The choice to focus solely on black and white is undoubtedly a conscious one. Now, don’t get me wrong, there are extraordinarily talented photographers creating beautiful work in colour. I enjoy their work. I mean, who doesn’t love a great autumn image, or a vibrant scene where colour is inseparable from the culture of a place? I take my hat off to photographers who have the gift of truly seeing colour.

And I’ll admit, I used to shoot colour. But for me, colour image-making became complicated. Opposing colours, profiles, printing, getting everything to work together — it became another layer of decisions between me and the photograph. And the truth is, I wasn’t particularly good at it. Trying to emulate photographers who were only frustrated me and diverted my attention from what should be a fulfilling creative practice.

So I chose black and white.

And something happened. The frustrations of colour simply fell away.

Obviously, when I’m standing in the field, the world is still in colour. But I no longer feel compelled to make sense of all of it. The overwhelm quietens, and I begin to see differently. I see composition. I see movement. I see shape, shadow and relationships.

Most importantly, I seek the architecture of light.

Black and white doesn’t feel like the absence of colour to me. It feels like the removal of something that was getting in the way.