we see ourselves and the ever-changing lens through which we view the world.
What I’ve come to realise is that photography isn’t just a technical pursuit or a series of compositions—it’s a mirror. Through it, I’ve discovered not only the nuances of the world but the nuances within myself. From the early days of worrying over exposure to now, when the process feels more like a conversation with the scene, I have grown not just as a photographer, but as an individual.
Yet, this growth is never complete. Photography, like life, is a journey with no clear destination. The influences, the techniques, and even the subjects will continue to shift as I evolve. What remains constant is the intention: to connect, to reflect, and to capture not just an image, but a piece of time that speaks to who I am, and who I am becoming.
In the end, photography is an act of constant reinvention. Each shutter press is an opportunity to redefine the self and understand the world a little better, one image at a time.
I have been writing for this blog since 2019, and it seems I am still here, sharing my thoughts on photography and its role in my life. Photography, alongside music, appears to be one of the few things I do quite well. Another talent, it seems, is writing, as evidenced by the fact that just over 13,200 of you have viewed this site over 51,000 times since I started this project. I’m not saying this to show off, since for a British subject of His Majesty King Charles III, it is formally forbidden to blow one’s own trumpet—a social faux pas—and, were I to be completely honest, the behaviour of a cad!
However, when somebody else does it, those social cues are no longer applicable. Sir Foxy Foxalot — aka Fox Reviews Rock for those in the know — does the same kind of thing as I do. His expertise lies in Rock Music and Heavy Metal, genres I might not be very knowledgeable about. However, learning something new is always a voyage of discovery. We have been following each other for some months now, gradually learning about our different worlds and coming to appreciate each other’s forays into the blogosphere.
Recently, he sent out a message asking for volunteers to be interviewed by him and answer some questions on Rock and Heavy Metal. Being the decent chap and all-around good egg that I try to be, I said that despite my ignorance, I would be delighted to participate.
Despite my limited knowledge of the genre, I did spend three years working with the famous and infamous Christophe “Bobonne” Bonnin, who taught me all I know. He introduced me to a certain Tennessee Bourbon, a favourite of the late Lemmy, bass player and singer of Motorhead, and an all-round legend. Lemmy has a memorial at Hellfest in the quaint village of Clisson, which becomes the centre of all things Metal once a year. I even learned that he had a custom-made case for his bass, with compartments for said Bourbon, his bass, and a packet of cigarettes. Despite the much-vaunted medicinal properties of the aforementioned Bourbon, don’t overdo it, chaps!Let me tell you more about the man behind Fox Reviews Rock. Like me, he has dedicated himself to writing about his passion, and despite having been at it for a relatively short time, he has acquired quite the following. His output is impressive, and he maintains a very high standard. He has also had the great intelligence to surround himself with an excellent writing team. His articles, though about a subject I know little about, are always a good read. I also enjoy the structure of his blog. Check out his weekly schedule here. What more can I say, except get your pretty self to his site and check him out. It’s quite the blossoming project, run by those who are passionate about their subject. Tell him I said hi!
PS. Here is the link to the article they wrote about me. Go and visit it right now. Off you go. No messing around. You’ll like it!
In the sanctuary of my thoughts, where the gentle glow of lamplight dances upon well-worn bookshelves, I find solace from the chaos of the world. With my dog, Molly, by my side, I embark on a journey of introspection.
As someone who values quiet reflection and nuanced understanding, I’ve learned to appreciate the delicate equilibrium that enriches a fulfilling life. Amidst the pursuit of knowledge and creative expression, it’s easy to become ensnared in the whirlwind of activity, neglecting personal well-being in the relentless chase for success.
Yet, amidst the simplicity of my surroundings, among the familiar scents of brewed tea and the soft hum of a jazz record playing in the background, I am reminded of a timeless truth: genuine fulfillment springs not from ceaseless striving, but from nurturing inner peace and harmony.
For photographers and thinkers alike, the quest for excellence can exact a toll on the spirit, leaving behind exhaustion and doubt. Each moment of creation demands both physical exertion and emotional resilience.
But amid life’s ebbs and flows, it’s crucial to honor the sanctity of body and mind, to heed the whispers of intuition and the call of the soul. What value is there in a well-crafted image or a finely wrought idea if born from weariness?
In my own journey as a seeker of beauty and understanding, I’ve come to embrace moments of stillness and contemplation, carving out time for rest and reflection amidst the bustle of daily life. Whether reveling in solitude or feeling the gentle caress of a cool breeze, I’ve discovered that inspiration often arises from quiet depths.
Photography serves as a therapeutic outlet for many, offering respite from the pressures of modern life. Through the lens, we enter a realm of infinite possibilities where time seems to slow and worries fade into the background. Immersed in the act of creation, we create a space where anxiety and overthinking lose their grip, replaced by a sense of calm and clarity.
For those grappling with depression or loneliness, photography can serve as a lifeline, gently coaxing us out of isolation and into the embrace of the world. As we wander with camera in hand, we become mere observers, detached from the chaos that threatens to overwhelm. In framing a shot, we find solace in the simple beauty of the moment, forging a connection with the world that soothes the soul and restores the spirit.
When I’m not at my desk, crafting articles or editing photos to share with you, I’m exploring this balance between creativity and self-care, constantly striving to find harmony in my own life.
In the tranquil sanctuary of creativity and self-discovery, photography emerges not only as a means of capturing fleeting moments but also as a powerful tool for nurturing personal wellness. Through our cameras, we embark on a journey of exploration and introspection, finding solace in the beauty of the world and sanctuary in the act of creation.
As we navigate the complexities of modern life, let us honor the delicate balance between ambition and well-being. Photography offers us a pathway to reconnect with ourselves and the world, inviting us to embrace stillness amidst the chaos and find beauty in the ordinary.
Whether framing the perfect shot or crafting prose to accompany our images, let us remember the profound interconnectedness between creativity and personal wellness. By prioritizing self-care and mindfulness in our photographic practices, we not only enhance our capacity for artistic expression but also cultivate a deeper sense of harmony and fulfillment in our lives. Even if our endeavors don’t always yield the desired result, it’s essential to recognize that the journey itself is as, if not more, important than the destination.
So, dear reader, as you embark on your own photographic journey, may you find solace in the act of creation, clarity in moments of quiet contemplation, and inspiration in the beauty that surrounds you. May your photographs serve not only as snapshots of the world but also as windows into the depths of your soul, guiding you towards a life of greater balance and well-being.
It would appear to be that time of year when everyone greets each other with the quasi obligatory Bonne Année. Usually followed by some generic wish such as Santé, Bonheur, and even Prospérité. Some have even dared to reduce it too Bonne et Heureuse… But let’s not talk about them.
A Message of Hope and Peace
I wish you a very Happy New Year. I wish you what you need to get through 2024, and what you need to affront the difficulties that you may face. But most of all, I wish you Peace. I wish you the peace that is said when Jesus said Peace be with you, or Shalom, or As-salamu alaykum. That inner Peace that we receive from our creator. This peace will bring you much more joy than mere health, happiness, and success. I think it goes much further than this “worldly” greeting.
Finding Peace in Solitude and Family
Over the Christmas period I have been on holiday, and have managed to find some of this more deeper notion of peace. I greatly appreciate my colleagues, but it was lovely just being with my family. And like with the Covid lockdowns, it gave me space, and rest, but most importantly, it gave me time. Time to be with my wife and children. Time to just be in their presence and feel the joy that they give out.
The Joy of Ironing and Shoe Shining
It also gave me time to complete my ironing and get that pile “done”. There were things that had been waiting so patiently. Even my cotton handkerchiefs which are a joy to iron. Humanity seems to fall into two groups, no, not male and female, but those who iron and those who don’t. I am in the former and my wife is in the latter. I met my wife back in 1992 and I used to wear green for a living. That poor girl once tried ironing my uniform, and I was stupid, foolish, a bit rash, a complete eejit, and declared don’t touch things that you know nothing about. I had been taught to iron firstly by my mother and became adept at ironing cotton hankies. We all have to start somewhere. My training continued with those gentlemen who wear green for a living and therefore have to be immaculately dressed at every hour of the day or night. They would explain how to iron everything from A to Z and then we would do the same. We were then expected to execute the same task to the same high standard. I still have nightmares about tramlines. If you know, you know. And if you don’t know, then that’s one less traumatic event to have to share with your therapist. Needless to say, my Dear wife has not ironed since 1992, and that task has fallen to me. I learnt my lesson and now keep my mouth shut. I also learnt how to shine shoes, taught by those same men in green. So I took the time to go through every single pair in the house, shining them and making them like new and being complimented by my wife who had the impression of having new shoes. Some could be repaired but the repair costs would have been more than the shoes were worth. Those loved shoes are now in a better place.
A Rejuvenating Holiday with Loved Ones
Time, time, and more time. You wondrous thing. The kitchen needed attention, and is now looking loved as well as lived in. My children cooked the Christmas Eve meal for us and they did themselves proud. I said that I was available if needed and they only asked me to do a tartare sauce. So I did.
Grateful for Family and Faith
Time, time again. On Christmas Day I always put my foot down and insist they come to church with me. So, they were spared Midnight mass, Dawn Mass, and even morning mass, but they were with me for the evening mass. I’ve talked about this before, but again, this is so important to me and it always feels wonderful. Happy New Year Dear Reader, I wish you Peace for 2024, and may your God bless you.
IJM Photography 