The Art of Seeing Art

Steve Parish on the art of seeing in photography
A reflection drawn from Module 3 of the Photography: A Pathway to Purpose Masterclass

“Mastering light is a skill; seeing perspective and design is vision.
Photography thrives where the two converge.” — Steve Parish

The phrase The Art of Seeing Art can sound puzzling at first. A student recently rang me and wondered if it was a tautology. That is understandable. But the phrase points to something central to photography, and to the way meaningful images begin.

It is not about photographing paintings.
It is not about art looking at art.
It is about learning to see the world artistically before the camera is raised.

Before a strong photograph is made, before aperture, shutter speed or lens choice come into play, something more important happens first. We notice. We pause. We feel. We recognise that something in the world before us carries mood, meaning, design or emotional resonance.

That first act of perception is where photography truly begins.

Seeing is not the same as looking

Most people look. Far fewer truly see.

Looking is often quick and practical. We register what is there and move on. Seeing is different. Seeing asks for attention, stillness and presence. It asks us to remain with a place or moment long enough for something deeper to reveal itself.

This matters because a camera can only respond to what the eye and heart have first recognised.

A technically competent photograph may describe a place accurately, yet still fail to carry the feeling of being there. We have all had that experience. We return home, review the images, and wonder where the wind in our hair went, or the scent of eucalyptus, the movement of birds, the warmth of light on our skin. The scene is there, but the life of the moment has somehow slipped away.

Presence is part of seeing. When we are fully present, we begin to notice more than subject matter. We notice mood, relationship, rhythm, atmosphere and emotional tone. We stop skimming over the world and begin receiving it more deeply.

That is why seeing matters so much. Photography is not only about recording appearance. It is about recognising presence.

Why seeing comes before technique

Technique matters. Camera craft matters. Composition, timing, exposure and focus all matter. But they work best when they serve something deeper.

Too often, photographers begin with the question, ‘How do I photograph this?’ before first asking, ‘Why does this moment matter?’ or, ‘What is drawing me here?’

The art of seeing art restores the natural sequence.

First, become aware.
Then notice what is drawing your attention.
Then recognise the mood, the relationships, the qualities of light, form and feeling that are present.
Only then does technique become an intelligent response.

In my teaching, this sits at a pivotal point in the photographic process. Purpose shapes the way we approach the world. Projects give that purpose direction. But seeing is the bridge between inner intent and outward expression. It is where the world begins to reveal itself in a more meaningful way.

Strong photographs do not begin with the shutter.

They begin with seeing.

What shapes the way we see

The way we see is shaped by more than eyesight.

It is shaped by presence, contemplation, feeling, experience, memory and influence. It is shaped by what we have loved, what has moved us, what we have studied, and what we have returned to over many years.

Contemplation plays an important role here. When we slow down enough to fully enter a place, creative possibilities open. Observation, reflection and imagination are not luxuries in photography. They are part of the process. They deepen not only image-making, but also interpretation and storytelling.

Light is central to the art of seeing. Not simply as something to manage technically, but as something that changes mood, presence and meaning. Season, time of day, wind, cloud, stillness, diffused light, backlight, storm light, twilight and even harsh light each reveal the world differently. To see artistically is to become sensitive to these shifts — to recognise that light is not merely illumination, but one of photography’s great emotional and expressive forces.

Influence matters too, often in quiet ways. Images, books, films, places and life experiences settle into us over time and shape what we instinctively notice. In my own life, publications like National Geographic had a profound influence on how I saw the world long before I understood photography as a craft. Those influences did not dictate style, but they expanded awareness.

Culture and history also shape perception. The way we learn to respond to simplicity, drama, space, colour, light or story is not formed in isolation. It develops over time through what we are exposed to and what we value. Yet the most meaningful art also reaches beyond culture into something shared — memory, wonder, tenderness, curiosity, connection.

Over time, a photographer’s seeing evolves. Preferences shift. Sensitivities deepen. A distinctive way of noticing the world gradually emerges.

Why this is the focus of my teaching

This is why The Art of Seeing Art holds such an important place in my teaching.

Yes, all the other parts of the broader pathway are essential. A defined creative life purpose matters. Projects matter. Camera craft matters. Interpretation matters. Sharing matters. But seeing sits near the heart of everything that follows.

Whether I am teaching in a weekend workshop or through the online Masterclass, the deeper aim is not simply to help people make technically correct photographs. It is to help them encounter the world with greater attentiveness, sensitivity and depth. It is to recognise how meaning begins. It is to understand that awareness shapes expression long before the camera is used.

In that sense, The Art of Seeing Art is not a phrase for its own sake. It is a way of naming a real and important shift in photographic practice: the movement from simply looking at the world to perceiving it artistically.

When that shift happens, photography changes.

We become less concerned with collecting images and more concerned with receiving experience. We become more patient, more thoughtful, and more responsive to what is actually present. The photograph becomes not only a record, but a response.

A final thought

So what do I mean by The Art of Seeing Art?

I mean learning to recognise the artistic possibilities already present in the world before the photograph is made.

I mean moving beyond looking into felt perception.

I mean understanding that light, atmosphere, design, timing and emotional response are not extras in photography. They are part of the ground from which meaningful images arise.

And I mean that one of the most important steps in becoming a more expressive photographer is learning to see with greater depth, awareness and presence.

That is the heart of my teaching on and offline.

Not every reward of seeing arrives slowly. Sometimes a moment appears without warning — and when it does, readiness matters. A few confident camera habits remove friction, so your attention stays free to notice design, light, and feeling as they arrive.

Noisy Pitta, Mary Cairncross Rainforest — photographed during an Art of Seeing Art weekend workshop, where we slow down long enough for moments like this to arrive.

Continue the journey

If this reflection resonates with you, you’re welcome to continue in two ways:
explore the Photography: A Pathway to Purpose Masterclass,
or join me for the Art of Seeing Art weekend workshop.

Our chosen pathway
should reflect our heart’s desire.
 – Steve Parish

When I consider a project has reached expectations, I always get an endorphin rush and a “Yes!” even if it’s a single image. The more clearly the work expresses my emotions in the moment of creation, the bigger the rush and the louder the “Yes!”. It’s the drug that keeps me going. It’s also how I KNOW that I’ve finished – it comes from the heart/gut. Most creatives would agree that the more they exercise their creativity, the better their outcomes are, especially when their processes are free from overthinking during adversity.

Above: A metaphor from nature.
The r eef heron may remain completely still for hours waiting for the tide to bring food within striking range. Then, just before striking out at its prey, the bird ever so gently rocks its body back and forth from left to right while the head remains entirely still. Then, through trial and error, the bird instinctively strikes out with alarming speed. If unsuccessful, the birds will repeat the activity until success is assured. Over, and over, and over, if necessary. After all, if it gives up, it is dead! Humans don’t die physically, but they can tell themselves they are a failure, and before long, they believe it to be true. For some, this can cause considerable anxiety.

Creative self-confidence is an essential quality that must be nurtured, especially during difficult times when it can be used as a tool to overcome obstacles. In other words, it is crucial to become your own art director, to step out with confidence and express your own truth. This is empowering and helps prevent your passion from fading by avoiding slavishly following the styles of others. Design and ideas that surround our vision are crucial in today’s online world.

For all creatives, changing direction is a natural part of the process, whether for commercial or personal reasons. Dealing with change can be daunting, particularly when it affects your financial stability. I personally experienced this in the early 2000s when I realized that my three-decade-long publishing career needed to radically change direction. I remember feeling enormous stress, but I learned to let go and trust the universe to guide my creative future. When phone photography started to impact the tourist market, our company significantly enhanced our children’s publishing offering in 2007. This change was a turning point in my creative life. I cover this topic in detail in my Masterclass and provide some tips below.

If you feel like your creative life is a failure, try looking at that feeling from a different perspective. Emotional responses are temporary and are not a permanent end to your creative journey. They are learning experiences, and all creatives face roadblocks. Don’t fight them; instead, go with the flow.

Many roadblocks can hinder your creativity, such as having no money or time, too many family commitments, fear of the online world, or feeling like there is too much competition. However, you are unique, and there is no competition if you create and present your work with sincerity from your heart. Granting yourself permission to trust your decision-making process is challenging, but it is key to moving forward. It can be even more challenging when negativity surrounds you, such as global events, lockdowns, or politics. In these situations, I find that focusing on positivity and creating an environment of joy can help overcome roadblocks. 

There’s an air of sophistication and confidence in simplicity. 
– Steve Parish

What are the rewards?

As we cultivate our creative lives, we can expect to experience a boost in self-confidence. This newfound confidence may inspire changes in other areas of our lives, and those around us may begin to notice the positive changes as well. As they start to acknowledge this “new normal,” you may find that your loved ones offer support in ways you hadn’t imagined.

I believe that finding a creative voice and expressing it directly affects our mental and physical well-being. It’s about finding a purpose and waking up every day feeling optimistic about what’s ahead. When real-life situations confront us, our creative pursuits can act as a source of strength, bringing authentic joy to our lives.

So, the next time you feel like giving up on your creative endeavors, consider it a crossroads and see your fear as a friend, not a foe. I challenge you to trust in your inner voice and invest in your creativity. I guarantee that your life will be transformed.

Above, is an example of some of the playful expressions during an early process where I was exploring options with my fine art.  Not everything we create needs to have a clear objective.  Montaged mages left to right: Uluru and bloodwood tree – Kurrajong seed pods – Whistling duck feathers.

12 CREATIVE LIFE TIPS

1. View your creative life as a collaboration between what you see and feel and your authentic inner you, your soul. It’s not a competition with others.
2. Look at your work from a distance – perhaps it is a new style of work that needs time to germinate.
3. Today, what may be thought of as failure could be later deemed a success. This has been a very common reoccurrence throughout my creative life.
4. Never discard creative ideas. They are your fuel. Keep them sacrosanct in a secret place if you feel you need to. 
5. Always choose creative council with care, especially during your journey’s early, possibly fragile stages.
6. Switch off all negative voices that do not express your inner truth. This could mean shutting off the news or avoiding people who constantly voice their own pain.
7. When you feel intimidated by a critic, embrace their comment and then quietly reflect on what they say. Who knows, they may be right!
8. Take risks. Banish overthinking from your creative processes. Learn to work instinctively in the present moment. Remember, there is no such thing as tomorrow.
9. Consider your state of mind at the wheel of your creative journey. When still and alone, or when loud music booms, whatever turns you on, work in that space.
10. When you lose what you have held precious in your life, that’s when the creative adventure can really begin. Remember, what you do is not who you are.
11. Consider driven, creative life purpose as the arch-enemy of anxiety and depression.
12. Watch out for pivotal life moments. They can come at any time, without warning. Embrace them without hesitation, as they can bring fundamental change to your life

The Lonely Sailor

About the Work

“When my mind ceases to think of outcomes,
I enter a state of play —
a special place inside where true joy resides.”

For more than five decades, Australian nature has shaped the way I see and create. Its wildlife, landscapes, textures, colours, and rhythms first formed me as a natural history photographer, and still underpin both my photographic work and my more interpretive, expressive art.

A note on process

These artworks begin with photographs I have made myself through direct engagement with the natural world.

Some remain close to the original scene. Others move further into interpretation through digital darkroom techniques, layering, montage, and at times a more painterly treatment. My principal interpretive tools are Topaz Studio 2 and Exposure Snap Art 4, supported when needed by other contemporary editing tools.

Whatever the treatment, the work remains grounded in my own photography, observation, and personal interpretation.

From observation to interpretation

Not every experience in nature is fully expressed by description alone.

Sometimes a photograph says what was there. At other times, the image asks to move further — towards atmosphere, memory, feeling, and the inner character of a place. For me, that is not a departure from reality, but another way of being true to it. The photograph above records what was seen; the interpretation below reveals how it was felt.

This work began with a wind-blown tea tree growing almost horizontally along the cliff tops at Remarkable Rocks in Flinders Chase National Park, Kangaroo Island. Its sideways journey for survival became, for me, a metaphor for life itself — our longing for certainty, our encounter with change, and the way adversity can also become a force for renewal.

As Eckhart Tolle has written, “You can lose something you have, but not something you are.”

Each bird originates from a separate photograph of a real bird in flight. The montage does not depict one literal instant; it clarifies a behavioural reality.

Storytelling with layers

Some works in this collection are built through layers and montage.

In these pieces, the aim is not to fabricate subject matter, but to bring separate real moments into a single readable visual field. This is especially useful when behaviour, movement, or interaction unfolds over time and cannot be fully expressed in a single exposure.

In works like my rainbow lorikeet montage, each bird begins as an individual photograph of a real bird in flight. Each remains separate through the process, allowing spacing, overlap, and visual balance to be adjusted without inventing anatomy or false behaviour. The image does not depict one literal instant. It aims to clarify a behavioural reality.

A personal journey

Long before I became known for photography, I was trying to draw and paint what I observed. Even then, I was not only interested in recording the world, but in responding to it.

My years in documentary and natural history photography taught me patience, accuracy, and respect for what is actually there. That foundation has never left me. Even when a finished work becomes more expressive, it still begins in attention, lived encounter, and a deep emotional connection with Australian nature.

Artful play

In 1978, I came across Desiderius Orban’s What Is Art All About? and was struck by his idea of artful play — creating without anxiety about outcome, approval, or commercial result.

That idea stayed quietly with me for many years. Then, after losing my business, home, and life’s work in the 2011 floods, play became something far deeper than a creative preference. It became a way of restoring balance. Much of the work you see here grew from that period — not from a wish to impress, but from a need to reconnect with joy, freedom, and meaning.

Why some works feel painterly

As a naturalist, I am often drawn to moments that suggest more than they describe — a gesture, a softness of light, a fleeting behaviour, or a feeling carried by colour and form.

Not every experience in nature is best expressed through strict realism. Some works ask to remain close to the scene as it was. Others ask to be interpreted more freely. That is why parts of this collection may feel painterly or more expressive. They are still rooted in the natural world, but shaped by memory, atmosphere, and response as much as by description.

Print, scale and presence

Seeing an artwork realised as a physical print remains one of the great joys of my creative life.

A print has presence in a way that a screen cannot fully convey. Scale, atmosphere, colour, and subtle detail all shift when the work takes its place on a wall and begins to live in real space. That matters to me deeply, because it is often the moment when an inner response feels complete.

A closing reflection

Both as a natural history photographer and as an interpretive artist, I have always been driven by emotional connection.

Australia’s landscapes, flora, fauna, light, and weather remain my palette. I begin by paying attention. Then I respond as honestly as I can — sometimes with restraint, sometimes more freely, but always from lived encounter.

That is the heart of this work.

A few common questions

Are these works photographs or digital art?
They begin with my own photographs and field experience in Australian nature. Some remain close to the original scene, while others move further into interpretation through digital darkroom techniques.

Do you use AI in your process?
I use contemporary digital tools selectively and purposefully, but the work begins with my own photographs and remains grounded in direct observation, authorship, and personal interpretation.

Do you use montage?
Yes, in some works I combine multiple photographs from separate real moments. I use montage to clarify behaviour, movement, rhythm, or visual relationships that unfold over time, rather than to fabricate subject matter.

Creative Life:

Six Ways To Find Inspiration

Here are six ways to inspire your creativity. Music is at the top of my list while creating, especially when post-producing on the computer; I have created many a piece to the songs of Leonard Cohen! And of course, for many of us, the natural world is our driver: the birds, the flowers, the vast outback plains, the pounding surf. All of this flows in our bloodstream, feeding us daily.

Above: This image of black-necked stork and a passing egret was made in 1977 during a six-week camp at Woolwonga Wildlife Sanctuary – now known as Kakadu NP – most of which was spent sitting in a humid, mossie-ridden bird hide. During this period, I learned the value of stillness and solitude.

1 Knowledge is creative power

Discovering and learning about the nature of your photographic subject after the event—or better still before you take the picture—will inspire creative inventiveness. Knowledge also provides you with a back story that connects your audience to both a higher level of appreciation of your work and a view into your creative soul.

2 The art of self-talk

Observe things like composition, lighting, texture, colour—all the ingredients that may inspire you creatively. Ask yourself questions, for example, would you have approached a scene differently? Learn the art of ‘self-talk’ and develop productive conversations with yourself.

3 Read visually inspiring literature

Whatever lights your fire! The wonderful thing about reading is it challenges creative imagination; the more exercise you give your imagination, the more expansive it becomes. Poetry especially can be inspired by an image or vice versa where it might inspire you to create an image.

4 Visit art galleries

Although there are great online collections, I’d encourage you to visit real-world galleries and examine the beautiful textures in the paintings. However, if you do use the internet, take care not to blindly copy the artistic styles of others as you will be robbing yourself of the joy of knowing that your creative voice is ALL yours!

5 Try creative collaboration

The worlds of film, literature, music and physical artworks of all kinds are all complimentary. If you have a creative colleague that works in another medium have a go at working together on a project.

6 Create through play

Learning to relax into a state of play, both at the point of capture and in processing on your computer is essential to help enhance your creativity and inspire your journey to new and exciting levels. The key word here is ‘play’; to truly play creatively you need to engage what I call the ‘not thinking’ process. In contrast, thinking about things like picture frames, how many ‘likes’ you may receive on Facebook, and economic outcomes can interfere with the creative process.

State of Play

As both naturalist and artist, emotional connection with nature is what drives me. Moments in time, like this spoonbill’s preening contortions, are what I strive to capture as writer and photographer. In this instance, the initial capture was driven more by the naturalist within however this creative expression is all about play. A state of play is where I reside when the ‘artist within’ takes over and this is what this montage is about. Royal Spoonbill preening. River Murray National Park, South Australia

Find your passion, unlock your creative voice, develop your art and craft and claim the joy and energy of sharing with a creative community.

Creative Life: 

Lindy Warrell’s Word Journey

My childhood taste for this beautiful land came from Mae Gibbs, who introduced me to nature in Snuggle Pot and Cuddle Pie while terrifying me with wicked banksia men — nature and culture in one delightful word package. Mary Grant Bruce’s Billabong series for pre-adolescent girls had me yearning for the outback. 

In high school, I was a member of The Bird Lover’s Guild of Australia and desperately wanted to become a botanist. However, we moved from New South Wales, where it was on the curriculum, to Victoria, where it wasn’t, so I lost that opportunity. 

My enduring love of the koala comes from the toy ‘bear’ my nana gave me when we departed Australia for Japan post-WWII, where my father refurbished and managed the Marunouchi Hotel for the British Commonwealth Occupation Forces (BCOF). I loved my koala so hard that its fur fell out. It fills me with pain now to think that precious animal could be extinct before I die

The Australian landscape now finds its way into my writing as it entered my pubescent heart when adventure-cycling with a friend. We’d get excitingly lost in dry creek beds between low round hills where we got grass seeds in our socks and rested beneath fragrant blue-green droops of eucalypt leaves, imagining what life must have been like for First Nations people. Sixty-odd years later, those grass seeds found their way into this poem.

A Writer’s Words

When I write poetry, the natural world emerges spontaneously from my repertoire of experiences, whether actual or imagined from other words or images. In a novel, nature as a setting enters in fragments through a character’s senses. How they touch, taste, hear or smell the world enhances characterisation and creates moods for a reader.

I recently gave an Author talk at the Brighton Civic Centre in SA, promoting my novel, The Publican’s Daughter. I spoke of the mulberry tree where I dreamed among its fruit and leaves of becoming a writer as a child. An Acacia cambegei, or stinking wattle as it is colloquially known, is on the book’s cover to symbolise the dark side of life in the bush in the early 1960s for women and First Nations People.

Nature can represent or evoke many things in writing. The protagonist is a city girl who wants to find a husband but falls in love with the desert only to discover that even the desert lies. As this poem suggests, nothing is straightforward when humans mess with the landscape.

In my novel in progress, High Rise Society, I borrow from Bill Neidjie’s remarkable words in Story About Feeling, edited by Keith Taylor (1989), where nature becomes a character I call Old Man Eucalypt. 

That tree e listen to you, what you!
E got no finger, e can’t speak
But that leaf e pumping his.
Way e grow in the night while you sleeping…
You dream something
That tree and grass same thing…
E grow with your body your feeling.
When you sleep, good sleep in the night, I ask you
“Good Sleep?”
“Yes”
Well tree e same way, e worked with you.
When you feeling tree e work with you tree.
You cut I’m little bit, you got water coming out.
That’s his blood, same as your blood. So e alive.

Bill Neidjie

The story is set in high-rise public housing for the elderly in Prahran, Victoria. At 60, the protagonist Ruby drives from Darwin to Melbourne to escape a violent marriage and sleeps rough in her car until she is offered a high-rise unit. The story’s setting encompasses five council parks where characters walk their dogs, trees whisper to Ruby, and old Man Eucalypt becomes her guide and mentor.

Yes, there’s a bit of magical realism in this tale, and I thank the spirit of Bill Neidjie, also known as Kakadu Man, for inspiring that. Nature enchants. It is magic.

This poem alludes to the history of the eucalypt from colonial times to now.

As an anthropologist

In my anthropological consultancy years, I was fortunate to work with First Nations people in the Northern Territory’s Top End, the far north of South Australia, Queensland, and around Broken Hill in New South Wales. I never published this work as the stories in my reports were not mine. 

However, the AIATSIS Library in Canberra added one report to its collection, Three Pointy Little Hills: The Story of Marnbi at the Pinnacles as told by the Aboriginal people of the Flinders Ranges and Far Western New South Wales (1995). I was gratified by this, knowing it meant the people whose stories I’d recorded gave their permission. Marnbi is the name of a bronzewing pigeon who travels from the Flinders Ranges in SA to Broken Hill and, as I later discovered when I worked there, Mount Isa in Queensland.

Years later, this was the context in which I wrote a bronzewing pigeon poem for The Bimblebox Art Project founded by Jill Sampson to protect a nature refuge from mining in Queensland’s Galilee Basin. The poem is not about Marnbi but speaks of the common bronzewing in natural, cultural (in the public domain) and historical terms.

Working as I did for many years with First Nations people was a privilege. And one day, not long before I retired, I received this unexpected praise from a woman Elder. And not to confuse, I am the Ol’ girl in the poem. 

Setting and Context

Last year, I contributed to Fleurieu Past & Present, an anthology of writing in Sand Writers’ and Art@Goolwa’s Speak Out series. Entitled ‘A Flicked Pebble’, my contribution represents the way my personal life — like my poems and stories as I’ve shown — is constantly, if variously, intertwined with the natural world. How could it not be? 

About four years ago, I started a webpage, www.wattletales.com.au. At first, I talked in my blog about writing, and it evolved until I was writing about writing, told through aspects of my life. In other words, I got out of my head and into my heart to write a cross between vignette and memoir as I reflected on the process of engaging with place, landscape, or cityscape. 

That led me to invite others to contribute stories about their creative journey, focusing on the relationship between life and creativity in keeping with the site’s theme, life — poetry — fiction, or life and any craft or art. As the guest posts show, the natural world creeps into many creative endeavours.

Awe of nature permeates most Australian souls. As a nation, we have a deep and abiding love of our landscape and a willingness to learn the map of First Nations’ country names from television and events. Working with First Nations people has forever inscribed in my mind how to see the landscape as a living, narrative whole, crisscrossed as it is from shore to shore by ancient stories called songlines. This, too, is my context and part of my social setting.

I write today on the land of the Kaurna people of the Adelaide plains and pay respect to their elders, past, present and emerging. 

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Excerpt from Bill Neidjie’s Story About Feeling, 1989, edited by Keith Taylor.
Poems by Lindy Warrell —
‘Summer Grasses Strathalbyn’, InDail Adelaide (online), August 15, 2018.
‘The Desert Lies’ & ‘Of Eucalypts Lost’ (forthcoming), A Curious Mix of Free Verse, Wattletales Publishing.
‘A Distinctive Aussie Morph’, Bimblebox Art Project 2016 & in ‘Ol’ Girl Can Drive’, Ginninderra Press 2018.
‘Ol’ Girl Can Drive’ in ‘Ol’ Girl Can Drive’, Ginninderra Press 2018.

Photography:

The Art of Seizing the Moment

Intuition and spontaneity should be 
objectives for all creatives.
– Steve Parish

I am often asked, ‘How many pictures did you take to get that one?’ Iconic images are rare and, in my case, are rarely the primary objective during a shoot. In most instances, they just happen and may not be recognised for their importance in a storytelling process immediately. In other cases, an image may have the power to speak in its own right from the get-go; no clarification is required. A cute koala or baby human giving eye contact with the viewer doesn’t need to be expanded on with words because an emotional response is global; we are hard-wired to respond to round faces with shiny eyes. Being a writer and photographer, and I am a bit of a control freak, I do like to control the narrative with titles and words. 

While viewer responses to these photo captures are often instinctive, others can only be expressed when the narrative is controlled with either post-production techniques, words, or both. These additional skills may have evolved from years of seeing, feeling, interpreting and expressing publicly under one’s belt. 

In equal importance, a serious visual communicator needs a steady flow of life experiences and sometimes painful investment in personal growth to enable spontaneous recognition of both the value of the content of an image. This also applies to how the work is publicly expressed, perhaps married to words, in a frame on a wall or designed onto the page of a magazine or book. It is, in my opinion, why photography is the single most popular pastime on planet earth, with the number of photos taken globally in 2020 estimated at 1.12 trillion. 

Following is an example of an image and its back story. Before you read on, re-evaluate the image of the horseman above, then read on…

IMAGE ABOVE – This is one of the most treasured images I’ve made over my five + decade career. It was taken at a fundraising horserace for the Royal Flying Doctor Service at William Creek in July 1984. this young Indigenous man from Oodnadatta, had been given a horse he’d never ridden, and he, along with a dozen other riders, lined up to the race. The racetrack had a sharp, elbow turn, but his horse decided that, no, it would go straight ahead, so he disappeared over many dunes before he finally turned his beast around. Fifteen minutes after all of the other riders had returned, in he came, exhibiting all the body language of a winner. Note that not a single face in the crowd had turned to cheer him in! This did not bother him one iota; he expressed the body language of a winner, believing in his heart that he had won! This brings to mind the adage, ‘If you think you can, you will; if you think you can’t, you won’t.’

Is a picture worth one thousand words?

In 1981, I was presented with a book contract to photograph the Great Dividing Range, from the tip of Cape York south to the Grampians in Victoria, a total of 3500 kilometres. The brief from my publisher was to ‘stop every few hundred kilometres and take a picture that spoke 1000 words’. In other words, capture an allusive, iconic picture in each locality!’ A great brief for a photographer!

When I drove into Coen, a small bush town in Cape York, I wanted to capture the profound interplay between the Cape’s Indigenous community and the white man’s cattle culture. There were few people out and about. It was a scorching day that perfectly illustrated the harshness of life there.

Beside me on the passenger seat was my trusty 600 mm lens, just waiting for that spontaneous opportunity. I hadn’t driven more than a kilometre before seeing two young boys idling on a wooden railing. One had bare feet; the other wore an oversized pair of riding boots with the letter ‘K’ carved into the leather. I found out that the ‘K’ was for Kevin, the current owner of the boots. I immediately realised I’d found my picture. Skinny black legs, riding boots, and the barbed-wire fence each juxtaposed to tell a story. At that moment, I knew it was an iconic picture that would forever represent the Cape and the historical link between these two cultures. It was 1982, and this image has remained one of a handful of what I consider iconic career captures after decades on the road.

To capture this picture, I needed to be in the moment with all senses alert and conditioned by an emotional connection to the pain carried by First Nation people across the Continent. I also needed to take spontaneous action and follow my intuition because Kevin moved his feet after a single frame, and the power of the picture was lost.

Focussing on the mechanics

The Mind’s Eye – To truly master photography, our cameras must become an extension of our imagination and ability to connect with the essence of each passing moment. Learning to act without premeditation, especially in situations where change is imminent, is a fascinating pathway to follow. Some photographers – particularly those in action sports, wildlife, street photography and especially war or conflict photography – have mastered this skill set and become famous worldwide in their specialities. And it isn’t just about action photography. Recognising the best angle of view or soft focus aperture setting behind a perching bird before you move in to make an image is also part of this process (see below). Seeing via the ‘mind’s eye’ – some call it pre-visualisation – also fits the concept of spontaneous photography. It is, without doubt, an essential element of photography.  

The Mechanics – In action photography, using a modern DSLR or mirrorless camera with automatic aperture, shutter speed, and focus capabilities makes taking advantage of a sudden or super-fast movement more accessible. In these circumstances, automatic camera capabilities are terrific, and I expand on these techniques in my blog post, ‘Bird Photography: Techniques & Tips‘.  

The manual operation has its advantages too. Slow, more considered photography enables you to manage creative variables like very selective focus – the sharpness and softness within an image, and exposure control – the lightness and darkness within an image.

Is it a Picture? – “Recognising a picture” is where your relationship with the world around you comes in. How observant are you? Do you intuitively see art and opportunity in your day-to-day life? A creative photographer continuously scans the world for colour, shade, light, and texture. Maybe the posture of a young woman engrossed in reading on busy Swanson Street, Melbourne, strikes you for a moment as you pass by. Or that very instant when a waterbird’s toes break the mirror-calm surface of a lake, creating an abstract pattern. In all cases, the practised photographer has heightened skills to help them seize the moment and consider aesthetic options: background, composition, exposure, and so on, all at once and in a fleeting moment. If this space is new to you, see it as an end goal. As your skills increase, these processes will become second nature. And when they do, wow, what a blast! You will, and I guarantee you this, start to see and feel your world and your place within it in breathtaking ways. 

Footnote: I cover this most important space in Module 3 of my Masterclass, ‘The Art of Seeing Art’, an aspect that I am most passionate about. Visit my Blog for an overview of this the most exciting aspects of the photography pathway.

‘If you strive to please everyone,
you may find no one will be pleased.
Just be sincere in finding your own style
and then celebrate it with your community.
The people that matter will soon find you.’.
 – Steve Parish

One of the most helpful ways to enhance our creative lives is through collaborations with colleagues and the wider community; this is especially the case in this age of unprecedented change.

Creative collaboration may involve you being in the driver’s seat with others sharing your vision, or it could be you being present to act as a friend or mentor, supporting others to realise their dreams. Both are powerful pathways for creative life growth. Even more pointedly, collaborations can be thrilling experiences!

As photographers, collaborating with creatives from other disciplines such as art, music, film, writers, and others may introduce you to communities that can spread the word about your work. New experiences can also challenge you to revisit your creative life pathway and broaden your horizons. 

Descendance Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Dance Theatres’ performances cover both traditional and contemporary indigenous styles. Descendance’s award-winning show has toured over forty countries worldwide while still maintaining a strong presence in Australia. Descendance has some of the world’s finest, Didgeridoo Players, Dancers, Singers, Storytellers, Choreographers, Traditional Painters, and Musicians and also provides Welcome to Country and Smoking Ceremonies. I had the pleasure of touring Brazil with these guys, and it was their energy that inspired this video. Visit their site https://www.descendance.net/ The video was developed to demonstrate collaboration between photographers and creatives from a range of expressions and is part of the Steve Parish Photography: A Pathway to Purpose 

Above: A magical collaboration: The first Australians to perform at the Museum of Indigenous People at Brazilia, Brazil. This classic image shows an encounter between Aboriginal artists from Descendance Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Dance Theatre and members of the Xingu tribe from the Amazon as part of Brasilia’s National Indigenous Day celebrations. Two different cultures, two different languages, yet a collaboration of deep love and respect united to present one of the most thrilling events you could imagine..

In my online Masterclass Photography: A Pathway to Purpose’, we discuss how free artistic expressions with others can help expose your images to brand new audiences. I have had many great collaborations with musicians, which led to ranges of CD’s being developed and combined creative skills with poets, musicians and other photographers also opened new doors. Some even evolved into exciting, fruitful business ventures.

One particular highlight was in Sau Paulo, Brazil, at the ‘Australia Now’ Festival in 2016. I had spent a month touring, giving talks, holding exhibitions and meeting some wonderful artistically expressive folk. On the launch night, I was thrilled to see a featured montage of my images used as a backdrop for a stunning performance by the Australian orchestra, ‘The Arrival’ – featured image at the top of this post.

When I look back on my personal and professional life, I can see the vital role of collaboration, especially partnerships with scientists and authors across a wide range of disciplines. There were many lessons learnt, lessons I needed to learn, some the hard way. These lessons have taught me that carefully choosing who I collaborate with is critical. This is especially true when the collaboration involves a commercial activity. Money can change everything in a relationship, so everyone needs to be on the same page right from the start. If you want to go down this path, I recommend testing the waters in your relationships for a willingness to share and a preparedness to accept new ideas. Of course, you may also have to admit that your vision might need tweaking.

Dr Les Hall, a world authority of bats, collaborated with me for three years to capture images and create a series of books on bats and this excellent guide to Australian mammals. Les is no longer with us, but his life-long dedication to creating awareness of Australia’s unique bat fauna will live in perpetuity. 

Collaboration that have been pivotal in my career

• Collaborating with scientists and naturalists
• Collaborating with complementary disciplines
• Collaborating to a business vision
• Collaboration with educators
• Collaborations with musicians
• Collaborations with illustrators
• Collaborating with charities
• Collaboration for activism
• Collaboration with other photographers

Lessons I have learned through creative collaborations.

• Be clear about your objective/s before you invest time/money. Document all agreements.
• Share with humour; don’t take yourself too seriously.
• Be honest and open and reward others with admiration.
• Be structured with discussion – a sign of professionalism.
• Research your contribution – a sign that you are serious.
• Work with respect, regardless of your role in the collaboration.
• Follow up with gratitude and maybe send a message or gift of thanks

Creative Life:

Navigating Through the Noise

‘Efforts to deepen your focus  will struggle
if you don’t simultaneously wean
your mind from a dependence on distraction.’
― Cal Newport

‌”I can’t ever find the time, so my creative life just goes around in circles, and I never feel I’m achieving anything meaningful,” ever had that thought?

If we are to live a fully engaged, creative life, pursuing the passions that give us the purpose we seek, we may need to do one of two things: choose to negotiate with our loved ones and or ‘crop out’ some of the existing time-consuming activities out of our lives.

Life is full of choices, and while ours at any given point in time might seem restricted by our current life situation, remember that we created that ‘life situation’ and can re-create it. As the Dalai Lama wrote, ‘Judge your success by what you had to give up to get it.’ While aptly put, it is more than just giving up stuff. If we’re unhappy and want to do something about it, we need to apply self-discipline and even step out of the comfort zone we have established and re-work our schedules. It may be painful at the time.

I have met many highly acclaimed and very talented creatives from many disciplines throughout my career, and all had one thing in common: they have had to build simple, uncomplicated lives, each with a primary focus on their Creative Life Purpose. As much as possible, they had removed themselves from distraction. In the work that I do, I need to be especially vigilant. My creative life purpose incorporates numerous interests. So how do I stay focused? Two words: self-discipline. In saying that, I don’t want to portray myself as a saint. I have had my fair share of failures where discipline has failed, both in my personal and business lives.

Let’s look at the everyday distractions. Socialising with people who don’t share your life values is a big time waster. It can also drain you spiritually. Luckily, that’s easy to change. If you don’t come away feeling uplifted, well, you know what to do next time! Then there’s the digital world – streaming movie channels, mobile phones, an ever-expanding internet filled to overflowing with amazing content. Then, of course, fast-growing access to free video via Youtube, not to mention social media and never-ending emails desperately trying to sell you yet another connection – where will it end? Well, not all of it needs to end. Some can benefit our creative lives as long as we manage the time. There is always a way to manage distractions. We have to start looking carefully at our everyday life schedules.

IMAGE ABOVE – At one time or another, most Australian east coast backyards are investigated for food by the delightful yet very noisy rainbow lorikeets. These birds live in an incredibly competitive environment; however, just watch them in action when in a competitive feeding situation – they know how to focus at all costs!

QUOTE ABOVE – Cal Newport is the author of ‘Deep Work – Rules for Focused Success in a Distracted World.

I recommend this TED Talk, ‘How to Eliminate Self Doubt Forever & the Power of Your Unconscious Mind ‘ with Peter Sage

Managing Time

If the content of your life is not integral
to your Creative Life Purpose
then crop it out!
– Steve Parish

If we consider all the time-absorbing elements of our lives as spokes in a wheel, we can start to appreciate better that without equal management and constant adjustment that it does not take much for our lives to go into something of a spin. Add family, relationships, the things that matter, and anxiety soon ramp up, and we all know where that can go!

The panting dog beside a spoked wheel is symbolic of our need to review our busy lives from time to time. My research confirms that time – or the perceived lack of it – is the number one challenge faced in relation to the ongoing nourishment of our creative life purpose.

Ultimately, we may find we need to delete some activities from our schedules to make room. Think of it in photographic language; you may need to do some ‘cropping’.

We all know that when we photo-compose and or crop post-capture that our images are enhanced. Yet removing/deleting – those elements that are not conducive to us living our full creative life potential remains one of the most ‘hard-to-get-around-to-doing’ life challenges. Wrong job, wrong partner, wrong place to live, wrong friends, wrong, wrong, wrong.

Finally, when we sharpen our cropping tools and take action, we soon discover that we should have acted a whole lot sooner.

Right?

Remember, our creative life purpose should not be seen as separate from our everyday life situations. Our real-life purpose can only be fulfilled when body, mind and spirit are in balance.

Images above: In-camera composition directly relates to the analysis of the story you wish to tell. In this case, the ‘tear-shaped’ feather patterns seemingly falling from the eye of this frogmouth were my story. The beak and the body shape had nothing to do with my story, so they were removed. So, next time you are confronted with making a hard decision think of feathery tears and this gorgeous frog mouth.

People with creative life goals succeed
because they know where they are going.
– Steve Parish

At 79, I can look back on a life shaped by pivotal, life-changing moments. The first — and perhaps the most significant — occurred when I was sixteen.

While spearfishing at Moana Beach, just south of Adelaide, I encountered a great white shark. It took my catch and left me with a surge of curiosity rather than fear. What was that enormous, mean-looking shark? With no fish books to consult, I took my questions to the South Australian Museum. Based on my description, the shark was quickly identified as a great white, and — noticing my enthusiasm — a generous biologist invited me to join a newly planned fish-collecting expedition along the north coast of Kangaroo Island.

On board was Igor Oak, an underwater photography pioneer. Through sheer good fortune, and his willingness to share, he handed me his camera underwater and gestured for me to make a picture. From that moment, I gave up spearing fish and began photographing them. I didn’t realise it then, but my life’s journey had quietly begun.

There have been many such pivotal moments since. They come to all of us, especially once we recognise the activities that bring us joy. At first, dreams and aspirations may seem uncertain or impractical — but they can still serve as beginnings. It took me twenty years from discovering my passion to recognising it as a viable, independent way to earn a living.

Throughout my life, I’ve learned the value of regularly reviewing progress, staying open to opportunity, and being willing to explore paths that may initially seem unlikely.

One experience stands out.

In 1975, at twenty-nine, I was preparing for a dive at Julian Rocks near Byron Bay with a friend. Unsure of my direction at the time, I mentioned this uncertainty after the dive. My friend suggested I might find work as a photographer with the Queensland National Parks & Wildlife Service, which was developing an in-house education unit. He offered to make enquiries.

The following week, he told me the Service had just begun building a new statewide education department — and they were hiring photographers. That single opportunity opened many doors. It allowed me to combine photography with marine science and to help interpret nature for the broader community. Eventually, I found myself in a tropical forest photographing the Service’s new logo — the Herbert River Ringtail Possum. Ten years later, I launched my publishing brand.

Looking back, I see how often confidence grows not from certainty, but from curiosity, openness, and the courage to follow what feels meaningful.

Do you recognise the pivotal, life-changing moments in your own life?

a vision statement as a guide for a creative life

Pivotal moments and opportunities come to all of us, yet recognising them when they arrive can be surprisingly difficult. In my Masterclass, Photography: a Pathway to Purpose, I encourage participants to develop a clear vision statement — one that acts as both a compass and a touchstone.

Looking back, many of my own pivotal opportunities would have come to fruition more easily had I been clearer, earlier, about what I valued most.

Before launching my publishing company in 1985, I wrote a simple statement:
“To inspire others to regard the natural world as essential to spiritual, mental, and physical wellbeing.”
That sentence has guided both my personal and professional life ever since. Whenever I’m faced with a decision, I return to it. It has never let me down.

The first module of my Masterclass focuses on developing what I call a creative life purpose statement. It’s not something to be written and forgotten, but a living guide — nourished daily and used, when necessary, as a kind of battering ram when obstacles arise. When a clear pathway isn’t evident, I suggest beginning with a simple inventory of values and assets. These often reveal more direction than we expect.

This approach has been warmly embraced by Masterclass members, many of whom now share their journeys within an emerging and supportive community. I also encourage participants to choose a single image as a visual anchor. Mine is a photograph of the spectacular mottlecah eucalypt flower (cover above) — a reminder of my Creative Life Purpose and of constant renewal. Each new bud reinforces the truth that everything in life is always changing.

Ten tips for recognising and seizing pivotal life moments

Recognising and acting on pivotal moments requires awareness, honesty, and a willingness to engage fully with life.

1. practise mindfulness
Stay present and attentive to your thoughts, emotions, and surroundings. Awareness sharpens perception.

2. clarify your values and goals
Knowing what truly matters makes opportunities easier to recognise.

3. stay open-minded
Pivotal moments often arrive unexpectedly. Flexibility allows them to unfold.

4. trust your intuition
Your instincts are often the first signal that something meaningful is happening.

5. embrace uncertainty
I’ve learned that when I feel too comfortable, I may be stagnating.

6. take considered risks
Growth usually requires stepping beyond familiar ground.

7. seek guidance and support
Mentors, friends, and family can offer clarity when perspective is clouded.

8. learn from setbacks
Every misstep carries information. Use it.

9. stay proactive
Curiosity and engagement invite opportunity.

10. acknowledge success
Pausing to recognise progress builds confidence and momentum.

By cultivating a clear vision and remaining attentive to life’s quiet signals, we become far better equipped to recognise — and act upon — the moments that shape a creative life.

‘If we are to create images that are windows to our soul,
from time to time, we need to remember to lay
the camera aside and invest in “soul time”.
Soul time can open pathways that enhance our sensory
and interpretive skills in unique, visual ways.’

How do you connect with the essence of something inanimate, like a landscape? Is a passion for photographing landscapes enough? In short, no. Passion for performing an activity does not necessarily mean you have expressed your inner feelings in a meaningful way. However, there are some ingredients that, when applied, can fast-track the process and bring surprise and joy to the outcome.

INTERPRETING: Knowing and Understanding

Researching a locality and then interpreting newfound knowledge is always a good starting point. For example, the creek bed above is at Simpsons Gap, a gorge in the West MacDonnell Ranges. A minimal online search reveals that this place is spiritually significant to the Arrernte people. Several Indigenous Dreaming trails and stories interconnect at this site, which is known culturally as Rungutjirpa. As we research, we subconsciously gather words with special meanings like spirit, dreaming, and trails. At the same time, we learn which animals – such as the perentie monitor, wedge-tailed eagle and wallaby – and which plants, like the river red gum, are associated with the Dreaming of this place we plan to visit. Taking this knowledge with us into the field enhances our seeing and feeling, focuses our mind’s eye, and enriches our quest to explore the essence of a place. If you’re anything like me, you will spend the night before your journey in restless anticipation.

SENSING: Seeing, Hearing, Touching, Smelling & Tasting  

Having checked sunrise times, you plan to arrive early, giving you time to consider a viewpoint and calm your state of mind. Choosing to compose from ground level, you bed down in the soft, cool sand and soon begin to see, feel, smell, and touch this special place. Zebra finches chatter in a nearby bush, and a magpie-lark’s frenetic call echoes from the waterhole ahead in the gap. It’s now a matter of minutes before the sun begins to paint the cliffs a vivid orange.

FEELING: Expressing with Emotions and Feelings

As you begin to make your images – horizontal, vertical, maybe a change from a fisheye to a narrower focal perspective – you find yourself engaging in what I call “self-talk”. You have left the past behind and have no consideration of the future, and tomorrow is simply out of mind. You are rooted in this present moment, lying in the cool sand. In this instance, you are connecting with your sense of the essence as you see and feel it. In that moment – the now – nothing else matters.

Later, each time you look at your pictures, you will be transported back in time. You will hear the magpie-lark and the zebra finches, and you will feel the cold sand and see the ancient cliffs slowly being painted with an orange glow. Through inner reflection, you will consider those generations who once occupied Rungutjirpa. If you feel you need more, and even further reward is that they can appreciate your unique connections when you share your stories with others.

And so, as you travel across Australia, carry this process of photographic interpretation with you, experiencing each encounter in your distinct way. I guarantee you that this approach will turn your trip into a life-changing experience.

The words and images in this blog are an extract from PHOTOGRAPHING AUSTRALIA: The Ultimate Travel Guide.  The 9 volume series is based on the nature connection principles expressed in this post.  Click below for more information on the series.