I always wanted to tell stories, I just didn’t quite know it would end up in this way, in this medium.

When I was young I used to write, all the time. Writing and drawing, composing songs (and trying to sing them). I still write, obviously. But I don’t really draw, or compose anything except poetry from time to time, and I don’t sing. In my head I was always convinced I was going to be a ‘creative’, a famous writer. The usual dreams of any child with any kind of creative spark

I got lost on a meandering path for so many years. Dentist, writer, pilot, teacher, writer, manager, writer, ‘content creator’, vegan entrepreneur, (bad) jewellery maker, social media strategist, marketing specialist.

I  finally found my way back to storytelling, eventually, just this time with a camera in my hand, and living the adventures myself. 

This week somebody asked me if carrying a camera ruins the experience of adventuring for me.

Absolutely not. In fact, the camera enhances my experience. I notice the light more, the angles of far off jagged peaks, the breath spiralling out with each exhale, the little things. 

I’ve heard it so often said that looking through a lens can ruin an experience. To just ‘put it down and appreciate the view’ when I think it’s just another way of appreciating the view. A different way that is, yes, sometimes complicated by thoughts of ISO and aperture. 

 

And that’s not to say I don’t ever put it down, take a breath, and see the view through my own eyes with the camera dropped to my side, hanging unused. That does happen, a lot. And that’s not to also say that having it around doesn’t make things more difficult – it often does. It’s heavy to climb with, and slows me down, as I’m forever trying to a moment just right.

 But I think there’s always a price and I’m happy to pay it.