I thought I had to create alone
Thoughts on solitude, connection, and the quiet joy of sharing your passion.
Street photography, for me, has always been a solitary activity. I've had people (friends, family members) join me on walks while I was taking pictures, but I never really had a photographer buddy to share the experience with, to plan an outing together, to bounce ideas off of, to grow with.
It’s very different from fashion photography. In fashion, collaboration is essential. To truly succeed, you need a good team, wardrobe stylists, makeup artists, lighting assistants, editors. Every person contributes something vital to the final image. It’s a team game, and when the chemistry is right, the energy is magnetic. The results speak for themselves.
But street photography?
Street is introspective. Meditative.
I usually pop on my headphones and just walk. Sometimes I have a destination in mind, or a theme I want to follow, but most of the time I let the city guide me. Scenes reveal themselves. I don’t chase moments, they come to me, like a mermaid’s call (thankfully without the deadly ending of the legends).
Looking back, the only community I ever truly felt part of was the one around anime and manga. I was active, engaged, and surrounded by people who got it.
But in the photography world?
I often felt like an outsider. I loved what I was doing, but I didn’t feel like I belonged. And that made the journey lonelier than I ever admitted.
Still, something’s changed recently.
I’ve started to crave something more, a community. I long for new people, new perspectives, fresh minds to share this passion with. And this realisation surprised me. I tend to be a bit introverted, and I’ve always struggled to approach others with thoughts like, “Your work is amazing” or “Hey, you seem cool, want to hang out?”
The fear of being ghosted or coming across as naive used to hold me back.
But lately, I've found myself opening up. I'm expressing support. I'm cheering for strangers, loudly, proudly. I’ve realised that many photographers I admire, even those I only know through Instagram or Substack, are feeling the same things I do: uncertainty about AI in photography, fears of irrelevance, a desire to stay connected to the human side of image-making. Reading a comment that echoed my own inner thoughts made me feel unexpectedly seen.
Recently, I had the honour of being interviewed by Justin for his new (and incredible)
. He was looking for photographers to talk to, and I decided to give it a shot. We ended up having a truly lovely conversation. The idea that someone outside of my usual circle wanted to hear from me, a total stranger, blew my mind. We spoke about photography from different perspectives, exploring it as a visual language for feeling, memory, and storytelling.That experience reminded me of something I tend to forget: even though photography often feels like a solitary pursuit, it doesn’t have to be a lonely one.
Lately, sharing more of myself, here on Substack, on social media, in podcasts, has become a way to carve out my own little space in this creative world. I’ve noticed more and more people writing about community, vulnerability, and connection. Maybe it’s the theme of the month. Or maybe we’re all just feeling the same thing: the quiet ache of wanting to be understood, to be part of something, to not create in a vacuum.
And the beautiful thing about photography is that it is a language. One that can travel far beyond our borders. One that starts conversations, connects strangers, and pushes us to grow.
This shift didn’t happen all at once. But when I look back, I realise that my project Long Live the Kings was the beginning. It was the first time I reached out to strangers, drag kings, queer performers, artists I deeply admired, and invited them to be part of something bigger. What started as a photography project became a deeply emotional experience, a safe space to celebrate identity, creativity, and connection. Those moments reminded me that photography can do more than document, it can empower, uplift, and unite.
That project lit a spark in me.
Now, I’m dreaming up something new: queer-friendly photowalks. A space where we can create together, support each other, and simply exist, cameras in hand, curiosity in our eyes. I want to build a safe space where queer people and allies can explore their creativity, learn, grow, and feel seen.
So if you're reading this and feeling the same way, craving community, wanting to share your passion, unsure of how to start, I get it. Truly. And I hope you find the courage to reach out, say hi, or tell someone their work moved you. Because those small acts of connection can lead to something surprisingly big.
The world feels a little less heavy when we walk it side by side.
Okay first off, so happy you’re on Justin’s podcast! I completely agree, there’s this overwhelming urge to connect more where I hadn’t done that before as well. Substack has been a total game changer for me in that area. It’s also prompted me to reach out to fellow local photographers more as well, regardless of the outcome.
Second, I gotta know what anime and manga you were or are still into?
Lastly, I love that you found and have a project that means so much to and has prompted you to create safe spaces and events for the queer community. I’m very familiar with the drag community, I work with the RuPaul and WOW team on the RuPaul mobile games but I’m not as familiar with the drag king community so I will definitely check out your project! Is it on your website?
It was an honor having you on the show! I really love your work and you're so incredibly fun and talented! I think we all crave a little bit of connection and kinship, which is exactly what I'm trying to do with the podcast so this made me so happy to see!