As landscape photographers, we’re often out chasing bolder scenes and ideal conditions. We travel to new areas and hike to remote locations.
Yet when that pursuit becomes a treadmill – one where our inner critic silences our inner artist – that ‘better’ photo is always out of reach. The drive forward can blind us to progress we’ve made and numb us to the moments that mattered.
Granted, striving for greatness is a noble ideal. Setting goals (and committing to them) is a valid and vital dimension of a meaningful life. But so too is gratitude for what we have and how far we’ve already grown.
How would your past self see your images today?
Let’s start with a short story.
By the early 2010s, Matthew McConaughey was tired of being typecast in rom-coms and action flicks. So he stepped away from Hollywood, rejected lucrative offers and sought to apply himself to deeper drama roles. In 2014, he won the Oscar for best actor.
In his acceptance speech, he shared the three things he needs each day: Something to look up to. Something to look forward to. And someone to chase.
Here’s how he framed that last one:
When I was 15 years old, I had a very important person in my life come to me and say: Who's your hero? I said: It's me in 10 years.
Ten years later, that same person comes to me and goes: So, are you a hero? And I was like: Not even close! No, no, no. My hero's me at 35.
So you see every day, every week, every month and every year of my life, my hero's always 10 years away.
I'm never gonna be my hero. I'm not gonna attain that. I know I'm not. And that's just fine with me, because that keeps me with somebody to keep on chasing.
A powerful growth mindset indeed. But one that can be debilitating if it’s not alloyed with a dose of reflection on how far we’ve come from a decade ago.
In 2015, I started to pursue landscape photography more seriously and created this site and portfolio of work. Since then, I’ve written well over a hundred articles and shared many more images.
So I wanted to look over some of my early images and share them with you. Here’s a gallery of my images from 2015 to 2016:
October 2015: Stanwell Tops, NSW
February 2016: Bombo Quarry, NSW
January 2016: Katoomba, NSW
March 2016: Hopetoun Falls, VIC
They’re not great. The colours are too saturated. The compositions are too cliché. But in them, I can also see the ideas and skills that evolved to shape the more considered images I take today.
With that in mind, I encourage you to revisit your early days in photography. But crucially: Put your inner critic on hold while you do so.
You may want to wince and recoil at some of the decisions you made back then. (I know I do.)
So be kind to yourself as you consider a more generous perspective: How would you from ten years ago see your images today?
Making photos, making memories
I’ve travelled far and wide with my camera at my side. And as this article took form, I came to appreciate how my photos became my informal memory book, documenting my life and experiences along the way.
The act of journaling in a diary about my days has never clicked with me.
My memory, I’ve found, is deeply visual. So when I flick through my past images, I’m transported back to the time I took them. It’s like delving through a slideshow that then branches and cascades into more connected memories, faces and feelings.
For me, and perhaps you too, landscape photography sits at the intersection between solo creative expression and shared experiences with loved ones. And from that liminal space between our interior and exterior worlds, certain standout images emerge imbued with meaning far beyond the frame.
Here are a few highlights from the past decade and the memories they hold.
July 2016: Uluru, NT. Dad and I sure love our roadtrips. And this adventure to the Red Centre was something special. On our final morning, I treated him to a scenic dawn flight over this anciant land.
Oct 2017: Lake Wanaka, NZ. I was eager to photograph this iconic tree at sunrise. And so too was my grandma. But we were staying far away in Dunedin. So together, we woke well before dawn and drove through the early hours to share this glorious view.
Feb 2019: Jamberoo, NSW. A simple composition. But a frame that reminds of the rolling hills and farmland around where I grew up on the NSW South Coast.
March 2020: The Grampians, VIC. As the world was about to turn upside down, I made a trip out to The Grampians to chase these post-storm clouds on sunset. It was the last wild sunset I’d see for some time.
On returning to locations and remastering images
As you go through your back catalogue, you might unearth frames you had overlooked or forgotten about. Or, like me, unbalanced frames that you rushed to publish online in a flurry of overconfidence.
You might be inspired to explore areas again or watch the weather forecast to return under different light conditions. The distance of time might spark new compositions to consider or techniques to try.
Or perhaps your initial edit was too heavy-handed. Musicians often remaster old tracks. So why not do the same for your favourite frames?
In fact, that’s what led to this article.
I was looking over a Tasmanian forest scene from four years ago. The composition was strong. The lighting was soft. The frame was sharp and well-exposed.
Yet in my haste to get the image out, my edit was too harsh. The colours were off and the forest lost its lushness. The contrast was patchy with strange highlights. And the main trunks blended into the chaos of the bush in the background.
So I went back to my RAW files to edit the image again. This time, more slowly and with more sober eyes.
I found the remastering process almost meditative. I referred to my initial edit to see what worked well and what needed a more considered approach. I could soften the background and dial back the contrast to help the foreground trunks stand strong in the frame.
So delve into your archive to revisit old photos and look for lost gems you could polish and publish with fresh eyes.
And as you wander back, take two moments for yourself. One to reflect on how much you’ve grown since then – and one to look forward to the future version of you that you’re going to chase.