Conclusion: Reflecting on the Philosophy of Photography


As we reach the end of A Photography Philosophy Series, I hope this journey has been as rewarding for you as it has been for me. Through these articles, we’ve explored the philosophy behind why we photograph—going beyond equipment and technique to dig into the heart of what makes photography so meaningful. Each theme in the series has shed light on a unique layer of photography, from capturing emotions to telling stories, reflecting identity, building connections, and even embracing impermanence.

We began with Why Do We Photograph?—a question that sits at the root of every image we capture. For some, photography is about preserving memories; for others, it’s about self-expression, documenting moments, or sharing perspectives. Over time, our reasons for photographing often shift and evolve, bringing more layers to our work as we grow. This first article set the tone for the series by reminding us that photography is a deeply personal journey, and our motivations shape each image we create.

Then we delved into The Emotions of Photography, exploring how images can carry feelings, from joy and nostalgia to solitude and contemplation. Photography allows us to express emotions that words often fail to capture, communicating through light, composition, and mood. Each photograph holds the potential to resonate with viewers in a way that feels both personal and universal, offering a window into the photographer’s emotional landscape.

The Art of Storytelling in Photography came next, where we looked at how images can create narratives—small windows into people, places, or moments that form part of a larger story. Photography has a remarkable way of capturing both detail and the bigger picture, allowing us to document stories that speak to shared experiences or unique perspectives. In a world full of words, photographs can often tell a story with a quiet eloquence.

In Identity and Self-Expression, we explored how photography offers a chance to express who we are and what we see. Our images inevitably reflect parts of ourselves—our backgrounds, our worldview, and our personal journey. For many, photography is as much a journey of self-discovery as it is a creative practice, helping us find our own voice and share it with others. Photography encourages us to see ourselves more clearly and to reveal something of that to the world.

Then came Connection Through Photography, a theme close to my heart. Photography, as we’ve seen, can forge connections—between photographer and subject, among fellow photographers, or with viewers who see something of themselves in the image. These connections remind us that we’re not alone in this world; they foster a sense of community, shared understanding, and empathy that goes beyond language. Photography has a unique power to unite us, even if only for a moment.

Lastly, we explored The Philosophy of Impermanence, where we reflected on the fleeting nature of each photograph. Every image captures a moment that can never be repeated, lending photography its unique poignancy. Impermanence reminds us to treasure the moment and see beauty in the transient. Photography, like life itself, is filled with unexpected moments, and it’s often the imperfections or mistakes that give images their authenticity and depth.

As we close, I invite you to reflect on your own photographic journey. What drives you to take photographs? Which themes resonate most with you—capturing emotions, telling stories, connecting with others, or perhaps embracing impermanence? These reflections aren’t just theoretical ideas; they form the personal philosophy that shapes how each of us approaches photography.

Ultimately, photography is about connecting with the world and each other through shared moments and meanings. If this series has encouraged you to think more deeply about your motivations, experiences, and the meaning behind your work, then I hope you’ll carry those reflections forward. Photography gives us a way to see, to understand, and to share in ways that words alone can’t.

Thank you for joining me on this exploration. I’d love to hear about your own experiences—what drives you, what connects you, and how photography shapes your view of the world. Let’s keep the conversation going and continue building a community of thoughtful photographers, one image at a time.

Opening of the Film Archives, Château de Clisson, February 2017


I had obviously taken a break with the Canon AE1 and spent the whole of December and January in hibernation, as most grumpy bears of my age do. Get Christmas over with, then go back to bed… I like my bed. No, I love my bed!!

Spring was just around the corner, and Kate had managed to awaken the beast and proceeded to tell me what she had planned for the day. It included me, a camera, and the Chateau de Clisson. I had just been “told” by my daughter, and off we headed to Clisson.

Now, the Chateau de Clisson is no small affair by any means. It dominates the centre of the town, sitting atop a hill as an imposing structure. I remember Kate having begged me on numerous occasions to actually go inside, and this time I acquiesced.

It was the perfect opportunity to not only document the inside of this historic site but also to let my playful daughter do what children do best: be cute, or as they say in French, espiègle. At that age, she was still content to pose for the camera, unlike the moody teenager she has become. Yet, sometimes, that same playful nature still manages to shine through.

If you’re curious to learn more about the history of the Chateau de Clisson, I’ve included a link for further reading.

After our outing in Clisson, I retreated to the quiet of my darkroom, where the real magic happens—transforming the captured moments into tangible memories. The familiar routine of developing the film, loading it into the tank, and watching the images slowly emerge never fails to captivate me. Once the negatives are ready and the scans are complete, I file them away in both my digital and analogue archives.

Then, a few years later, I get to share these memories with you. It’s a special kind of nostalgia—the kind that comes with taking time to slow down, reflect, and preserve what matters most. Thank you for joining me on this journey and for allowing me to share these pieces of the past with you.

The Opening of the Film Archives: On va Marcher sur la Lune, Kate


Last week’s journey through the film archives took us to Nantes, specifically the Île de Nantes. While you’ve seen my photos from that day, I’m excited to share my daughter Kate’s photos with you.

Are these images works of art deserving of a gallery? Perhaps not, but they represent a delightful exercise in spontaneity. Captured by a seven-year-old “playing” with a camera, they offer a unique glimpse into how my young daughter sees the world. There are no rigid rules of photography or composition here—just an extension of her eyes. These photos are raw yet delicate, showcasing the world as she perceived it at that moment.

These photos mean a great deal to me, particularly the one she took of me with that glorious moustache! I’ve often discussed how the journey and process of photography can sometimes be even more meaningful than the final destination. That day was a significant part of that journey, and reflecting on my own first photos from that age fills me with nostalgia.