Morning everyone, bit of a short one today but got something planned for Friday’s post that should be worth the wait.

So over the past couple of months, landscape photography has really taken hold of me. There’s something about it that feels different from any other kind of photography I’ve done before. It’s not just about framing up a scene and pressing the shutter—it’s about the process, the journey, and the challenge that comes with it.

Instagram has changed. What started as a simple photo-sharing platform has evolved into something much bigger—and, depending on who you ask, something completely different. Reels, Instagram’s short-form video feature, has become a major part of how content is shared and discovered. But for photographers, this shift brings up a real question: Are Reels good or bad for showcasing photography?

Let’s break it down.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about expanding this blog in a way that brings more voices into the mix. The idea of guest writers has been on my mind—a way to introduce fresh perspectives, different experiences, and topics that might not usually come up here.

Balancing work, everyday life, and a creative side hustle isn’t easy. There’s always something demanding time—whether it’s job responsibilities, personal projects, or just making sure you’re present for the important people in your life. For me, that balance means managing work while still making time for photography, cars, and, of course, spending time with my girlfriend and my cats (can’t forget them).

Happy Monday,

I’d like to talk about something that’s been on my mind all weekend and that’s if there’s one lesson that keeps showing up in different parts of my life, it’s this: consistency is key. Whether it’s photography, maintaining this blog, working on new ideas, running (which is something new for me), or even keeping my car in good shape—consistency makes everything easier.

OK, so first of all, film is sick.

There’s nothing quite like the anticipation of receiving your first set of film scans. After shooting my first roll of 35mm, I thought the excitement peaked when I handed it over to be developed—but I was wrong. The eagerness in which I waiting for the email to land in my inbox with the scans attached was somewhat like waiting on freshly ordered car parts to be delivered.

Welcome back, this one is an ode to all the newer photographers out there. Some tips and things you may find useless but mostly, I want to motivate you. If you're interested in photography, there's one simple truth you need to know: if you are interested in taking photos, go take photos. That’s it. That’s the big secret. You don’t need a £6,000 camera, a bag full of lenses, or years of technical knowledge before you start. Some of the best photographers in history didn’t have half the equipment available today, and yet they captured incredible images. Photography is about learning to see, understanding light, and training your eye—not just owning the latest gear.

When I first got into photography, I didn’t sit through a full course or read every manual cover to cover. I watched a couple of YouTube videos, figured out where the important buttons were on my camera, and then just went out and started taking pictures. It was messy, sometimes frustrating, but always exciting. And that’s exactly how it should be.

Well good morning, another Monday is here. Just a little short one today, I’ve been writing a little entry for Wednesday that’s a bit bigger, so look out for that if you are a weekly reader.

Before I start, I just want to thank everyone who subscribed recently. We’ve had readers from the UK to as far as Japan and it blows my mind. I appreciate all of you for checking in. Our page views and visit count has been ticking up nicely and I’m buzzed to see people subscribing to read the full blog posts. I’ve had a couple people reach on our DMs on Instagram which has been cool as well. Thank you to everyone again.

So…

Back to the title. Today, we talk about cars.

Loading my first roll of 35mm film, Kodak Ultra Max, felt like the true beginning of this new journey into film photography. There was something ritualistic about it—snapping open the back of the camera, carefully slotting the film canister into place, threading the leader through the take-up spool, and gently advancing the film to make sure it caught properly.

There’s something uniquely special about holding a photograph in your hands—something tangible, something real. For years, my work has lived on screens, viewed through monitors, phones, and tablets. But recently, I decided to change that. I ordered my first print. And when the parcel finally arrived, I realised just how different it feels to experience your work in the physical world.

There’s something uniquely rewarding about feeling like a beginner again. It strips away the pressure of perfection and reminds you of the excitement that comes with trying something new. That’s exactly how I’ve been feeling since picking up film photography—a sense of rediscovery that has reignited my passion for capturing the world through a lens.

For as long as I can remember, and as I alluded to in the last post, the idea of owning a film camera felt romantic—a connection to photography’s roots, a way to slow down and embrace the craft in its purest form. But I know myself and I knew the process of buying the right one, wouldn’t be an easy process.

I started searching in the usual places: Facebook Marketplace, local car boot sales, even second-hand shops…

When I first picked up a camera, it was a digital DSLR. Like many others, I was drawn to the convenience, the ability to review shots instantly, and the infinite do-overs. It was a safe way to experiment, to learn, and to build confidence without worrying about wasting film or missing a moment. But in the back of my mind, film photography always had this mystique about it—a sense of timelessness, intentionality, and artistry that digital couldn’t quite replicate.

When it comes to coffee, I’ve always been a bit of a French press loyalist. There’s something about the simplicity of it—the ritual of boiling water, waiting for the brew, and plunging down the filter. But recently, I found myself intrigued by the Moka pot. That iconic stovetop coffee maker has been a staple in Italian households for decades, and I thought, “Why not give it a go?” Little did I know, this small contraption would forever change how I enjoy my morning cup.

When I started this blog, my goal was simple: to create a space where people who enjoy similar things can connect. Whether it’s a shared love for coffee, creativity, or just finding better ways to enjoy the everyday, I wanted this to be a place where those interests come together.