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This is exactly what it says on the tin, a recount of every book I’ve read this year accompanied by a little illustrated cover inspired by the work of Lizzy Stewart who does an illustrated cover summary every year. I’ve put together this (very lengthy) list as much for my own memory as a chance to recommend some of the best things I’ve read this year. 

 

Next year I need to read more fiction again!

Recommended fiction

The Immortalists by Chloe Benjamin – This was a real page turner towards the end, it even got me wanted to get on the tube so I could finish it. It was a little obvious in its meaning at times but really did make me consider how I think about death and what it means to live.

The Ghost Wall by Sarah Moss – This was short and sharp. It was brutally disconcerting in places but brilliant, if a little heavy on the collecting of herbs.

Train Dreams by Denis Johnson – this tiny novella felt so profound it was almost a parable about creating a nation, a family and a life set against the wilds of the great American wilderness.

Recommended biographical writing

Becoming by Michelle Obama – There’s little extra I can add to the discussion of this book – brilliant, filled with insight and vulnerability. It offered a new look at a life I felt I knew from the outside as well as inspiration for pursuing what is meaningful for you and supports others. I’d recommend it as an audiobook particularly.

Rough Magic: Riding the World’s Loneliest Horse Race by Lara Prior-Palmer – I don’t like horses but I loved this account of how Prior-Palmer ended up riding in and winning the longest and toughest horse race, with very little training. It’s both a story of riding Mongolian ponies and a story of trying to ride to get out of yourself. It’s brilliantly written, poetic in moments, and avoids the long worn clichés of women in the wild.

Recommended non-fiction

Exposure by Olivia Sudjeic – This had the perfect balance in what I want in a personal piece of non-fiction, it was clever and well researched whilst remaining intimate and grounded in the writer’s experience. It had a clear rounding conclusion but didn’t preach answers. I really want to read Sympathy now as well.

Surveillance Capitalism by Shoshana Zuboff – This book changed the trajectory of my year and changed how I look at what I do in a profound way.

Stand out of our light by James Williams – I think this is the best primer on the attention economy I’ve read. It’s highly readable and quotable. Written as part of the Three Dots Prize, you can really tell the quality of both the personal and academic research that went into its writing.

Hello World by Hannah Fry – Algorithms shape our world but we know very little about them, because they’re shrouded in the mystery of being too technical for everyday people. Fry breaks down the big groups of algorithm by the kinds of goals they’re given and then offers examples that are easy to understand and to see both the pros and cons of their use.

Shackleton’s Journey by William Gill – I had coveted this book after seeing it on a friend’s shelf a few years ago, so I decided to treat myself to this illustrated wonder as birthday gift. It’s truly beautiful but so packed with information, I know it’s one I’ll dip into in quiet moments again and again over the years.

Wilding: The Return of Nature to a British Farm by Isabella Tree – This book left me hopeful and inspired about what a shift in how we farm could mean not only for our planet, but also our own sense of how we exist in nature. The fact that the Knepp estate project is real and ongoing lends so much more weight to Tree’s account than had it been an abstract account of what wilding might do. She does use the phrase “the results were astonishing” a little too much but the results really are astonishing.

Three Women by Lisa Taddeo – An enthralling read, you could truly tell how close Taddeo had become to the stories and the women she was sharing on the page. The pacing and way it kept me hooked had a similar quality to In Cold Blood, if a very different subject matter and voice. It was really something to read about women’s sexuality in a way that was just that women’s own sexuality.

Everything else in roughly time order

Mixed Race Superman by Will Harrison – This short account of the power of having role models that look like you, when you don’t feel you fit in. It included lots of thought provoking perspectives and two of my favourites (Obama and Keanu Reeves) but felt very academic in places and lacked a real conclusion.

What if this were enough by Heather Havrilesky – There were a few brilliant essays in the collection. Havrilesky is clearly a brilliant writer, but again I wanted more of a pay off, not necessarily an answer, but a rallying cry.

How to be alone by Sara Maitland – The history of isolation and independence was great the workbook was less engaging. 

What a Time to be Alone by Chidera Eggerue – I enjoyed the Igbo proverbs but little else. 

The Good Immigrant – As a collection of short stories, some were better than others (as in every collection) but it was a good reminder to take step outside of my self and my own sense of belonging more.

Him & Me by Jack & Michael Whitehall – I had hoped this would be a light break of an audiobook, but it really wasn’t as funny as I thought it would be.

Milkman by Anna Burns – I found this one tough to get into but worth it in the end. There were some really interesting style choices with the removal of names (mostly) and the very myopic narrator. As someone who has thought little about the struggles in Ireland it offered an interesting historical companion too. 

The UX Team of One: A Research and Design Survival Guide by Leah Burley – This wasn’t as revelatory as I would have liked. There were a few good tips but it was largely an account of what I/my team do day to day.

Calypso by David Sedaris – I really liked the essay on his relationship with the Fitbit, it rang true. But I’m not sure that I’m going to be a big David Sedaris reader in the future although I do think he’d be an interesting dinner guest.

The Rules Do Not Apply by Ariel Levy – This was an unflinchingly honest piece of memoir – what does it mean to confront who you really are flaws and all and to walk away still whole after losing so much? 

My Sister the Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite -This was so readable it felt like grown up YA, for want of a better description. It firmly planted me into another culture and set of social norms I’m not normally a part of though. 

Invisible Women by Caroline Criado Perez – This is a brilliantly put together account of how gendered gaps in the data we rely on to feed algorithms and make decisions perpetuate and exaggerate gendered inequality. It shone a light on a number of cases I never would have thought about otherwise. 

The Sellout by Paul Beatty – Clever and well written but I just don’t like satire. I’m sorry to the tutors who tried to teach me to like it, but I just really struggle.

Natives by Akala – Akala’s account of race and racism in the UK gives both a personal and an educational focus that, as someone privileged enough not to have experience racism, gave what he was sharing something tangible to hold onto. It lacked a real conclusion, but there is no neat ending to institutionalised inequality.

Asymmetry by Lisa Halliday – This is book of two asymmetrical parts. Both stories were interesting and very readable, but incredibly different. What engaged me with one was missing from the other and vice versa. The juxtaposition raised questions about asymmetry of power across groups, but because of my intense need for closure I was hoping they would join up more.

The Authentic Lie by Pandora Sykes – I think this Pound Project read pairs well with Exposure as another short read about the pressures on (particularly young women) to be “authentic” singular selves in a way that leaves us less able to be true to ourselves and feed our own needs.

A Field Guide to Getting Lost by Rebecca Solnit – This was beautifully written and a perfect read while on holiday walking. Some of the descriptions of paths and the distance in the introductory chapters will stay with me forever,

Duped by Abby Ellin – After being duped by a financé with a double life, Abby Ellin decided to investigate why people lie and why we’re so susceptible to being lied to. I had hoped this one would be a little more gripping, but the personal insights Ellin wove into her story and interviews held my interest.

The Friend by Sigrid Nunez – The cover drew me into this one. It’s a poignant tale of loss and friendship (both human and canine). As someone who has found solace in the unconditional quiet friendship of a dog it was a sentimental read that I loved enough to gift to a friend of my own.

Salt on My Tongue by Charlotte Runcie – Having enjoyed more than a few trips to the coast this year the exploration of what the sea means to us, and particularly what it has meant to women through the ages. I had hoped for a little more on the “women through the ages” but the reflections on motherhood woven in were a surprise hit. I don’t think I’ll ever think of coastal islands in the same way again.

Quiet by Susan Cain – I can’t count how many people have recommended this book to me over the years, so I’m not quite sure why it’s taken me so long to read it. As an introvert it was a reaffirming read that’s pushed me to own my own personality (more visibly if not loudly and) proudly. 

Anthropologies and Futures ed. Sarah Pink et al – An anthropology book that won’t be for all but I found some of the techniques used to get participants to think about the future fascinating. 

I Love Dick by Chris Kraus – This is a collection of writing that’s not really sure what it is and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I could tell why it had all of the praise it had but it left me a little cold.

My Absolute Darling by Gabriel Tallent – This is a haunting page turner. I wanted the scenes out in nature to go on for longer but the ending felt right and true. It’s not for the faint of heart and it made me wish that novels relied on the trauma of children less. But I did swallow it almost whole.

Solitude by Michael Harris – Perhaps the best book on being alone and why we need to be on our own sometimes that I’ve read this year, and I’ve read a few.

Design Anthropology: Object Cultures in Transition ed. Wendy Gunn, Ton Otto, Rachel Charlotte Smith – “This book is written by anthropologists who actively participate in the development of design anthropology [providing an] introduction to the concepts, methods, practices and challenges of the new field” It was interesting to have a more physical approach to ethnographic research rather than the more digital work I do, but the academic methods it contained weren’t as inspirational or as cutting edge as I might have hoped.

The Science of Storytelling by Will Storr – Storr’s research into the neuroscience and psychology of stories led him to a character driven concept (rather than an action driven one) of how we engage with narrative. It’s a refreshing take on a well researched area, but it might be one where you can watch the TED talk and get enough out of that.

Yes Please by Amy Poehler – This book was exactly what I wanted it to be, a moment to have Amy Poehler laugh me into a kick up the bum to get going on what I want to do.

Faces in the Crowd by Valeria Luiselli – As much as this is a layered “vertical narrative” is about literature and translation and storytelling, it’s also about how we fabricate ourselves and the lives of those we encounter. It was a challenging read but had a few moments of magic hidden in there.

Brother by David Chariandy – “Brother explores questions of masculinity, family, race, and identity as they are played out in a Scarborough housing complex during the sweltering heat and simmering violence of the summer of 1991.” It’s well written and put me in a world so far away from my own. I have to admit I don’t think I was emotionally impacted as others who have read it.

The New Dark Age: Technology and the End of the Future by James Bridle – “As the world around us increases in technological complexity, our understanding of it diminishes. Underlying this trend is a single idea: the belief that our existence is understandable through computation, and more data is enough to help us build a better world.” Bridle unpicks that single idea well and highlights what we lose as we allow our understanding to wane, but doesn’t offer much in the way of a light to help. I guess I’ve got more reading to do before I come up with any solutions of my own.

How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy by Jenny Oddell – This account of pushing back against the attention economy was fascinating as a read it and I found myself nodding along. But it’s one I’ve really struggled to retain much of, perhaps it needs another read next year?

Stranger City by Linda Grant – Set in contemporary London, with all of its Brexit fears, this felt like a book about belonging and how hard it can be to anchor yourself in the city. As someone who’s been researching immigration appeals for the past year, the portrayal of that particular uncertainty in fictional form gave a new perspective to my day job.

Trick Mirror by Jia Tolentino – At once whip-smart and playful this collection of essays about growing up and into the internet age was worth the hype. I had this as a read by the author audiobook and I think it added so much.

The Human Planet: How We Created the Anthropocene by Mark Maslin and Simon L. Lewis – For once I agree wholeheartedly with the google description – “an engrossing exploration of the science, history and politics of the Anthropocene, one of the most important scientific ideas of our time, from two world-renowned experts”. I think it’s the interplay of those elements science, history and politics which really sets this one apart.

See What I Have Done by Sarah Schmidt – This was a novel that was all about a murder that never really talked about the murder. On the one hand, the sense of a claustrophobic family and psychological trickery at play were well done and an interesting take on a well worn genre and story. But on the other hand, it felt like it was missing something at its core.

Talking to strangers by Malcolm Gladwell – This book included some interesting research pieced together well, particularly as an audiobook, but the conclusions Gladwell jumped to never landed for me. Only the first chapter about spies really felt like it held much true value.

The Education of an Idealist by Samantha Power – I’m not quite sure how I ended up with this book on my list, if I’m honest. I wasn’t all that aware of Samantha Power before I read it. But I found her varied and adventure filled life incredibly interested, as I did how she learned to balance her own mental health while pursuing such a high pressure career. As someone who isn’t that up on American foreign policy, the first half of her book about her younger days definitely resonated with me harder.

User Friendly: How the Hidden Rules of Design are Changing the Way We Live, Work & Play by Cliff Kuang & Robert Fabricant – As someone who works (in largely digital) design the overriding concepts of user-friendliness and they ways they shape our behaviour were already familiar to me. But what I found really interesting in this one was the way the authors built up the history of how those processes came to be the foundation of contemporary design for both better and worse.

Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders – This book wasn’t quite what I expected it to be, despite going in with very few expectations. I found the cacophony of voices and quotations at once its strongest and hardest to follow feature. 

The Trans-Siberian Railway by Nina Cosford – I was so excited to kickstart this illustrated log of Nina’s journey by rail from Moscow to Beijing. It’s an absolutely gorgeous book that gives a sense of some of the biggest (and smallest) moments of her trip.

How to Draw Anything by Scriberia – I really want to get into more live sketching work, so I thought I’d read through this book by the masters. It’s pretty basic but it gave me some inspiration for my sketchnoting workshop.

An American Marriage by Tayari Jones – A harrowing and intensely intimate portrait of a newly wed couple pulled apart by a wrongful conviction. Brilliantly written and engrossing, but I have to admit I wasn’t a huge fan of the dolls.

The Order of Time by Carlo Rovelli – This one went over my head a little if I’m honest. But it opened my eyes to how little we can perceive of the world with the senses we have at our immediate disposal and the fact that now is such a limited frame of reference. 

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I’ve compiled a list of the things I’ve loved most in the year for the past 3 years (see 2018, 2017 and 2016s lists). It’s a lovely opportunity to reflect on what’s brought me joy and how I embrace what I’ve loved even more in the year to come.

 

This year’s list is a real mixed bag, including physical things, software, places and experiences. But I’ve loved every single thing on this list. It’s worth me noting, right at the start of this list because I’ve been asked before, absolutely none of this post is gifted or sponsored. I just want to talk about somethings I like so I can share the goodness and reflect back on how what I’ve enjoyed has changed year on year.

 

So, in no particular order, these are my 2019 favourites: 

Frame

I started going to classes at Frame in July on the recommendation of an old housemate, and I’ve gone solidly two or three times a week ever since, which as someone who used to avoid all exercise but particularly group activities, that’s pretty huge. Finding workout classes I can look forward to, see progress in and do with a real mix of people who are having a great time too, has changed how I feel about my body. I’m going into 2020 feeling stronger and more grounded in myself than I ever have before, and Frame has been a huge part of that.

Blundstone boots

I’ve had these dress style boots for a few years now but I’ve really found myself reaching for them more and more this year, as I have with a few other pieces that had sat at the back of my wardrobe. My decision at the start of the year not to buy any clothes has really shifted how I view what I have and it’s encouraged me to change up what I pick out every day. It’s taught me that the more I wear a piece the more I love it, nothing makes me happier than wearing something good quality that I’ve worn in so much that it’s almost a part of my body.

Woodcarving

Every year I endeavour to try my hand at a new kind of making, in the past I’ve given pottery and screen printing a go. This year I tried woodcarving a go. As someone who’s otherwise a bit of a wimp and hates a sharp blade, it felt like a weird choice. But learning how to safely use a shave horse or hold a small straight knife to turn a log into a spatula or butter knife was so satisfying and empowering. Stepping away from the screen to have a singular focus and imagine an object in 3D was so refreshing and something I want to keep doing more of.

Sigg bottle

This year, I’ve taken some baby steps towards being a little bit better hydrated. I still have a lot of work to do. My sigg bottle has been a part of that shift, mainly because it’s been hardier and way less maintenance than any other bottle I’ve had. I’m even considering taking the leap to a slightly bigger one to encourage me from partial raisin to well hydrated grape.

Procreate

Before this year, Procreate had firmly been my second class digital illustration tool. But a combination of issues with Affinity Designer that I just can’t get to the bottom of and Procreate’s addition of text and export as gif functionality, it’s now the app I reach for 95% of the time. It’s encouraged me to play around more with animation, and I can’t wait to see how far I can push my skills in 2020.

Cornwall

I made my very first trip to Carbis Bay as an excuse to clear my head back in May. I loved it so much I went back later in the year. There’s something about that bit of Cornwall, its combination of landscape, accessibility and artistic history, that makes me feel at peace. I think it’s going to be a place that I come back to time and time again. 

Rotring pencil

This is a deceptively simple little tool. My Rotring 300s have been the work horses of every session of notetaking and thumbnail sketching of this year. They’re reliable and lovely to hold, and not so nice that I’m afraid to use them. Hopefully this time next year, I will have found a coloured pen/highlighter I love that will work with them. But for now my Rotrings and I can work through any creative block just fine.

Audible

According to my stats page, I’ve listened to over 9 days worth of audio books this year. Some have been hits, some have been misses, but having a new way to consume books has pushed me out of the usual reads I would pick up. I’ve read way more non-fiction, particularly autobiographies, than I ever have before. I’ve developed an audio book taste (read by the author is always my favourite kind of narration) and developed a deeper understanding of everything from the life of Samantha Power to surveillance capitalism to rewilding.

Film camera

I’m finally on the last roll of film I bought at the start of the year. That means I’ve taken enough photos to fill well over half of the ginormous photo album I’ve been curating for the past 12 months. The combination of my cheap old film camera and subpar photography skills don’t always lead to magazine quality snaps, but I’m so happy to have pages and pages of memories I can thumb through. I love the magic of going to get my film developed and never being quite sure what I’ll get back. Pro tip: Snappy Snaps is 10X better than Kodak if you’re in London and need your own film developed!

Laptop stickers

While it feels a bit cheeky to end this list with something I’ve made, if I don’t love the things I create for myself the most what’s the point? The stickers I made earlier this year have made proud to carry my work laptop around the office. They’ve started conversations and, perhaps more importantly, they’ve restarted the urge in me to just make things for myself for fun.

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In a recent post, I wrote about taking mini-adventures on your own. The power of taking yourself on holiday and how to get started if the idea of spending a significant amount of time (in a new place) solo is a little intimidating.

But when I travel alone now, I’m not just focused on learning to be by myself I also try to make my mini-adventures time to reset and rejuvenate my creativity. So, this is just a short optional add-on to those tips to help you turn a solo-adventure for adventures sake into a solo-creative-endeavour.

 

It’s long been argued that venturing somewhere new can help change your perspectives and ignite a creative spark. Travel allows you to draw on new source material new views, new encounters, new tastes and sounds. Travel is also one of the best opportunities to get lost and if we are to believe Keats that’s an essential part of creative thinking. He said a great thinker was someone who had negative capabilities, who was “capable of being in uncertainties, Mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason.” One of the times that plays out, for me at least, is when travelling. You can literally live in a space where you are uncertain full, a place full of mystery.

 

There’s so much literature on the power of travel for inspiring creativity, that I won’t dwell further on it here. Instead, I’ll point you in the direction of a piece illustrator Jean Julien put together for the National Geographic, which I read last year and has still stayed with me – so it must be good. He “set out on a classic American road trip along California’s central coast […and] documented [his] journey by placing paper cut-outs of [himself] on location and shooting vignettes” and he uses those vignettes to explain the lessons the trip taught him.

So, instead of writing ad infinum about the virtues of travel for creativity, I want to share a couple of the ways that I try to embrace the potential travel brings, because sometimes you have to work for it a little bit.

 

Rest & be bored

A lot of the time the reason we’re not feeling creative is because we’re tired and we haven’t given ourselves time to let ideas percolate. Being on holiday is the perfect time to rest up and ruminate. Sleep in. Sit somewhere and just watch the world go by.

Get lost

There are a whole load of cheesy wall stickers that say something like ‘only when we are lost can we find ourselves’. They’re corny and I wouldn’t be caught dead with one, but they probably have some truth. If we turn back to Keats and think about “being in uncertainties, Mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason.” The best way to do that is to get lost, to wander without aim or bearings without reaching for a map for a little while. To see what we find as we walk (or cycle or paddle or whatever) and to see what finds us.

Do something different

Travel’s power to inspire creativity supposedly comes from being in an environment that jolts you out of your day to day. Being somewhere new forces you to see things with new eyes to set out of your habits and make conscious choices all the time because you’re not in the familiar. If you’re not in somewhere that feels completely different, or even if you are, try to do something a little out of the ordinary. You could try a new food or a new activity. You could mix up your ordinary routines. You could just wander and say yes to the first thing that comes along. Just try something new and see if it gives you a fresh perspective.

Make something with your hands

Whenever I go on a solo trip I like to make something. I’ve crafted rings and whittled spoons. I’ve sketched and collaged. Essentially I just like to make something outside of my usual workspace and get my hands dirty. There’s something incredibly liberating about being in a new space, with a new set of tools and just getting to play. You could even take a class. Plus taking home something you’ve made is always a brilliant souvenir.

Document it

In my mini-adventures post I wrote about the importance of documenting trips when you’re on your own because you’re not socialising stories and turning them into memories. That process of capturing what you see, hear and feel is even more important if you’re looking to use a trip as creative fodder. As much as you might set up a trip to be the perfect creative getaway, that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re going to feel creative when you’re there. If you’re anything like me, your desire to make will come and go as will your inspiration. So taking a note of things that catch your eye, ear or heart as you travel means you have those memories and beginnings of ideas ready for later when you’re in a position to use them.

 

So, that’s it. Essentially, go away, embrace the new and try to make something. Of course there are structured creative breaks you can go on, writing and painting retreats. But if you’re just looking to make the most of a trip you already have planned, I think the only real thing you need to do is be conscious of that desire and honour it while you’re away.

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The Creative Pep Talk podcast is one of my favourite design/illustration listens. I was a bit late in coming to it – despite having followed Andy J. Miller for a long while. It’s absolutely brilliant “through ridiculous analogies, personal stories and artist interviews, Andy [helps] you break free from confusion and make a plan for your creative career success!”

 

I was listening to 229 – the 6 step process to unlock powerful creative business momentum in which Andy asks and answers the big question “if it’s not about practice, passion, talent or skill, what’s the real foundation of great creative work?”

 

It was an episode that really came to me at the right moment. I’m currently in a personal place of re-evaluating and evolving what creative work it is I want to do. To use the language of the episode, I’m cleansing my palate.

 

Without giving too much away about the episode, because you really should go and listen to it, the first steps Andy suggests for unlocking what will make you great in your own right are to forget what you think you know, to identify your super sense (not what you’re good at but what you notice) and to develop a taste profile of what it is you like. For this third step, he described a task of gathering up art from 3 contemporary and 3 historical sources and drawing out what it is about them that makes your spidey senses tingle.

It sounded like a lot of fun, and like something I could really benefit from. So that’s exactly what I’ve done, or at least I’ve made my own attempt at it and I wanted to share it out in the open with you because I think it probably says more about who I want to be as a maker than anything else.

 

So here’s a collection of pieces of creative work, both timely and timeless, which really speak to me. I’ve gone beyond just illustration and I’ve delved into books and film and design because I wanted to see if I could draw out any super macro themes and because I don’t just want my creative work to be still standalone visuals.

 

I’ve made moodboards before, but I’m usually concerned with creating something with a clear focus that answers a question or creates a coherent visual output. But here I just pulled what I liked and added a few words.

 

Seeing such a range of pieces together really made me take a step back and re-evaluate what it is I love.

Here are a few of the key values I found myself being drawn to:

  • Line – I feel like it comes as no surprise that strong line work is something that I look for in a piece
  • People – in general I gravitate towards works with a human focus, or that look at a human impact. Even in images with animals, I’m looking for anthropomorphisation
  • Organic forms – there’s something that’s difficult to put my finger on but that’s definitely rooted in nature in a lot of the images I’ve been drawn to
  • Texture – pieces that come across as tactile or show their human makers in their texture
  • Light and tone – colour on its own doesn’t catch my eye, but the use of tone to create a narrative or to indicate light is something I always love.
  • Stylised realism – while the use of colour doesn’t have to be realistic, I do generally prefer works that are representative of life
  • Clear voice – strong personality and message is key in both written and visual works
  • Personal but well researched – I have a huge amount of respect for people and pieces that seem to have a wealth of emergencies at their fingertips but manage to keep their work from feeling too academic and lacking in a human focus
  • Endings – I like a clean close, which probably links into the below point about purpose. A narrative shouldn’t just fade out.
  • Cultural purpose – works that draw on the world around them and offer new insights are my favourites

 

This is just the beginning, I’m only half way through the steps Andy suggests in his podcast and I’m barely taking the first steps on my own creative journey. But now, at least, I have a compass to give me some direction for what good would look like for me.

 

If you’ve got some time and a desire to collage (or a keen pinterest trigger finger) I’d definitely recommend giving this task a try.

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I’m awful at taking photographs. Awful.

 

I’m technically not very good but I’m even worse at remembering to take out my camera and click the button or to just snap something with my phone. I’m perhaps the worst when it comes to getting any photographs of myself. Whenever I need one, I’m still digging out an accidental snap a friend took 4 years ago – I’m not sure there’s one more recent where I’m not gurning.

 

I’ve made many attempts to try to shake this weird relationship with cameras, because I’d desperately like to have more moments documented. I’d love to have images I can thumb through when nostalgia strikes, when I want inspiration or just when I want a more personal reference to draw from. I know it can be done. I’ve watched longingly as friends have completed photo or video a day challenges, infinitely impressed at their follow through.

 

I’ve tried to set myself similar challenges in order to force myself to get better. But I’ve fallen short every time.

 

I think there are two reasons, I can’t bring myself to do a daily challenge. First, I live a pretty routined life and every day challenges like taking a photo everyday can be a bit of an uncomfortable reminder of how similar the things I see every day are. Second, I’m embarrassed to take photos, particularly in public and even more so with people in. This is before we get into any of the psychology of why I’m personally so camera shy.

 

So, instead of setting myself a challenge I knew I was going to fail at again this year. I wanted to try to tackle one of those underlying reasons. Rather than trying to take on my quotidien existence all at once, I’ve been working towards getting more comfortable behind the camera.

 

At the start of this year, I bought a super cheap film camera and a load of film which I promised myself I would finish within the year. I didn’t have to use it every day but I did have to get through it.

I didn’t need to buy a camera to start taking photos, especially when the ones my phone takes without even trying are probably better quality. But it was a little bit of encouragement. It was also a challenge, something I could learn. Having a new camera to figure out made it a project about that rather than the photos. Working on film also meant I didn’t have instant feedback, I had to get to then end of the roll before I could see the pictures and I couldn’t pick them apart.

 

Plus, it didn’t hurt that my favourite photos (family and otherwise) have usually been shot on film.

 

So, I loaded up the film and headed out. I’ve tried to take my camera on walks and adventures when I know I might see something nice, or want to take a moment with me for the future. I’ve also set out on trips with the purpose of taking photos, which has led to a few adventures in itself. I finally got out to Barbican Conservatory after 3 years in London.

 

When I’ve been with other people I’ve made clear that I’m doing a project and taking photos. No one has batted an eye, they probably wouldn’t have cared either way. Doing it for the ‘gram has become pretty standard. But declaring it as a project, just like saying you have a personal policy to set a boundary, has given it the legitimacy I needed in my mind.

Most of the pictures I’ve taken have been pretty bad, but it’s been nice to be a beginner. I’ve had images to thumb through and turn into new art, just like I wanted. Sure it’s been frustrating when half a roll turns out hinkey (protip: don’t go to a Kodak express to get your film developed) but I’m trying to get comfortable with the messy bits of the process as well as just holding the camera.

 

But the images I’m not happy with have taught me how to use the camera better – be slower (probably good life advice generally) and focus on things a little further away. I’m also trying to rework them into new pieces of art, so all is not lost.

 

I’m still not comfortable taking photos of other people or being in photos, but I’m working on it.

But I wanted to share this little bit of progress to talk about tackling things in baby steps and the freedom that comes from accepting you’re probably a bit shit at something before you start.

 

Experiment and turn being bad into part of the project.