The RAW versus JPEG debate never dies — and neither does the attitude that comes with it. Here's why I ditched RAW, shoot exclusively in black and white JPEG, and have absolutely no intention of going back.

Is "fine art" a legitimate description of black and white landscape photography, or has the term been used so liberally it's lost all meaning? A personal reflection on where the label came from, what it actually means, and whether it still holds any real weight.

A regular morning dog walk through the Chiltern Hills with Elvis and the Olympus Stylus 1S — when the light is this good, a twenty-five minute loop can turn into a two-hour photowalk without you even noticing. Today it was all about shadows, texture and a pair of imaginary fighting stags.

Most photography websites attract zero organic traffic, generate no income, and get quietly abandoned within a year or two. Sound harsh? It's just the reality. Before you take the plunge, here's an honest look at what building a meaningful photography website actually involves — the effort, the timeline, and what nobody in a sponsored video will ever tell you.

A photowalk is simply a walk with a camera—nothing more complicated than that. It isn't about productivity, outcomes, or even coming home with a memory card full of 'keepers.' Instead, it’s about giving your walk a loose purpose, letting you immerse yourself in the sights and smells of the countryside while the world at home stays on pause. Whether you’re carrying a professional DSLR or just the phone in your pocket, the real goal is to breathe, move, and see what unfolds when there’s no pressure to perform.

Everyone's talking about the CCD look and the film look — but what are they, do they actually exist, and can you tell them apart? Three images, three different technologies, one style. See if you can guess which is which.

Six woodlands across four blogs and over a thousand still to explore. The final part of the series steps back from the trees — accessibility, seasons, sounds, and one thing that genuinely needs saying about dog walkers in ancient woodland.

Ashridge contains more ancient and veteran trees than any other National Trust property in the country. Bisham Woods may have inspired the Wild Wood in Wind in the Willows. Two extraordinary woodlands at opposite ends of the Chilterns, and between them enough subject matter to keep a photographer busy for years.

Penn Wood nearly became a golf course. Burnham Beeches hid 100,000 military vehicles under its canopy before D-Day. Two heavyweight ancient woodlands, two very different characters, and between them some of the finest woodland photography conditions in the Chiltern Hills.

There are over a thousand named woodlands in the Chiltern Hills. Ancient, atmospheric, and free to walk into on any given morning with a camera and a dog. This is where the series starts — two of Buckinghamshire's finest bluebell woods, and why woodland photography will test your patience and reward it in equal measure.

A deep dive into the language of black and white photography — tones, contrast, texture, light, layers and depth. Not about converting colour images, not about post processing. About learning to see in black and white before you ever press the shutter.

Black and white photographers whose work I admire and return to — Edwin Smith, James Ravilious, Fay Godwin, Don McCullin, Frank Meadow Sutcliffe, Adrian Vila and Christine Wilson — and why I make a point of not looking at them too closely before picking up my own camera.

A UK black and white landscape photographer's perspective on why the Chiltern Hills — quiet, understated, and full of human intervention — make for more honest and rewarding photography than any mountain summit ever could.

The Sony A700 is a camera that was built to be used — and that's exactly why it still earns its place in my kit today. A second body that keeps me in the same Sony A-mount system, fits in the hip pack, and delivers smoother black and white JPEGs than anything I'd spend ten times the price on. Sometimes old is still good enough, even today.

More Than a Pretty Picture didn't start as a book. It started as a series of blog posts about why I photograph, what the practice gives me, and how it fits into everyday life. A couple were published, the rest were withheld, and somewhere along the way the decision was made to turn it all into something more permanent. This is how a collection of reflections became a first book.

I’ve spent years refining what I carry on a photography walk, slowly stripping things back until the gear stopped dictating the experience. This post isn’t about the latest cameras or must-have accessories, but about finding a setup that allows walking and photography to coexist naturally. From my Sony A350 on general photowalks to the more deliberate Sony A700 for book and print work, this is a reflection on simplicity, comfort, and learning to carry only what genuinely earns its place.

What separates a pretty picture from a photograph that truly matters? This piece explores intention, emotion, memory, and why the images we live with often say far more than the ones we simply scroll past.

Why do we pick up a camera? Photography isn’t just about images — it’s about noticing, creating, connecting, and remembering. This is a look at what draws us to the craft and why it matters, even if no one else sees our work.

Picking up the Sony A350 again has been like reopening an old chapter I didn’t realise I’d missed. My first digital DSLR after my film days, it brings back the joy of using a simple, stills-only camera — chunky, tactile, with a CCD sensor that gives black-and-white images real character. Slower walks, everyday routes, and a quiet rhythm of photography suit it perfectly. No expectations, no pressure — just a camera that lets me enjoy shooting again.

Can you really do photography on a budget and still get good images? I put that idea to the test with a £110 Sony A-350 from 2008 — proof that you don’t need the latest gear to capture something worth keeping.