I didn’t begin photography with a plan or a direction; I simply followed what felt natural, not realising I was already walking a path that was entirely my own. Before I knew what I was doing In 2011, a friend handed me her camera and encouraged me to take a few photographs. That moment stayed with me. I photographed whatever caught my attention—random scenes, passing moments, fragments of everyday life. Some images had intention, most did not. But after a few frames, I reali

There’s a strange calm in knowing that you won’t see what you’ve made until much later. Here's my reflection on slowing down to see again — through the grain, the wait, and the wonder of film. When certainty felt too easy For more than a decade, I lived comfortably in the digital world. The precision, the immediacy, the control — they all felt empowering. Yet somewhere along the way, it became too predictable. Every photograph appeared perfect, but it lacked the quiet imperfe

Large-format photography gives you something few other formats can — complete control over perspective and focus. These camera movements aren’t just technical adjustments; they’re gestures that shape how the world translates onto film. Each movement—tilt, shift, swing, or rise/fall—carries both precision and poetry Tilt: Finding focus beyond the plane Tilt allows you to change the angle of the lens relative to the film plane. With a simple movement, you can bring both near an

Large-format photography is not just about using a bigger camera or film size — it’s about slowing down enough to truly see. It invites a kind of stillness that modern photography often rushes past. The inspirations for working in this format are not limited to technique; they emerge from the deeper relationship between the photographer, the subject, and the passing of time. Rediscovering the act of seeing With a large-format camera, seeing becomes deliberate. You compose o