There are moments when I’m out with my camera, immersed in the act of seeing, where I completely lose track of time. I couldn’t tell you what day it was or even what hour. I’m not thinking about my schedule, my to-do list, or even where I am, exactly. It’s as if I’ve stepped outside of time, lost inside a canvas, or maybe within a photograph itself.
If there even is such a thing, I’m “inside art”.
And inside this art, is a world that only photographers are familiar with. Click
Inside this world, I don’t see subjects the way others do. I don’t compartmentalize my work into themes or topics.
That is not what normally inspires or attracts me.
My artist colleagues talk about their projects in those terms, but that’s never been how I see the world. Instead, I see light. I see color. I see shape, texture, form, and shadow. A symphony of elements that, when composed just right, become something greater than the sum of their parts. I don’t chase meaning—I chase beauty, and beauty is found in the details of the ordinary.
Click.
Each time I press the shutter, it feels like I’m adding another brushstroke to some grand, unfinished masterpiece. One that isn’t mine alone, but something greater—something that has always existed, waiting to be seen, to be understood, to be revealed. I suppose behavioral scientists would call this “being in the zone.” That place where time bends, distractions disappear, and all that exists is the act itself.
This doesn’t happen every time I pick up a camera. But for me, it happens more often than not.
When I’m in that space, my artistic sensibilities are heightened and exaggerated. I see the world more clearly, more intensely. The way light slants across a building, the way shadows carve out space, the way color hums when juxtaposed just right—these are the things that matter at that moment. The subject itself? Secondary. It doesn’t really matter what I’m shooting because, at its core, I’m not shooting objects or people or landscapes. I’m shooting art—light, color, and design.
And this is why I keep coming back to photography. Not for accolades. Not for clients or projects or deadlines. But for those fleeting moments when I am fully and completely present, lost in the rhythm of seeing, composing, capturing. It’s an instinct, a compulsion, a calling. I need to translate the world as I experience it, to distill it into something that feels true.
This is my process. My vision. My way of existing in the world.
Click.
Jack.
