Over the years, I’ve learned a lot through photography—some lessons have been invaluable, others I kind of wish I could forget. I’ve always been a bit of a perfectionist, obsessed with tiny details, and honestly… it’s not always helped me.

Lens sharpness: Let’s be real—lens sharpness barely matters for most photography. There’s even a formula showing how little detail the human eye can actually resolve. You could print a billboard where each pixel is an inch wide, and no one would notice. Only photographers care about sharpness. If someone not in the field comments on it, chances are the photo’s missing something more important—like story.

The funny thing is, chasing perfect lenses has kind of sucked the soul out of photography. They’ve become these clinical tools—like scalpels. Precise, yes. But lifeless. Personally, I’ll take a lens with character over one that can slice atoms any day. (And hint: I’ve got a new purchase coming that dives deep into that idea.)

The rules: You know that phrase, “learn the rules so you can break them”? Yeah, I think it’s rubbish. Rules are great if you want neat, predictable photos—but they’re also incredibly restrictive. I used to straighten every horizon, compose every image perfectly, and avoid trying new things because “the rules” said not to. Sure, they made things look polished, but they also made everything safe. And honestly? Safe is boring.I’d rather trust my gut and shoot what feels right. So, yeah… the rules can get f**ked.

Lighting: Lighting is where I get messy—in the best way. I experiment constantly, and sometimes I absolutely overthink it. But that chaos? It keeps things interesting. That said, I probably could’ve saved myself a ton of time if I’d just mastered one reliable setup first. So if you’re new, start simple. Learn your gear, nail one lighting setup, then build from there. The deep end looks fun… but you can drown in it fast.

YouTube advice: YouTube taught me almost everything I know. But let’s be honest—big creators are making money off views and sponsorships, so “educational” content often doubles as marketing. Gear reviews perform well, and guess what? That means you’ll buy gear. I’ve fallen down that rabbit hole more than once.
My suggestion? Find one or two creators whose style actually aligns with yours and stick with them. Don’t hop between fifty different channels. Gear’s great, but it’s maybe 10% of the game. A light is a light, a camera’s a camera. It’s what you do with them that matters.

Social media: Ah, Instagram. It feels productive, right? You post your best shots, get those likes, and feel that little dopamine hit. But for the most part, it’s a huge energy drain. Maybe not a complete waste of time, but it should definitely be lower on the priority list.
If all you want is the ego boost, go for it! But honestly, most people don’t care. The best thing you can post is behind the scenes—show yourself working. That’s what gets people interested. It also makes you look busy, which tells others you’re in demand. And weirdly enough… people want the busy people. If someone hasn’t worked in ages, it kind of signals the opposite, right?

Niching down: Having a niche is great for direction, but it can easily box you in. I like to think my niche is “experimental portraits.” It’s broad enough to let me play with lighting, editing, and style while still feeling cohesive. I occasionally shoot live bands or even the odd wedding, but if it doesn’t fit my aesthetic, I usually don’t post it.
Still, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t shoot other things. If something inspires you—shoot it. Just keep it separate from your main body of work. For example, I love shooting road signs and trees. But you won’t catch those on this website anytime soon. Don’t let the idea of a niche trap you. Creativity thrives when you let yourself explore.