8 Clicks from Nowhere Productions

Category: [2026] The First Year

Chapter List

  • Banger Trap

    If there was a simple and obvious way to credit the ephemeral wisdom of random video clips that pass through ones feed in the middle of an evening doom-scroll session I might write the exact coordinates when and where this particular term crossed my screen. 

    The notion of a “banger trap” pinned down something that I had been thinking about a lot lately as I scrolled through the endless posts by countless technically excellent photographers posting their best works.

    All of those pictures of perfectly lit sunsets and amazingly hued mountain scapes and perfectly focussed wildlife glamour shots were technically awesome. Amazing. Aspirational and skilled.

    And yet they made me feel almost nothing.

    I scrolled and scrolled and scrolled and my mind was on repeat saying: yup, yup, seen it, yup, lovely, yup, yup…

    They are all very skilled photographers and will likely have successful careers selling their talent and their banger content. But after seeing the same perfect photos more times than I can count and the abundance of kudos and praise? Well, it strikes me that it starts to seem like little more than a factory product, mass produced and polished.

    Instead?

    Show me something real. Show me life. Show me imperfection. Show me something I see everyday in a different way that gives me a new perspective on the mundane. Show me more than perfect.

    I get it. Showcasing our technical best work is a calling card of skill and experience, but it’s also a trap: a snare line upon which it is easy to trip and snag, that the banger is the ultimate and final stage of making great art. 

    Because I don’t think it is.

  • Knots Blocks

    How does one go about unlearning what society probably taught us about talent?

    I know from personal experience that almost everything I believe about what it means to be good at something is wrapped up in an expectation from an audience: an employer, a customer, a friend, or even a parent (reaching right back to the beginning.)

    As I write this blog and parse out the various topics I want to explore I realize that I have already written a lot about those very expectations and how to first recognize them and then later prioritize how much heed they should be offered.

    Even as I was sitting down to write this I had just come off a few moments of drinking some tea and scrolling through my social media feed. My favourite feed these days is a collection of photographers promoting their work. And yet noting just how rigid the conformity is within the confines of that feed has been nagging at something in my mind. Every post is some glamorously lit epic nature scene or a broody black and white bit of urban street photography or a smiling family squared into the frame with a rustic backdrop to set the mood. Kudos abounded for those posts because, yes, they were solid works of technical skill—but also, maybe, perhaps because they fit into a mold of social expectation and consumer value. 

    Are those guideposts for other to follow? Or is there something mundane lurking in aligning creative outputs with social expectations? 

    Under the category of Knots & Blocks, I’lll be writing more on this topic as the months wear on.

  • Fifty Walks

    As I write these posts and use this blog as a weekday creativity exercise I am approaching fifty.

    (Don’t ask me! I don’t know how that happened either. I certainly don’t feel so old.)

    Many of my running friends mark milestones in age with a race distance to match. For me that would me running a fifty kilometre race before I roll over the odometer on my age. It is not necessarily impossible, but as I have informally stepped away from such long races (a post for another blog) it does not seem a good fit. 

    Instead, I have opted to celebrate and commemorate by trying to do fifty walks before I turn fifty.

    Loosely structured, those walks will follow a couple rules: they must be of a certain distance, need to contain something I would consider “exploration” and also they should present me with an opportunity to create. What this will almost always and usually mean is that I will be walking a photo expedition.

    I used to do these photo expeditions, as I called them, quite frequently: camera charged and ready, I would just go out into the suburban wilderness near where I live and snap hundreds of photos. No rules. No restrictions. No checklist. No forcing myself into boxes. Just taking photos for the sheer joy of exploring the craft.

    Some of my best pictures and much of my best learning happened when the only goal was fresh air and having an open mind to opportunity.

    Maybe what I’m really hoping to achieve with rekindling my long walks this summer isn’t so much about the walks but finding fifty opportunities to take photos.

  • Hard Change, two

    (Continued from Hard Change)

    Change is hard.

    The one thing you never really understand the gravitas of until it body slams you down to the ground of your own ambitions is that there is struggle at every level and with every step.

    I have been crossing the bridge of change for over two years as I write this having left what many would consider a cushy government job in search of something with far less bureaucracy and far more agency to do work that was (for lack of a better way to put it) morally and creatively positive. There are a thousand and one nuances to that statement and a career spanning twenty-five years stacked with as many successes as struggles, but in the end the yearning for something greater than being a cog in a machine won out.

    And what I have I learned is that so few respect that struggle. Those still on solid ground almost unanimously reject the very idea of crossing a bridge to something new.

    The other cogs in the machine often seem resentful.

    Those yearning to have their turn in the machine are often scornful.

    And the many who reject the machine itself are distrustful of anyone who ever participated in the machine at all.

    I stepped out of the machine to find a purpose for the second half of my life that was far across that bridge of change, invisible on the other side, though something of which I had heard through rumours might exist. What I suspect is that the bridge itself might be so long that the crossing of it is the destination itself.

  • Go Board 

    About a year ago I started getting advertisements for a neat little writing setup called a distraction-free word processor. There were a couple varieties, but usually they were little more than a cheap little keyboard attached to a simple screen and marketed as a “this device does one thing” tool. It was intended to keep distractible writers on task by removing the allure of all the other apps on our computers and phones.

    I didn’t buy one.

    But I did realize that the idea itself is solid, and if implemented in other ways has a secondary and perhaps more important benefit.

    For my own version, I bought a small, lightweight bluetooth keyboard, tethered a small phone stand to the wrist strap (yes, my keyboard has a wrist strap) and I keep it handy when I go out to run errands or on travel jaunts or am just playing dad’s taxi. 

    It is not only about eliminating distractions, but it also becomes about casual convenience and opportunity. 

    I am sitting in a cafe right now writing this on my portable setup while I wait for an appointment. I could have brought my computer but I didn’t want to lug it around all morning. I could have brought a book, but why read when I can write? I went light, and then realized I had both time to kill …and a keyboard in my car.

    In this case the distractionlessness is secondary to the opportunity to create—and to create on the go.

    I’m not selling anything here except the idea that the best creative tool is the one you have ready when you are ready and able to create something. A sketchbook in your pocket. A camera on your phone. A keyboard in the glovebox of your vehicle.

    You might think that a simpler and more convenient tool is not going to showcase your best work, but when the alternative is making nothing at all I would argue that making something in the moment is better than having the best tools and never having them around when opportunity strikes.