Beyond the Gold Stars

If you had asked me a few months ago how I felt about my photography, I would have told you I was rusty. After four years away from the camera, I wasn’t sure if I still had “the eye” for it.

In my day job as a bookkeeper, my world is all about making the numbers balance. Everything has a column; everything has a place. But with a camera in my hand, I’m learning to embrace the parts of life that don’t always add up—the messy, fluid, unscripted moments that happen when we stop trying to be so precise.

To give myself a gentle push, I rejoined a couple of photo challenges, like 52Frames. I got lucky right away. One of my first submissions—a window reflection with my daughter—was featured on their Instagram page. The very next week, another photo was selected as a top pick for the gallery.

I was over the moon. It felt like a massive confidence boost, like someone had handed me a gold star and said, “You’ve still got it.” But the thing about gold stars is that once you get one, you start craving the next. I realised quickly that if I wasn’t careful, I’d start shooting to please others instead of satisfying my own curiosity.

I’ve had to remind myself to look for the story in the ordinary, regardless of whether a photo gets “picked.”

A few Sundays ago, I was in full “weekend reset” mode—prepping food and tidying the house. By late afternoon, it was a warm 28 degrees, so we headed to the park to let the kids burn off some energy. They spent two hours zooming around on their scooters until they had “tomato faces” from the heat.

The challenge theme that week was “Get Low,” so I spent the afternoon crouched on the grass, seeing the world from a different level. When my daughter hopped on the swing, I kept moving around to find a good angle, snapping quite a few shots to try and catch the light just right. It’s always a bit of a guessing game until I get home and see the photos on a bigger screen, but this one really stood out—the timing was just right, with the sun low enough to lose that harsh midday glare. It ended up being a “52Pick,” but the real win was capturing that fleeting moment of peace and freedom.

The following week, the theme was “Get High.” I had a specific plan to shoot from a high bridge at the train station, but reality had other ideas. The security fences were too high to see through, and the summer heat was becoming a bit much for a “fun” outing.

I had to pivot. I ducked into a nearby shopping centre just as it was closing. Standing at the top of the escalators, I just watched. I saw workers rushing home and shoppers loaded with groceries—some glued to their phones, others just looking tired.

I took several shots, but the one I submitted (below) captured those clean geometric lines and that strange feeling of being a “silent watcher.” Standing still while the rest of the world hurried past felt like a tiny act of rebellion. It reminded me that being an observer is a gift, whether or not the photo is “perfect.”

Then came the weeks when my photos didn’t get a special mention.

I’ll be honest: when you go from being “featured” to being just another face in the crowd, it can feel a bit flat. For a minute or two, I’d feel defeated. I’d start over-analysing everything—was the lighting bad? Is my style too boring?

But I’m trying to catch myself. Photography—and life, really—is so subjective. If I only feel successful when someone else gives me a thumbs up, I’m letting them control my energy. Now, when that “not good enough” thought creeps in, I let it sit for a minute or two, and then I move on. I stay humble enough to keep learning, but I remind myself that I’m doing this for me.

External validation is a lovely bonus, but it’s a shaky foundation to build on. My goal this year isn’t to win awards; it’s simply to be a little better at my craft than I was yesterday. I’m learning to look for the “gold” in the afternoon light or the lines of an escalator, rather than waiting for someone else to tell me I found it.

“You don't need a crowd or a round of applause to be an artist. Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is just keep showing up for yourself, even when you’re the only one who sees the work.”

Is there something you’ve stopped doing because you weren’t getting the “likes” or the recognition you hoped for? What would happen if you did it just for the joy of it this week?

With love & gratitude,

Thanks for being here. Simply Kysemi is a space where I’m practising a slower, more intentional pace. To keep things calm, I check my messages and comments only when I have the time. I truly appreciate your thoughts and will get back to you as soon as my schedule allows.