Still Dreaming, Still Learning

What’s something you’ve done that you never thought you could?

This one is very easy to answer.

In fact, I reckon I could probably give you two answers. Funny how life works out sometimes, isn’t it?

Around twenty years ago, I started writing poetry.

Well, poetry is probably what we’ll call it. Back then, I referred to them as my scribbles, and if I’m honest, that’s still a pretty good description of some of them.

I didn’t start writing because I wanted to be a poet. I wasn’t dreaming of seeing my name in magazines, winning awards, or having people read my words.

Nope.

I started writing because I needed to get the stuff in my head out of it.

My mental health was in a pretty rough place, and I needed a way to process the thoughts, emotions, and general chaos that I was struggling to make sense of. Writing became a form of therapy, a pressure valve, and eventually a way of understanding myself a little better.

It was never about being good enough for anyone else.

It was about trying to be okay.

As I kept writing, something unexpected happened. People started taking an interest in my words. I wrote a poem for a family member’s naming ceremony, and people began asking where I’d got it from.

When I told them I’d written it myself, they seemed rather surprised.

Truth be told, so was I!

Perhaps there was something in this poetry malarkey after all.

Fast-forward twenty years, and I’ve had my work published in magazines and books, written six books of my own, and even picked up awards for my poetry.

For a bloke who started writing just to try and keep his head above water never imagined that his words would find their way into print, let alone receive recognition.

I certainly didn’t set out with any of that in mind.

I was just trying to make sense of life, one scribble at a time.

And yet, somewhere along the way, those scribbles became something more.

They became my voice.

Then there’s the camera…

The second answer would obviously be photography.

I’ve always enjoyed taking pictures, but it was never something I thought of as a talent. When I got my first camera phone, I started snapping away at whatever caught my eye.

A bird. A landscape. Something interesting on a walk. Whatever took my fancy, really.

I wasn’t following some grand artistic vision. I wasn’t studying photography or worrying about aperture, shutter speeds, focal lengths, or any of those other technical things that proper photographers seem to know about.

I just liked taking pictures.

Still do, actually.

The difference is that people started noticing them.

Some of my photographs have been shared by local news outlets, which is something I certainly never expected when I first started pointing a phone at things and pressing a button.

And then there was the opportunity to photograph an event featuring Howard Jones.

Yes, THAT Howard Jones!

Genuine 80s pop royalty.

If you’d told me years ago that one day I’d be taking photographs at an event with someone whose music helped soundtrack an era, I’d probably have looked at you as though you’d been at the cooking sherry.

But it happened.

And that’s the thing about life. Sometimes you stumble into opportunities that you never even knew were possible, simply because you followed something you enjoyed.

No master plan. No five-year strategy. No carefully mapped-out career.

Just a bloke with a camera, taking pictures of things that caught his eye.

So what have I learned

I suppose the biggest lesson is that you don’t always need to know where something is going before you start.

Sometimes, you just need to begin.

You don’t have to be brilliant at something on day one. You don’t need qualifications, a grand ambition, or even the confidence to call yourself good at what you do.

Sometimes, you just need to give yourself permission to have a go.

For me, poetry started as a way of looking after my mental health. Photography started as a bit of fun.

Neither began with the intention of achieving anything spectacular.

And yet both have taken me places I never expected to go.

My poetry has been published, recognised, and awarded. My photographs have reached audiences I never imagined, and I’ve had opportunities that the younger version of me would probably have thought were beyond his reach.

Am I some sort of literary genius or photographic wizard?

Absolutely not.

I’m still learning. I’m still experimenting. I still write things that need a fair bit of work, and I still take photographs that don’t quite turn out the way I imagined.

But I keep going.

Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the last twenty years, it’s that you never really know what might come from doing something that makes you feel a little more like yourself.

Sometimes, the thing you start doing simply to survive becomes the thing that helps you thrive.

And sometimes, the hobby you pick up without a second thought turns into an opportunity you could never have dreamed of.

So, if you’re sitting there wondering whether you should give something a go, perhaps this is your nudge.

Write the poem.

Take the photograph.

Pick up the paintbrush.

Try the thing that’s been sitting at the back of your mind.

You don’t have to know where it will lead.

You just have to start.

Because twenty years ago, I was a bloke scribbling words to help make sense of his own head and taking pictures because something caught his eye.

I never imagined either would lead to the things they have.

And honestly?

I’m rather glad I gave them a go.

Stay safe.

BC

An Old Camera, a big dream

What’s something you’ve done that your past self would be proud of?

That’s an interesting one?

When we look back at our younger selves, we tend to remember the things we got wrong. The opportunities we missed. The things we were too scared to try. The dreams we quietly tucked away because, well, you know, life got in the way.

But every now and then, something happens that makes you stop and think…

“Blimey. I actually did that!”

For me, one of those moments would be taking an old camera, a dream, and a stubborn determination to see what I could achieve, and getting one of my photographs in the local news.

Now, I appreciate that might not sound particularly spectacular to some people.

It’s not winning an Oscar. It’s not appearing on the front of National Geographic. And it certainly doesn’t involve a Hollywood producer knocking on my door offering me a six-figure contract.

Although, if one happens to be reading this, my email address is available. Just saying.

But here’s the thing.

It was never really about the newspaper.

It was about proving to myself that I could do something with a passion, a bit of determination, and whatever equipment I could get my hands on.

You see, I’ve always enjoyed taking photographs. Capturing those little moments that other people might walk straight past. A bird sitting in just the right place. The way the light catches a building. A landscape that makes you stop for a moment and simply appreciate where you are.

Sometimes you get lucky.

Sometimes you take fifty photographs and discover that forty-nine of them are absolutely rubbish.

And sometimes, just sometimes, you get that one image.

The one that makes you smile.

The one that makes you think, “Actually, that’s not half bad.”

And then, when that photograph finds its way into the local news?

Well, that’s something else entirely.

Because suddenly, something you created, something you saw through your own eyes and captured, is being shared with other people.

And that matters.

Not because it makes you famous. Not because it means you’re suddenly some sort of photographic genius who should be wearing a black polo neck and talking about aperture settings over an expensive coffee.

But because it reminds you that you don’t necessarily need all the latest equipment, the perfect circumstances, or a carefully mapped-out plan to make something worthwhile.

Sometimes, you just need to start.

Take the photograph.

Learn as you go.

Make mistakes.

Try again.

And keep going.

Looking back, I think my younger self would be rather chuffed with that achievement. Perhaps a little surprised, too.

After all, dreams have a funny way of changing as we get older. Sometimes they get bigger. Sometimes they get smaller. And sometimes they sit quietly in the back of our minds, waiting for us to stop making excuses and give them a chance.

I’m not suggesting that getting a photograph into the local news is going to change the world.

But it changed how I looked at what I might be capable of.

And that, in its own little way, is important.

These days, photography has become a much bigger part of my life. I’m still learning, still experimenting, and still occasionally pressing buttons without being entirely certain what they’re going to do.

Some things never change.

But I’ve learned that you don’t have to be the best at something to enjoy it. You don’t need qualifications hanging on the wall or thousands of followers telling you how brilliant you are.

You just need passion and to care enough to keep doing it.

And if something good comes from that? Brilliant.

If it doesn’t? You’ve still spent your time doing something you love.

So, what would my past self be proud of?

Probably the fact that I took a chance on myself.

That I picked up a camera, followed a dream, and managed to get one of my photographs into the local news.

Not bad for a bloke who simply wanted to take some decent pictures.

And perhaps that’s the real answer to this question.

It’s not always about the grand achievements or the life-changing milestones.

Sometimes, it’s about looking back at the person you used to be and realising that you’ve become someone who had the courage to try.

Someone who kept learning, and failing.

Someone who didn’t give up on the things that made him happy.

And someone who discovered that an old camera and a dream could take him further than he ever expected.

So, if there’s something you’ve always wanted to try, perhaps give it a go.

Pick up that camera.

Write that poem.

Start that project.

Take that first step, even if you haven’t got the faintest idea what you’re doing.

You never know where it might lead.

And one day, you might just look back and realise that the person you used to be would be rather proud of the person you’ve become, I know I am

Stay safe,

BC

Scribbling Poems, to Chasing Light

I’m sure you’re all aware that, apart from my twenty-odd years as a fully qualified scribbleologist (poet to those who prefer the technical terminology), I’ve also had a longstanding love affair with photography. Words have always been my way of capturing the world, but lately I’ve discovered that a camera can do much the same thing — only with fewer syllables and considerably less punctuation.

And blimey, things seem to be gathering pace!

Since buying my first DSLR back in October last year, I’ve photographed a wedding, covered two Pride events (one of them as the main photographer, no less), and had the pleasure of photographing an evening fundraiser featuring the legendary Howard Jones. Yes, that Howard Jones. Eighties musical royalty, and me with a camera trying to look as though I know exactly what I’m doing.

Next up, I’ve another shoot this month at a poetry event hosted by local celebrity Tom Hirons. Which means I’ll be swapping between two of my favourite worlds: the one where people perform their words, and the one where I attempt to capture the moment before it disappears into the ether.

When I bought that camera, I rather fancied I’d take a few photographs, enjoy myself, and perhaps produce the occasional image that didn’t require an apology. I didn’t quite anticipate things moving along quite so quickly.

But here we are. One minute you’re experimenting with a new bit of kit, the next you’re photographing weddings, Pride celebrations and musical legends, with more opportunities popping up on the horizon.

It’s funny how life sometimes opens a door when you’re busy looking through a viewfinder.

So, between scribbling poems, chasing light and trying to remember which button does what, it seems this particular adventure is gathering momentum.

And if there’s one thing I’ve learnt after twenty-plus years of playing with words, it’s this: you never really know where a creative itch might lead you.

I’d better keep the batteries charged, then. It looks like I’m going to need them!

Totnes Castle (Totnes Times)
Ruth Theodore Totnes Pride.
Portrait of Howard Jones.
(Sherree Valentine-Daines)
The River Dart (Narnia)
Roses (Mirror photography, DSLR)
Raven (Paignton beach)

Put the Bloody Suitcase Down: Let Go, Find Peace, Live Free

What’s one thing you know now that would have saved your younger self a lot of pain?

If there’s one thing I wish I could sit my younger self down and explain, over a decent brew, it would be this:

You don’t have to carry everything.

Not every injustice needs to be revisited. Not every wrong needs to be replayed in your head a thousand times. And not every person who hurt you deserves to occupy so much space in your life long after they’ve gone.

I spent far too much time holding onto anger.

Replaying conversations.

Thinking about what I should have said.

Wondering why people did what they did.

And, of course, imagining all the wonderfully satisfying things I could say if I ever got the chance to have that conversation again.

Funny thing is, most of those conversations never happened.

But I still carried the anger.

And who was it hurting?

Me.

The people and situations I was angry about weren’t necessarily giving me a second thought. Yet there I was, dragging the past around like an overpacked suitcase I couldn’t bring myself to put down.

It took me a while to understand something rather important.

Letting go doesn’t mean what happened was acceptable.

It doesn’t mean forgiving everyone, forgetting the lessons, or pretending an injustice never happened.

It simply means refusing to let yesterday dictate how you live today.

There’s a little wisdom in Buddhism that I wish I’d understood much earlier. We suffer when we cling too tightly to things, including our anger, our expectations and our need for life to have been different.

The past has happened.

We can learn from it. We can grieve it. We can even be bloody furious about it for a while.

But we cannot change it.

At some point, we have to decide whether we want to keep carrying it.

These days, I try to look at anger a little differently. I acknowledge it, ask myself what it’s trying to tell me, and then try to let it go.

Some days, I manage that better than others. I’m human, after all.

But I’m learning that peace isn’t about winning every argument or getting the apology you deserved.

Sometimes peace is simply deciding that your happiness is worth more than your resentment.

So, to my younger self, if I could pass on just one piece of advice, it would be this:

Feel what you need to feel. Learn what you can. Stand up for yourself when you need to.

But when the time comes, put the bloody suitcase down.

You’ve got places to go, people to love, and a life to live.

Don’t waste it carrying yesterday into tomorrow.

Stay safe,

Bc

Howard Jones, a Paintbrush, and Mrs Bob’s Missing Selfie

Last Friday, I had the good fortune to photograph the legendary singer songwriter Howard Jones at a fundraiser at St Mary’s Church in my hometown. The event was in aid of The Jamming Station, a local organisation doing some wonderful work with youth music.

Howard was being painted live by the hugely talented Sherree Valentine-Daines, with the finished painting later going under the hammer alongside some other rather interesting lots, with Martin Roberts.

I had a lovely time, met some lovely people, and got some shots I’m really pleased with. I also managed to give the floor at St Mary’s a fairly thorough workout in the process. Sorry about that!

And, of course, I couldn’t resist a cheeky selfie with Howard Jones. Mrs Bob is a big fan, and as she couldn’t make it along, I thought I’d better return home with some photographic evidence. It’s the least I could do, really.

Stay safe Bc

Sherree Valantine-Daines
Howard Jones & S V-D
Half time
Howard Jones
Howard Jones
Martin Roberts
The finished portrait

Sunday Snaps

Crystal ball photography
Narnia night sky
Totnes Pride open mic
Pharos islands
Bob in action

This last picture is a special one. It was sent to me by a fellow photographer and Pride volunteer. It’s nice to see things from the outside.

So I’d like to ask you to send me one of your favourite pictures and why it’s special to

BobChristianpoetry@gmail.com

I’d like to share it on my guest slot on Sunday snaps

Stay safe

Bc

The Accidental Photographer Strikes Again

I think this last week has probably been the pinnacle of my 2026 journey.

But before we get into that, let’s rewind a little.

At the start of the year I spotted an advert on Instagram looking for volunteer photographers for Torbay Pride.

Now, being me, I thought…

Why not?

So I threw my hat into the ring.

Somehow, they said yes.

And suddenly I found myself being one of the volunteer photographers for Torbay Pride.

My first proper photography gig.

And I bloody loved it.

Something had happened.

That little spark had caught light.

So when my hometown of Narnia announced its own Pride in July, I did what any sensible person would do.

I sent them a cheeky email asking if they needed a photographer.

Apparently, nobody had thought of that.

So, by a mixture of enthusiasm, timing and possibly nobody else putting their hand up, I became the official Pride photographer.

Which brings us to last week.

Totnes Pride.

Another fantastic day. Another camera full of photographs. Another reminder of just how much I love doing this.

And then came the inevitable bit.

The bit where I sat down afterwards and started looking through hundreds of photographs.

Yes, they were in focus.

Yes, they were clear.

But…

Did they have that something?

Probably not.

And when you combine that with a healthy dollop of imposter syndrome and failing to score in a poetry competition, it’s fair to say I was being a little hard on myself.

Then Friday happened.

One of the Pride volunteers contacted me.

She sent me a lovely photograph of me in action with my camera.

Then came the unexpected bit.

She was looking for a volunteer photographer to photograph 80s music legend Howard Jones while he had his portrait painted, followed by an auction raising money for a local youth music charity.

Would I be interested?

Well…

Yes.

Obviously.

I didn’t even need to think about it.

More experience.

More hours behind the camera.

A chance to build my portfolio.

And, quite frankly, an excuse to take photographs.

What’s not to like?

Then, as if the universe was trying to make its point, some of my astrophotography started producing some rather lovely results too.

And suddenly that slump didn’t seem quite so deep.

Perhaps I’d just forgotten something fairly obvious.

I’m still learning.

I’m still finding my eye.

Not every photograph is going to be the photograph.

And that’s okay.

You take the next one.

You learn.

You keep going.

Sometimes you just need to stop judging the last frame long enough to notice that you’re already holding the camera for the next one.

And maybe there’s something to be said for simply being there for that moment, rather than worrying too much about what comes afterwards.

Anyway…

The camera’s charged.

There are more photographs to take.

And apparently, I’ve got a portrait of Howard Jones to go and shoot.

So I’d better get on with it.

Stay safe,

BC

Comics, Cameras and Other Bad Ideas

If you could start a new business right now, what would it be?

If I’m being completely honest, the obvious answer would probably be photography.

I love photography.

It’s gone from being something I did with my phone, wandering around taking pictures of anything that caught my eye, to something I genuinely want to get better at.

Nature.

Birds.

Beaches.

People.

Events.

The occasional photograph that makes me stop and think, bloody hell, I actually took that.

I’ve even started doing photography work at events, and there’s something rather lovely about being able to turn something you enjoy into something people are willing to pay you for.

So yes.

If I was being sensible…

A photography business.

Easy.

Except…

I think I’d love to own a comic book shop.

Yep.

A comic book shop.

Because apparently being a bloke in his fifties who already has far too many hobbies, books and bits of geekery apparently isn’t enough.

I need premises.

And stock.

And shelves.

Lots and lots of shelves.

I’ve loved comics and graphic novels for years.

I’ve rambled before about how Watchmen was my first graphic novel and how that started a lifelong love affair with comic books.

And the more I think about it, the more I realise that owning a comic shop wouldn’t really be about selling comics.

Not entirely.

It would be about creating somewhere people actually want to go.

A proper little geeky Aladdin’s cave.

Comics.

Graphic novels.

Maybe some collectables.

Games.

A few bits of nostalgia.

Somewhere you could walk in looking for the latest issue of something and end up having a forty-minute conversation about Batman.

Or Transformers.

Or why the original Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were considerably better than they had any right to be.

Somewhere you could discover comics for the first time.

Somewhere adults could rediscover the things they loved when they were younger.

And somewhere people could simply geek out without having to explain themselves.

I think I’d like that.

There’s something quite appealing about having a little shop that feels like your place.

Not some huge corporate business.

Just a little independent shop, run by a bloke who probably knows far too much about fictional characters and not nearly enough about accounting.

So maybe photography is the sensible answer.

It’s something I’m passionate about.

Something I’m already doing.

Something I’m increasingly taking seriously.

But the comic shop?

That’s the one that makes me smile when I think about it.

And perhaps that tells me something.

Because sometimes the business you could build isn’t necessarily the business you’d love to build.

And if I ever do open one…

You’ll probably find me behind the counter with a camera around my neck, a comic in my hand, and absolutely no idea what I’m doing.

Which, if we’re being honest, is pretty much how I approach most things.

Stay safe,

BC