Tackling creative block
As photographers, we often get caught up in the pursuit of that perfect shot, constantly pushing ourselves to create something new, impactful, and visually stunning. But what happens when inspiration just doesn’t come and the ideas feel forced? Creative block is real, and it is so discouraging.
But it's not a dead end; it's an opportunity to reset.
Having just overcome a period of a creative block myself, here are a few tips.
1. Change your perspective and shoot something completely out of your comfort zone. For me, that's people.
2. Reconnecting with personal projects. Perhaps even revisiting those old projects you never got around to finishing and experimenting with something new.
3. Get inspired by other art forms. Who doesn't love to wander around a gallery or museum to get back into a creative flow? I always leave excited to create something new.
4. Collaborate with others. Reaching out to other creatives - art directors, stylist or other photographers - and work on something different. New perspectives can bring new energy. I know I have a few people on speed dial.
5. Embrace the Block. Sometimes, I just need to pause and reflect, recharge, do something for myself.
Creative block isn’t a sign of failure; it’s a natural part of the artistic journey. The key is to keep moving, even if the steps are small. The light will find you again.
When an artist has no boundaries
Shooting editorials is where an artist’s creativity truly comes alive. It’s the space where imagination isn’t confined by commercial expectations, where there’s room to experiment, to take risks, and to explore visual storytelling in its purest form. Unlike commercial work - where the brand’s vision sets the tone and defines the framework - editorials open the door to possibility.
Don’t get me wrong, I love a good boundary; structure can be a beautiful thing. But there’s something undeniably special about being alone in the studio, music turned up loud, lost in the process of making. It’s in that freedom, of trial and error, of testing and tweaking, that real magic happens. You learn, you refine, you surprise yourself. That’s the energy I chase.
Here’s one of those moments: my final shoot of 2024, a fragrance editorial for JFK Magazine.
The very first image
I took a trip home to surprise my dad for his 70th birthday.
While I was there, I went through my old box of stuff. Everyone still has one of those at their folks house, right? A time capsule of my teenage years, filled with bits and pieces of who I was. Mine is packed with photos, sheet music from my high school band days - concert band, jazz band, pit band (yes, I was a band geek) - along with small trinkets tied to key memories.
But what stood out the most? Piles of negatives, darkroom prints, and test strips from when I first fell in love with photography.
Among them, I found the very first photo I ever took. Back in grade 9, my dad gave me my first SLR camera. Instead of pointing it at the dog, a tree, or a person, I grabbed my brother’s toys - a GI Joe and a car - set them up on the driveway, and took my shot. Without even realizing it, I had chosen still life.
At the time, I didn’t think much of that first photo - just a kid experimenting with a camera. But now, standing where I am in my career, I see it differently. That moment was more than just a first image; it was an instinct, a pull toward the kind of photography I was meant to do. Even before I understood lighting, composition, or the artistry of making objects come alive, something in me already knew.
Photography has taken me in many directions over the years, but still life has always felt like home. And in some ways, it’s what I’ve been chasing since that first photo in my parents' driveway.
Funny how life has a way of circling back to where we started.
