“The Journey of a Lifetime: How Persistence Shaped My Photography Career”.

Pink. Paris. Midnight traffic and a limousine humming through the city.
On the way to her album launch, she leaned back, smiled, and raised a rock salute as the lights streaked past the windows. I had photographed her once before in London, but this moment felt different. Unplanned. Human. Brief. The kind of photograph that only exists if you stay alert long enough for life to offer it.

American Signer/Songwriter Pink photographed in Paris, France.

After more than four decades as a professional photographer, I have learned that talent opens doors, but persistence is what keeps them from closing. That truth applies whether you work with a camera, a pen, or your hands. I stayed when it would have been easier to leave. During lean years, when money was tight and certainty even tighter, I carried on, not through blind optimism, but through conviction. Persistence sharpens perspective. It teaches you the real cost of success, and why it matters.

Photography was never going to make me rich. But it has given me a living, a life, and a passport to the world. Nearly sixty countries later, I know I have seen things I would never have encountered otherwise. Conflict zones. Celebration. Grief. Quiet courage. Extraordinary people living ordinary lives. And still, when I considered stepping away for something calmer, something safer, I realised there was nowhere else I wanted to stand.

H.e.Ross -Sailor & Author Photographed as part of Black Suffolk.

In Woodbridge, Suffolk, I photographed sailor H.e. Ross aboard his houseboat. His portrait became part of a twenty-image narrative exploring Black lives in a predominantly white rural county in East England. Ipswich Museum later acquired it for its permanent collection. That moment mattered, not for validation, but for permanence. Stories deserve to last.

Some images stay with you because of where they were taken. Others because of when.
In Mississippi, days after Hurricane Katrina, I photographed a resident of Klin standing guard outside his damaged home. Looting had followed the floodwaters. Fear lingered in the heat. The camera did not fix anything, but it bore witness. Sometimes, that is enough.

Hurricane Katrina: A resident of Klin Mississippi, keeping guard over his home.

Persistence does not erase financial pressure, but it does create opportunity. Over the years, it has brought commissions, recognition, and occasional rewards. Last year, a substantial body of my environmental portraiture was purchased by my local museum for a major community project and added to their archive. Quiet victories count.

In Juba, South Sudan, men stood for hours in temperatures exceeding one hundred degrees to mark Liberation Day. A new nation was being born. Sweat, dust, hope, exhaustion. History is unfolding slowly and all at once. A week later, I received a call from the museum’s head curator. They wanted to mount an exhibition at Christchurch Mansion, spanning four decades of my work. The only condition was that Constable’s paintings had to remain in place at the back of the exhibition. That seemed fair.

Liberation day in South Sudan, the world youngest country.

Another long-term project focused on people living with albinism. Over three years, I photographed lives often misunderstood or overlooked. One image, of fourteen-year-old Victoria shielding her eyes from the midday sun, became part of a five-page feature in The Sunday Times Magazine. When time is adequately invested, stories deepen.

Living with Albinism - Victoria and friends, South East London

Living with addiction - Gordon Moody Charity

This retrospective, covering more than thirty-five years of work, is a privilege. To have my adopted hometown recognise and celebrate my photography in this way is no small thing. The museum has gone further still, engaging schools, colleges, and universities through workshops and talks. That matters to me. Photography should circulate, not sit still.

My beginnings were grounded in press photography and photojournalism. I started as a black-and-white printer, progressed to junior photographer, then became a staff photographer working near Fleet Street, close to Britain’s national newspapers. Throughout the 1980s, I worked as a newspaper photographer before securing a full-time position at the Daily Mirror. My work caught the attention of the editor at the time, Piers Morgan. Deadlines taught discipline. Pressure taught clarity.

Some stories leave a mark.

Recently, I worked with a gambling addiction charity, creating visual narratives with former clients. One image shows Matt in his bedroom, a suicide note to his daughter visible behind him. Gambling had nearly taken everything. Therapy and support saved his life. He is still in recovery. Photography can be uncomfortable. It should be.

At the Daily Mirror, I covered royalty, politics, entertainment, and global sporting events, alongside major international conflicts. But it was my work with NGOs that reshaped my approach. It taught me to listen more carefully, to photograph with responsibility, and to understand how images can speak when words fail.

There were lighter moments too.
In London, I photographed Michael Jackson during a Harrods-organised shoot. Before the camera came out, we shared a pot of tea and a conversation. No spectacle. Just two people talking. Over time, experiences like that shifted my work towards culture, community, and connection.

My exhibition ran for ten months, with further images drawn from my archive and a new commission awarded as part of the programme. The work continues.

In Geneva, I photographed Pelé while he was being measured for a new football boot. Marketing teams hovered, conversations flowed, and history stood casually in front of me. It remains one of my favourite portraits. Greatness, unguarded.

And in the Mississippi Delta, I photographed Clarence in his battered Cadillac, a car he had found abandoned and brought back to life. He used it as an unofficial taxi in one of America’s poorest regions. I travelled through six states documenting life below the poverty line. These are the stories that stay with you.

Persistence does not guarantee success, but it invites it. Hold your vision. Work honestly. Stay longer than doubt expects you to. The harder you commit to what matters, the more luck seems to notice.

I would love you to come and see the work in person. Some journeys are best shared.

If you get a moment, please check out my article here

Frames Photo Magazine for April 2023