Walking Forward, Looking Back

This is the time of year when we can feel like we are in limbo as we consider what was in the past year and what is yet to be in the year ahead. It can leave us stuck between inertia and momentum, confusion and clarity. That is very much how I have started 2026.

I find myself dealing with a backlog of photography projects, frustrated with myself for not being more efficient. I am eager to start something new, yet resentful that I cannot do so because of the weight of the unfinished work.

So I turned to one of my favourite guides, the philosophical photographer Sean Tucker for advice. He suggests beginning by celebrating my growth as a creative, and so I have spent some time looking back over the past year. One of the advantages of writing a blog is that it documents my journey and I was surprised by how much I had done.

The year-long woodland photography course with  Charlotte Bellamy significantly developed both my technical ability and my creativity. I am now able to revisit very familiar places with new eyes, as Jennie C. Stephens, writes:

“Unlearning describes the process of letting go of existing and constraining knowledge, beliefs, behaviours, and assumptions to allow for appreciation of new perspectives and information that may not align with our previous understanding.

(in Climate Justice and the University: Shaping a Hopeful Future for All) 

As part of the course, I was also encouraged to explore unfamiliar woods. I found unexpected pleasure in just walking through them. As Psarris notes: "To walk is to produce a line of experience; an assemblage of gathered interactions between self and the world. While walking we connect past, present and future." Even returning to familiar places with a different intention, such as my visit to Stone Lane gardens for a haiku workshop, shifted my way of seeing.

Alongside photography, I have been brave and branched into other creative practises: mindful watercolour painting, cyanotypes, even a beginner's art class in Cornwall. As Kevin Lay describes in My Walking Practice these are 'tiny acts of courage' that slowly expand my sense of what is possible.

This year, travel has also played a part in my growing understanding of cultural creativity. Journeys to London, Paris, Scotland and South Africa have opened up new visual landscapes. Visiting art galleries has been a delight, once again encountering the familiar alongside the new and reshaping my perspectives.

At the heart of all this I realise that there is a deeper question: why do I continue with photography at all, if at present it feels like a burden, as I am overwhelmed with the backlog of unfinished projects and shamed by the lost opportunities? The answer lies partly in mindfulness, the way I can get lost in the process of image creation, partly in what it gives me through time spent outdoors, immersed in nature, and partly the sharing of ideas with friends also engaged in this journey.

Over the past year, workshops led by thoughtful and skilled creatives have been energising. And yet, once home, I stall, and quietly sabotage myself. No-one will ever see the work that I produce but perhaps the hurdle is that I don't quite see myself as 'good enough' - as a painter, a sketcher, a printer. I need to find a way to sustain these practices independently, deliberately weaving them into my creative practice rather than relying on external encouragement. As Jennie reminds us: "Transformation also requires intentionally letting go of perspectives and practices that are constraining us or no longer serving us." (in Climate Justice and the University: Shaping a Hopeful Future for All) 

Looking ahead, I want to spend more time with other media - painting, gelli printing, cyanotypes - allowing them to add different dimensions to my photography. Writing this down will hopefully help to firm up this intention.

I also want to continue to loosen my desire for approval and positive feedback. Now I am retired, I have gone past the need for approval for my work. I aim to be gentler with myself, more relaxed about what I make and why.

As Sean Tucker reminds us, it is time to wash off old fears and failures, and step into a new season. And Kim Grant would add, try to be present in the moment rather than constantly recording. Not everything needs to be documented, sometimes it is enough simply to be there.

And to finish, some intriguing words from Rebecca Solnit in her Field Guide to Getting Lost: "Leave the door open for the unknown, the door into the dark. That's where the most important things come from, where you yourself came from, and where you will go."

#oldyearnewyear; #lookingback; #photographicyear;