Why Photography Matters #3

Especially Now

We live in a time of constant input.
The moment there's silence, we reach for our phones.
A message, an update, a headline.

The mind rarely rests.

But photography asks something else of us.

It doesn’t demand attention –
it invites it.

When I have a camera in my hand, I see more.
I notice the way the light bends around a window frame.
The crack in a wall. A shadow that looks like memory.

I move slower.
I look longer.

In a world where speed is default, photography is a pause.
A way to return to the present.

Not to capture it.
Just to be in it.

Salzburg, Austria 2024

On Light #2

And Why It’s Never Just Technical

I often get asked what kind of light I like to shoot in.

The golden hour? Cloudy skies? Hard contrast?

The answer isn’t a type of light.

It’s a mood.

I look for light that doesn’t scream.
That doesn’t try too hard.

The kind of light that slips through a door frame.
That touches a shoulder in a way no one notices.
That fades while you’re still figuring out the frame.

For me, light isn’t about exposure or sharpness.
It’s not about highlighting the subject.

Sometimes it is the subject.

And sometimes it’s what holds everything together –
quietly, patiently, barely visible.

That’s the kind of light I keep following.
Not to master it.

Just to stay with it a little longer.

Aoraki Mount Cook National Park, New Zealand 2024

Entry #1

Why I Photograph – And What I Don’t Want to Capture

Photography has been with me for over ten years.
Sometimes more present, sometimes fading into the background.
At times, it was a way to distract myself,
at others, the only way to focus.

Today, it’s mostly this:
A way to look – slower, deeper, quieter.

I don’t photograph to own something.
Not to prove anything, either.

I photograph to honor moments that might otherwise pass unnoticed.
To observe how light moves.
To make visible the quiet in-between.

I’m less interested in what’s loud.
More in what stays, gently – after it’s gone.

My images are made on film and digital,
while traveling or standing still.
With gear, yes – but never because of it.

It’s not about perfection.
It’s about what remains.

One More Light isn’t a project.
It’s my way of seeing the world –
and, maybe, of showing it.

Christchurch, New Zealand 2024