When does a journey truly begin? Is it at the planning stage, halfway through, or only when we look back and realise how far we've come?

My creative journey began by chance — or perhaps by interruption. Photography has been part of my life for over forty years. I lived through the transition from darkroom film to digital editing, and now from traditional image capture to the frontier of AI-enhanced creation. These have all been times of great change, yet somehow, they didn’t alter the heart of what I was doing. I photographed what I was drawn to — what appealed to me — and though the tools evolved, my way of seeing did not. Photography had become a well-worn habit, not a creative breakthrough. Then it all stopped.

I moved to Pembrokeshire and soon after fell ill with Long Covid. The illness was both physically and mentally limiting. Gone were the long days out with my camera. Most days, even lifting it felt beyond reach. My world became smaller — local walks, brief outings to the beach or park. Without fresh images to create, I turned inward, spending more time revisiting the photographs I had already taken.

Out of frustration, or maybe longing, I began experimenting with my images — photos of a nearby harbour, ones I had overlooked before. Using digital tools, I began reworking these images, solarising them, altering the light, colour and tones of the image. What emerged surprised me, familiar scenes became luminous, and vibrant, with unexpected colour and abstraction. A harbour wall became a dance of reds and blues; the tide-washed stone became painterly, encouraging the viewer to look again.

What started as an experiment became a revelation. My photographs were transformed not just altered — they felt alive. They captured something emotional, electric. I was no longer just documenting the world; I was reimagining it.

From this came new bodies of work: abstract, contemporary, rooted in place but transformed by process. Now, as I slowly reclaim a more active life, I can see that my photography has been through its own transformation. The passion I carried for years has evolved into something more experimental, more expressive, almost elemental — and more representative of who I am now.

This creative journey began in darkness — illness, limitation, stillness. But from that place came light, colour, and a new vibrancy. It’s a journey I never planned, but one I’m deeply grateful to be on.

Colin Barnett