Chapter 9

A Summer of Pause

It’s been a while since I last shared anything here. The months slipped by quietly — slower, softer — and for the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel the pressure to create or post. I simply let things rest for a bit. Now, as the seasons begin to turn again, it feels right to look back on what those quieter months held and where I want my photography to go from here.

In my last post, I wrote:

“This photograph feels like a pause — and that’s exactly what I need right now.

This will be my last post for a while. I’m stepping away from social media — not out of frustration, but from a need to return to something slower, more intentional. The constant noise and pull of these platforms have been dulling my connection to the work itself.

I’ll be taking the rest of the summer to refocus.

To breathe.

To finally spend time with the mountain of photography books I’ve collected over the years.”

So what happened over the summer?

Well, I did a little bit of photography — but as I said then, I was taking a break from it.

Instead, I found myself back in an old rhythm: powerlifting.

After more than three years away, I returned to training with the same group of people — and a few new faces too. It felt good to be part of that again. I even competed, completing a full 16-week prep and finishing with a 50 kg personal-best total over my last competition.

But that’s not really what this post is about.

During those months, I found myself thinking about photography — where it started for me, and where it’s heading. I realised how much I’ve enjoyed stepping away from the constant push and pull of social media and the noise surrounding the “art” circles. The rise of AI has added to that noise too — so many rushing toward shortcuts, chasing attention or a quick profit. It’s not something I want to be part of.

What I’ve truly enjoyed is photographing without expectation.

No posting.

No checking the phone to see if someone “liked” an image.

Just being present — making the photograph for myself.

Now, I’m returning to the full process again — printing my work, holding it, finishing it. There’s something deeply satisfying in that tangible end point. I also want to get back into the markets, to share my prints in person rather than through a screen.

I’ve thought about making videos too — maybe some kind of vlog or behind-the-scenes series — but I know myself. I’d overthink it. For now, writing feels more natural. Even as I write this, I catch myself wanting to rush, to hit publish quickly — and that’s exactly the mindset I’m trying to move away from.

Lately, I’ve been looking back to when photography was more structured for me — when I worked in assignments. That approach gave me direction, focus, and meaning. So I’m returning to that format: creating photo essays again. It’s slower, more thoughtful, and far removed from the fast-paced cycle of single-image posts that dominate social media.

Someone once said, “I haven’t lost interest in photography — that would be like losing interest in eating.”

That line stayed with me.

Over the past few months, I’ve also discovered new voices in photography. I’ve been watching a few YouTube channels I hadn’t followed before, including Tatiana Hopper, whose deep dives into photography’s history and storytelling have been a real source of inspiration.

And so, here are the images I made over the summer — quiet reflections of that pause I needed.

Looking back, the pause was exactly what I needed — a reminder that stepping away isn’t losing touch, but finding it again in a different way. These photographs mark that time: slower moments, quieter thoughts, a return to why I began taking pictures in the first place. I don’t know exactly where this path leads next, but perhaps that’s the point — to let the story unfold slowly, image by image, moment by moment.

Chapter 8

Taking a Step Back (Again)

Lately, I’ve found myself drifting away from photography—not in a dramatic, stormy kind of way, just quietly and gradually. I haven’t picked up the camera as often. When I do, it sometimes feels more like a chore than a spark. I’ve been thinking a lot about why that is.

Maybe it’s a lack of inspiration. Maybe it’s social media—how it’s constantly nudging us to produce, to post, to stay “relevant.” Or maybe it’s just a bit of burnout. I can’t say for sure. Most likely, it’s a mix of all those things.

What I do know is that photography has never been something I want to force. I’ve never wanted to turn it into a numbers game—X posts per week, Y reels per month, always grinding out content. That’s never been the point for me. I got into photography because I loved being out in the landscape, watching the light change, waiting for something to align that felt worth capturing. Some of my favourite images came from slow mornings in the mountains or quiet evenings in the forest, where the camera almost felt secondary to the experience.

But lately, I’ve noticed myself second-guessing even the act of taking a photo—wondering, Will this do well online? Is this ‘enough’ to share? That’s not a place I want to create from. I’ve been here before, and taking a step back helped me rediscover why I do this in the first place.

So that’s what I’m doing again—taking the rest of the summer to let go of the pressure. I’ll go for walks without a camera. I’ll sit by the sea without needing to photograph it. And if inspiration comes, great. If not, that’s okay too. I’m not leaving photography. I’m just giving it—and myself—a bit of breathing room.

Thanks for reading. Even if this blog only reaches a few of you, I’m grateful for the space to share these thoughts, honestly.

Chapter 7

What Happened to My Blog?

The last time I sat down to write a blog was January and I have struggled to write anything since.

 So; Hello everyone, I hope you're doing well, and thank you for opening and reading this post. 

 This is just an informal catch-up to let you know that it's not you, it's me.

 2 months ago was when I wrote my last blog post, yeah, not great for what is supposed to be a monthly thing.The problem is quite simple, I didn't feel like I had anything of value to say and the more time that passed, the more pressure I felt to write my next thing and the feeling of "does anyone actually read this" played a big part.  

 I am far too self-critical and did not want to write a post  just for the sake of it and I certainly didn't want to try and sell something in the post after not giving anything of value to the reader.

The easiest thing was to do nothing and take a break.But then the same idea came back to me one that has been repeated over and over again on every variation of social media; "Do it for you and enjoy it, if people enjoy it also then thats just a bonus" 

 I considered using AI to generate interesting topics of discussion, but this felt borderline fraudulent. In a nutshell, I'm in limbo of confidence and nothing to say.

What has been happening since January?

 Well, my photo work has kinda slowed down but I recently I have taken on a black and white approach to my landscape work. It is a nice break from the normal “Golden Hour” photos I see on a daily basis. Also it is opening me up more to shoot during the day as it can allow itself to high contrast images.

 I have manage to do some private work for clients which is what I would love to steer into more as I get to sit down with the clients and talk through a creative process, knowing that the out-come is going to blow them away.

have taken on powerlifting again as a sport. I have to say I am enjoying the strength training and the community that is in it. It is hard training and wrecks me from time to time but it is good to have training going on the benefits will be long term also.

That’s really the most that has been happening since January. Apart from my 9-5 which is going well.

What's Next?

 Ok here me out this is what I’m thinking: 

I’d Ilike this be a place where I freely share whatever I want and whenever I want. It might be images and stories from behind the scenes, it might be personal stuff, it might be sharing the work of others that have inspired me, it might be details of projects that I am doing, basically anything that I think you might find interesting.

This blog will be far less structured, however with that breakdown of structure comes freedom and breathing space. This will allow the blog to find its purpose. I’m hoping this will release some of the pressure I put on myself and I hope this way interests you more but I want this to be a fresh start to the other chapters I have written.

Here are some of the images that I have shot this year 

Slan Seán

Chapter 6

Are Photography Workshops Worth the Money?

As a landscape photographer, I’ve often wondered if photography workshops are worth the investment. With prices ranging from €1,000 to €6,850, they’re no small commitment. Although I haven’t attended one myself, I’ve spent a lot of time weighing the potential benefits against the cost, and I want to share my honest thoughts on the value they might (or might not) bring.

What’s Included in a Photography Workshop?

When you break down what’s included in the cost of most workshops, you do get quite a bit.

Here’s a typical list of what’s provided:

• Accommodation in single rooms (for international workshops).

• Breakfast, a welcome dinner, and a goodbye dinner.

• Local transportation to shooting locations, usually in a minibus that’s perfect for photographers and their gear.

• Professional tuition, offering guidance in both fieldwork and post-processing techniques.

• Opportunities to shoot at 2-3 locations per day, including sunrise and sunset sessions when conditions allow.

• Evening image reviews and Lightroom tutorials to improve your work.

• Post-workshop feedback, where the group can share and critique images.

It’s clear workshops are designed to be immersive, taking care of all the logistics so you can focus on photography.

What Isn’t Included?

Of course, there are extra costs to consider:

• Flights to and from the workshop destination.

• Connecting transportation (if needed).

• Most lunches, dinners, and drinks.

• Travel insurance and personal expenses.

These additional expenses can add up, so even though the workshop fee includes a lot, it’s important to consider the total cost before committing.

The Potential Value of Workshops

While I’ve never attended a workshop, I can understand why they appeal to so many photographers. Here are some of the reasons why others find them valuable:

1. Learning from Experts

Workshops give you the opportunity to learn directly from seasoned professionals who can help you refine your technique. For someone looking to fast-track their learning, this can be a huge advantage.

2. Access to Unique Locations

Many workshops take participants to incredible locations, often at the perfect time of day for photography. Having someone else plan the itinerary and navigate logistics can take a lot of stress out of the process.

3. Community and Socializing

For me, the most appealing aspect of workshops is the opportunity to connect with other photographers. Spending time with like-minded people who share your passion for the craft can be inspiring. The camaraderie and shared experiences are often just as memorable as the photography itself.

Why I Haven’t Attended a Workshop

Despite the potential benefits, I haven’t felt the need to attend a workshop. Part of this is because I enjoy the challenge of figuring things out on my own. There’s something deeply satisfying about researching locations, planning trips, and experimenting with techniques at my own pace.

I also question whether the value of a workshop justifies the cost for me personally. While I appreciate the structure and guidance they offer, I feel I’ve learned a lot from free or lower-cost resources like books, videos, and trial and error in the field.

Investing in Outdoor Skills Instead

One area I’m more considering is to invest in building my outdoor skills. Learning to navigate, and explore safely has the possible to open up so many opportunities for my photography. Here’s why I find this approach so rewarding:

1. Confidence in the Outdoors

Gaining skills like navigation and route planning would give me more self-reliant and be more adventurous. I can explore remote areas at my own pace without needing someone to guide me.

2. A Deeper Connection with Nature

Spending time outdoors on my own terms has given me a better understanding of the landscapes I photograph. I can take the time to observe the light, weather, and details of a location without being tied to a group’s schedule.

3. Creative Freedom

I have full control over the itinerary. If I want to revisit a location or if I choose to spend extra time waiting for the perfect light, I can do so without worrying about anyone else’s plans.

4. Cost Efficiency

While workshops can be expensive, investing in skills like navigation and survival gear is often a one-time cost that keeps paying off over time.

Workshops vs. Independent Exploration: My Perspective

I don’t think there’s a right or wrong answer here—it really depends on what you’re looking for. If you’re someone who thrives in a structured learning environment or loves the idea of connecting with other photographers, workshops might be a great fit for you.

On the other hand, if you enjoy the freedom of discovering places on your own and prefer a more self-guided approach, investing in your outdoor skills and planning your own adventures could be more rewarding.

For me, the social aspect of workshops is the most tempting, but I still find myself leaning toward independent exploration. There’s a special kind of fulfillment that comes from charting your own path and discovering locations through your own efforts.

My Final Thoughts

At the end of the day, photography workshops are an investment—not just financially, but in your growth as a photographer. Whether they’re worth it depends on your goals and priorities.

For now,I think I will be sticking to my self-guided adventures and investing into more into investing in my outdoor skills instead, but I can see the appeal of workshops, especially for those who value learning in a community setting.

Seán

Chapter 5

The Challenge of Branding My Photography: Learning, Struggling, and Finding My Path

For a long time, “branding” was one of those buzzwords that felt distant and, honestly, a bit daunting. I knew it mattered in business and marketing, but as a photographer, my focus has always been on capturing raw emotion, moments, and beauty through my lens. Trying to squeeze all of that into a brand? It felt restrictive, like something that might water down the authenticity of my work.

But recently, I watched a YouTube video by Jonas Paurell titled “How to Brand Your Photography,” and it hit me differently. Watching Jonas talk about the importance of personal branding for photographers, I started realizing that branding isn’t about putting myself in a box; it’s about curating my story. And now, more than ever, I’m curious about where this could take me. But it’s still not an easy journey, and I wanted to share some of my struggles, the pros and cons I see, and my determination (and hesitation) to stick with it.

The Struggle with Branding: Finding Authenticity and Consistency

When I look at branding through the lens (pun intended) of photography, I realize that branding is about more than just a logo or a catchy tagline. It’s about having a consistent message, tone, and aesthetic that makes my work instantly recognizable to others. But here’s where the struggle comes in: my style has evolved over time, and I want to keep the freedom to explore new ideas and techniques without feeling locked into a specific “look.”

Watching Jonas’ video made me question if I’ve been letting my fear of commitment hold me back. He talked about how a strong brand doesn’t restrict you; it gives you a foundation from which to experiment and grow. It’s more like a framework than a fence. Hearing that gave me a fresh perspective on branding—I realized I could create a brand identity that would still allow for change, evolution, and spontaneity. But there’s a difference between understanding the value of branding and actually committing to it, and that’s where I find myself still hesitating.

Pros and Cons of Branding: Why the Pros Outweigh the Cons

As I’ve been diving deeper into the idea of branding, I’ve started to weigh the pros and cons more seriously. Let me break down some of the big ones I keep coming back to.

Pros:

• Recognition: A strong brand means that people recognize my work right away. Think of the photographers whose work we can pick out just by seeing an image—branding has played a huge role in making that possible.

• Trust and Professionalism: Consistent branding builds trust. When people see a well-defined brand, it communicates a level of professionalism and commitment that can make clients more comfortable investing in my work.

• Clear Storytelling: Branding forces me to be intentional. It helps me refine the story I want to tell with my work, which in turn gives my portfolio more impact and cohesiveness.

Cons:

• Perceived Limitations on Creativity: The biggest fear, of course, is that I’ll feel boxed in. I love experimenting with different styles, techniques, and subjects. What if a set brand identity stops me from exploring new ideas?

• Time and Effort: Building a brand isn’t easy—it takes time, dedication, and, quite frankly, patience. It’s a process of trial and error, and in the fast-paced world of photography, that can feel like a frustratingly slow journey.

Despite these cons, I’ve come to believe that the pros do outweigh the cons. When I look at the photographers who have left a lasting impression on me, it’s clear that their brands are part of what has made their work memorable. A well-defined brand won’t just make my work more recognizable—it could also give me a new sense of direction and purpose. And as I consider branding as a tool that I can use to grow, not a barrier that will keep me from evolving.

The Hardest Part: Sticking to the Path

While I’m starting to see branding in a more positive light, I’m also fully aware that it’s not going to be easy. There’s a part of me that wants to dive in headfirst, but another part that worries about staying consistent once I start. Building a brand is a long-term commitment, and it’s going to take discipline to create something that’s both authentic and consistent over time.

What I found most reassuring is that branding doesn’t have to be perfect from the start. It’s a journey of refining and defining over time, allowing the brand to adapt alongside my work. I’m trying to keep that in mind as I take these first steps, and I’m realizing that it’s okay if the path is messy or if I stumble along the way. I just need to stay on it.

Moving Forward: My Plans for Branding My Photography

So where do I go from here? After all, branding doesn’t happen overnight, and I’m still very much at the beginning of this journey. But here’s what I do know: I want to start small, taking time to reflect on what my photography stands for and who I want to reach with my work. I’ll focus on finding a consistent visual style that resonates with my audience, and I’ll work on crafting a message that feels true to me.

I’m also giving myself permission to take this one step at a time. Branding isn’t an all-or-nothing process. There will be moments of doubt and days when I might want to throw it all out and start fresh. But in the end, I believe this journey will make my photography stronger, more focused, and ultimately more impactful.

For those of you reading this firstly thank you for getting this far & for those who might also be struggling with the idea of branding your work, I hope this post shows you that you’re not alone. The journey is full of questions, challenges, and sometimes even frustrations. But from what I’m learning, it’s worth it. It’s about building something that lasts, something that people can connect to and remember.

Thank you for joining me on this journey. Here’s to figuring it all out, one step at a time.

Seán

Chapter 4

The Social Media Struggle: Navigating Life, Age, and the Pressure to Keep Up

I recently celebrated another birthday, and it feels like each passing year brings with it a new layer of reflection. It’s funny; as I get older, I find myself grappling with certain things more deeply than I did when I was younger. One of those things is social media. What was once a fun and exciting space to share ideas and connect with others has, over time, morphed into something that feels overwhelming, at times even alienating.

Unlike many people, I’ve never been one to follow trends or post constantly. Even back when Instagram was in its early days, I struggled with the pressure to churn out content just to stay relevant. Every time I tried to keep up with the fast-paced nature of it all, I felt the quality of my work suffered. Instead of capturing moments that spoke to me or producing photos I was proud of, I found myself focusing more on numbers and likes. I was chasing the algorithm, not the art, and that never sat well with me.

These days, my desire to stay away from trends has only grown stronger. My focus is on producing more meaningful and quality work, even if it doesn’t perform well in the eyes of social media metrics. But it’s not easy. I feel like I’m constantly “failing forward.” I’ll spend hours getting the perfect shot, editing it to capture the exact mood I’m going for, and then I post it… only for it to be met with silence. Meanwhile, someone else will post something trendy and get thousands of likes in a matter of minutes. It’s disheartening.

Social media has such a strong grip on our perception of value that it can feel like if you don’t have a massive following, your work doesn’t matter. I’ve seen it in the photography community too. If you’re not shooting in the hottest style or posting daily, it feels like your voice is drowned out. And I get it—social media thrives on constant content. But for someone like me, who would rather spend weeks perfecting a single image than flooding my feed with mediocrity, it’s tough. You end up questioning if anyone even notices the effort you’re putting in.

I think part of the problem is that social media has shifted how we view connection and relevance. It used to be that a beautiful photo spoke for itself. Now, if you don’t have the right hashtags, the right timing, or the right amount of followers, that same image can easily go unnoticed. The quality of the work doesn’t seem to matter as much as the quantity you produce or the attention you can grab. And that makes it hard for someone like me, who doesn’t play the numbers game, to feel seen.

On top of all this, I’ve never been great at socializing online. I’m much more comfortable having in-person conversations, where I can connect with someone face-to-face. Photography, for me, has always been a way of communicating without words—a way of telling a story or capturing a feeling that’s hard to express in text. But on social media, everything feels reduced to captions, likes, and comments. It’s all so… transactional.

I know there are plenty of photographers and content creators who thrive in that environment, who enjoy interacting with their followers online and have mastered the art of digital conversation. But that’s just never been my strong suit. I feel awkward trying to connect with people through screens. I much prefer the spontaneity and depth of real-life conversation—the kind you can’t capture in a comment section or a DM.

So, as I reflect on another birthday and what it means to be growing older in a digital age, I’m reminding myself that it’s okay to step back from the noise. It’s okay to focus on creating photos that feel true to me, even if they don’t get thousands of likes. It’s okay to prioritize quality over quantity. And it’s okay to struggle with social media, because it doesn’t define my worth, nor should it dictate how I share my work.

If I’ve learned anything this past year, it’s that the pressure to keep up with social media is real, but it doesn’t have to consume me. I may never have the kind of following that garners instant attention, but that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to create, to capture moments that matter, and to stay true to my vision as a photographer. And for now, that’s more than enough.

Chapter 3

The Timeless Value of Prints in a Digital Age

So I was looking through one of the photo books I own and came across this quote that got me thinking.

"Why print this picture... The reason is that words are never enough." - Life Magazine

In an era where social media dominates our daily lives, creativity has found a new and expansive canvas. Platforms like Instagram, Pinterest, and TikTok have transformed the way we share and consume art. They've democratized creativity, allowing anyone with a smartphone to capture moments, craft stories, and even monetize their artistic endeavors. It's a revolution that has made art accessible to millions, but it has also led to an unintended consequence: the devaluation of printed art.

When I think about the power of a printed photograph or artwork, I’m reminded of that evocative quote from Life Magazine. There’s an inherent depth and emotional resonance in prints that words alone can't capture. A printed photograph hanging on the wall is a tangible piece of the artist’s vision, something you can touch, feel, and experience in a way that a digital image on a screen simply can't replicate.

Social media, for all its wonders, has subtly shifted our perception of art. The fleeting nature of posts, the endless scroll, and the constant barrage of new content have made art seem transient and disposable. We've grown accustomed to consuming images in rapid succession, often without taking the time to truly appreciate them. This shift has, in some ways, diminished the perceived value of owning a piece of art in its physical form.

Yet, there's something irreplaceable about a print. When you buy a print, you're not just purchasing an image; you're investing in a piece of history, a fragment of the artist’s soul, and a story frozen in time. Prints have a permanence and presence that digital images lack. They don’t get lost in the cloud or buried in an endless feed. Instead, they occupy space in our homes and our hearts, serving as daily reminders of beauty, creativity, and the human experience.

Owning a print is a statement. It’s a declaration that you value art not just for its aesthetic appeal but for its ability to evoke emotions, tell stories, and enrich your life. Prints invite us to slow down, to appreciate the nuances of light, shadow, and composition in a way that a quick double-tap on a screen never will.

Moreover, buying prints supports artists in a more meaningful way. It’s a direct acknowledgment of their craft and effort, a tangible way to show that their work matters. In a world where digital likes and shares can be bought and manipulated, purchasing a print is a genuine act of support. It says, "I believe in your talent, and I want a piece of it to be part of my world."

As much as I love the convenience and connectivity that social media provides, I also cherish the moments when I can step away from the screen and immerse myself in the physicality of art. There’s a certain magic in holding a beautifully printed photograph, feeling its weight, and admiring the fine details that get lost in digital translation.

So, next time you find yourself scrolling through a sea of images, take a moment to consider the value of prints. Think about the joy of owning a piece of art that you can see and touch every day. Remember that while words and pixels can capture a moment, they can never fully replace the profound impact of a well-crafted print. Investing in prints is investing in a timeless form of art that will continue to inspire and move us long after the latest social media trend has faded away.

Chapter 2

Summer's Invitation to Macro Photography

 In this chapter I go over:

• Vibrant Life in Abundance

• The Magic of Natural Light

• A New Perspective on Familiar Surroundings

• Patience and Precision

• Technical Growth and Experimentation

As the warmth of summer unfolds, the world not only basks in the golden sunlight but also reveals the minute marvels often overlooked. For photographers, particularly those accustomed to capturing the grandeur of landscapes, summer presents a unique opportunity to shift focus from the vast to the very small. Macro photography, for me becomes especially rewarding during this season. Here's why summer is the perfect time to explore the intricate beauty of macro photography.

Summer teems with life. Flowers are in full bloom, insects buzz with activity, and dewdrops glisten on blades of grass. Each of these subjects is a universe unto itself when viewed close up . The season's long days provide ample light, allowing photographers to delve into the world of macro without the heavy reliance on artificial lighting.

The golden hours of early mornings and late afternoons in summer cast a soft, diffused light that is ideal for macro photography. This natural lighting accentuates the delicate textures and subtle colors of small subjects, creating images with depth and emotion that are difficult to achieve under the harsh midday sun or with flash.

Summer encourages us to spend more time outdoors, and in doing so, we become familiar with our natural surroundings. Macro photography offers a fresh perspective on these everyday scenes. A simple backyard garden can transform into a jungle of unexplored shapes and patterns, providing an endless canvas for creativity.

Macro photography requires patience and precision, qualities that are nurtured by the relaxed pace of summer days. It's a meditative process, where one learns to slow down and observe the environment with intention. The calmness of the season allows photographers to patiently wait for the perfect moment when a subject reveals its hidden beauty.

The challenge of capturing sharp, well-composed images of tiny subjects can significantly enhance a photographer's technical skills. Summer's abundant subjects offer countless opportunities to experiment with different techniques, such as focus stacking, fostering growth and confidence in one's photographic abilities.

So pretty much what I’m trying to say is, summer is not just a time for grand adventures; it's also a season for appreciating the smaller wonders that surround us. By exploring macro photography, landscape photographers can break free from their usual routines and discover a world of intricate beauty that lies just beyond the naked eye. So, grab your camera, step outside, and let the tiny spectacles of summer inspire your next photographic journey.

Wild Garlic

This was shot on my FujiFilm X-T5 with my 16-80mm at f13

Anyway I’d like to recommend another song which is a melodious ode that captures the essence of wanderlust and the poignant beauty of fleeting moments. It’s like a gentle breeze on a golden afternoon, carrying with it the whispers of past adventures and the promise of new beginnings.

Stu Larsen - San Francisco

Chapter 1

So I’ve been trying to develop a style.

It has been actually quite difficult. With so many styles out there and so many talented photographers/artists it proven quite difficult.

I do enjoy the whole film aesthetic but I dunno if that is just a phase. I kinda hope it’s not. I enjoy the softness in the look. Embracing the film look is like rediscovering the soul of photography. It's about the thrill of capturing moments in their purest form, with the grain and grit of film (this part I am working on) adding a layer of raw, authentic beauty to every image. Film challenges the digital perfection we're used to, bringing a touch of nostalgia and a timeless quality that digital just can't match. It's a move towards creating pictures that feel real, that have a story to tell, and that stand out in their imperfect perfection¹.

Along side trying out a new style of imagery I am also going to try this blog. As I am not a big person for video, although I do admire people who can video themselves and then edit it. I struggle with listening to my own voice back in a recording 😅.

I would like to publish images here 1st then social media.

Here are some images I shot on Slieve Foye the past weekend.

Wild Horses

Wild Horses-B&W

Rain Cloud

For Sale

Anyway I’d like to recommend a song which I find has such a relaxing mood especially for the song lyric in it. It’s a song that captures the bittersweet end of a love story, It’s like watching the last embers of a fire, knowing it’s about to go out, but still feeling its warmth.

John Mayer - Slow Dancing in a Burning Room