I posted this photo yesterday, and let’s just say—it caused a bit of a stir.
A perfectly staged, obsessively aligned flat-lay of all my iPhone photography gear. Filters, lenses, cages, clamps, lights, tripods, gimbals, mics, mounts, cases, cords, adapters, batteries, wireless remotes, dongles, doodads, and doohickeys. You name it. If it can be screwed on, charged up, or mounted to an iPhone, it’s probably somewhere in that shot.
I cheekily captioned it “Summer Cleaning.”
But people didn’t read that. They looked at the photo and assumed this was my daily carry setup—like I somehow walk out the door every morning dragging all this with me like some deranged mobile-photo prepper.
So let me set the record straight.
That isn’t my kit.
That’s my closet.
And depending on what I’m doing, I might pull three or four of these items out. Maybe. Or—I might take absolutely nothing and just walk out the door naked. (Phone-naked, relax.)
Let me explain.
Man vs. Machine: My Love-Hate Relationship with Gear
Photography has always been a war zone between the eye and the equipment. It’s an ancient struggle.
Do you let the gear lead? Or do you let the scene lead?
Do you bring the kitchen sink? Or do you bring nothing but instinct?
For most of my career—as a commercial photographer and now as a full-time iPhone shooter—I’ve leaned heavily toward minimalism. That hasn’t changed.
Even now, after a decade-plus of mobile shooting, when I could justify every cable and cage in that flat-lay as a “necessary tool,” I still believe this:
More gear usually gets in the way of better photography.
What you see in that photo isn’t what I carry. It’s what I own. And there’s a difference.
So let’s talk about how I actually work.
Case 1: Shooting Naked
(90% of the time, this is me)
By far, the majority of my photography is done stripped down. No case. No lens. No cage. Just the iPhone, my eyes, and whatever magic the world decides to throw at me that day.
I call it shooting naked.
And when I shoot this way, I don’t look like a photographer. I look like some guy checking his texts. I blend in. I move quietly. I observe.
Why?
Because I want zero separation between me and the moment.
No knobs to twist. No battery to charge. No filter to attach. No mic to adjust. Just light, subject, timing, emotion.
iPhone photography, at its purest, is intimate. Immediate. Instinctual.
That’s what I fell in love with.
Not the rigged-out Instagram reels of creators assembling a cinematic rig worthy of NASA. Just the freedom of simplicity.
That’s why most of the time, I leave all this gear right where it belongs—on the shelf.
Case 2: YouTube, Reels, and Course Content
(Here comes the nerd)
Now, when I’m making instructional content—like behind-the-scenes videos, screencasts, or workshop footage—then yes, I lean into the gear. Hard.
Because production value matters. Sound quality matters. Lighting matters. Framing matters.
So for these jobs, I might roll with:
A SmallRig cage with cold-shoe mounts
An external mic (maybe the Sennheiser MKE or Hollyland Lark M2)
A VND filter for controlling light
An LED fill light or two
A Lexar SSD drive for backups
Maybe even a Neewer tripod, Bluetooth trigger, or iPhone screen hood
I look like a mobile newsroom on wheels. Like I took a wrong turn out of a YouTuber convention. It’s absurd. But it’s effective.
And when I’m done, all that gear goes right back in the bin. Out of sight, out of mind.
Case 3: Client Work
(Practical. Professional. Portable.)
For client work, I split the difference. I want to look prepared, not pretentious.
Depending on the gig—whether it’s product shots, lifestyle, travel, interviews, or branded content—I’ll select a few key items from the shelf:
A grip tripod with Bluetooth shutter
A variable ND or circular polarizer
A lav mic or shotgun mic
Possibly a portable light panel
Maybe a backup battery and some basic lens cleaning gear
And that’s it.
I don’t show up like a pack mule. I show up ready to work, not ready to perform.
Clients don’t care how tricked out your kit is. They care about the end result.
And often, less gear means more focus on the moment—and fewer excuses when things go sideways.
So What Was That Photo Really About?
That “Summer Cleaning” image wasn’t meant to be aspirational. It wasn’t a “look at all my gear” flex. It was me saying:
“Hey, I’ve accumulated a lot of crap. Time to tidy up.”
Think of it as an audit. A photographic gear inventory. A visual spring cleaning.
Some of it I still use. Some of it I don’t. Some of it I don’t even remember buying. (Looking at you, weird lens-mounting donut thingy.)
But more than anything, that photo is proof of this truth:
You don’t need all of this.
You don’t need to look like a TikTok tech god to shoot amazing photos.
You don’t need a rig that could double as a cyborg exoskeleton.
You need vision. Curiosity. And the willingness to show up.
Gear Doesn’t Make the Photographer. Seeing Does.
It’s easy to confuse tools with talent. But at the end of the day, gear is just gear.
Photography happens in the moment. In your heart. In your gut. In the half-second before the shutter clicks.
It’s about feeling, not filtering.
The iPhone you already have is powerful enough to tell a lifetime’s worth of stories. You don’t need a suitcase of accessories to make that happen.
You just need to see.
So next time you look at a flat-lay like mine and feel the urge to panic-buy a drawer full of accessories?
Take a breath.
Put the phone in your hand.
And go shoot something beautiful.
Because the best camera bag in the world?
Is your back pocket.
Let me know if you want a humorous footnote like:
Disclaimer: No iPhone accessories were harmed in the making of this photo. But several were emotionally neglected and will be rehomed on eBay.
Or want this broken into sidebars, subheadings, or captions.
