Havana Diaries- Lesson 12: All In: The Art of Seeing, Anywhere

Photography is, without question, the most inspiring, enthralling, and captivating thing I do in life. It’s my craft, my purpose, and my way of connecting to the world. But it’s also demanding—taxing, even exhausting—because of how I approach it: all-in, all the time.

For me, photography isn’t just something I do. It’s a solo experience, a deeply personal and private process where the act of looking and seeing takes precedence. The technical and mechanical side—focusing, metering, adjusting settings—is second nature after more than four decades of practice across multiple cameras and formats. That part is reflexive, automatic, like muscle memory.

But the art of seeing? That’s where the effort lies.

Seeing requires intention, attention, and full immersion. It’s about identifying a subject, monitoring how the light plays on it, composing for simplicity, and celebrating color. Seeing demands presence, and presence requires energy.

Take Casablanca, for example. This small ward of Havana, Cuba, located across the bay from central Havana in the Regla borough, could easily be dismissed as nothing more than a wide-spot-in-the-road. It’s quieter than the bustling streets of Havana proper, with a charm that’s subtle and unassuming. It’s the kind of place where you don’t just snap a photo; you sink into it, let it reveal itself to you.

To get there, we took the ferry—a short but scenic ride that felt like a transition from chaos to calm. We arrived in the late afternoon, the light already beginning its golden descent. Ninety minutes. That’s all the time we had to explore and shoot.

In those ninety minutes, through my lens, I saw more than I expected.

But here’s the thing: seeing wasn’t about looking harder or longer. It was about stripping away distractions and letting the place speak to me. The light became my guide, pulling me toward subjects that danced in its glow. Compositions unfolded naturally as I moved, framing moments of simplicity and celebrating the colors that make Havana so visually intoxicating.

This process is what makes photography both exhilarating and exhausting. The act of seeing is all-consuming. It demands you pour yourself into it completely, whether you’re standing in the grandest of landscapes or the humblest of places like Casablanca.

For me, photography will always be about the seeing. It’s what transforms the ordinary into the extraordinary. And while it may be taxing, it’s worth every ounce of effort. Because in those moments, I’m not just looking at the world—I’m truly seeing it.

That, to me, is the heart of photography.

Click.

Jack.

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Jack Hollingsworth
Photographer