Small Steps.

Zeno said, “Well-being is realised in small steps, but it’s no small thing.”

That idea has been sitting with me a lot lately.

It feels especially true when it comes to creative work. Photography, making images, learning how to see. None of it happens all at once. It’s rarely dramatic. Most of the time it’s subtle, almost invisible while it’s happening.

Small steps.

Taking a photograph. Looking at it later and realising what worked, what didn’t. Trying again the next day. Seeing something slightly differently. Understanding a little more about light, or composition, or simply about patience.

Each time we make images we’re learning something, even if we don’t realise it at the time.

Those small steps start to accumulate.

Not quickly. Not loudly. But steadily.

Lately that’s been my practice. Just turning up and doing the work. Making photographs, reflecting on them, then going out again and making more. Trying to move forward a little each time, even if the progress is almost too small to notice.

Another thing I’ve been trying to let go of is comparison.

It’s easy now, maybe easier than ever, to look sideways. To see what everyone else is doing, what they’re making, how quickly they seem to be progressing. That kind of thinking can quietly steal the joy from the process.

So I’ve been reminding myself of something simple:

It’s none of my business what others think of me.

There’s a lot of freedom in that idea.

It creates space. Space to experiment. Space to get things wrong. Space to make photographs that don’t work, without feeling like every image needs to prove something.

Mistakes become part of the process rather than something to avoid.

And the more I do this, the more I realise that progression doesn’t really come quickly. But that’s not a bad thing. In fact, there’s something quite satisfying about it.

The enjoyment is in the learning itself.

Not the finish line.

Not the idea of finally “arriving” somewhere creatively.

Just the process.

Walking with the camera. Noticing things. Trying to translate what you see into an image. Sometimes succeeding, sometimes not. Then going out again the next day and trying once more.

And the truth is, I’m not sure there even is an end point.

I don’t really want there to be.

Because if there was, the journey would eventually stop. There would be nothing left to explore, nothing left to understand differently.

Instead there’s always something more.

A different way of seeing.
A new approach.
A small improvement you didn’t expect.

That’s the real reward.

Just continuing along the path. Slowly improving. Learning as you go.

Small steps.

But, as Zeno reminds us, no small thing.

As ever, thank you for taking time to read my thoughts on my photographic practise. You can find out more about my work @ www.mattoliverphotography.com