TL;DR: There’s quite a distance between the logic of my day job in accounts and the messiness of creativity. I’m exploring the trial and error of multiple exposure photography and why “doing” is always better than waiting for perfection.
The Messy Middle: Why Doing is Better Than Perfecting
I’ve often thought about the distance between the world of figures and the world of creativity. In my day job, dealing with accounts and payroll, there is a clear logic to everything. The numbers need to balance, the columns need to match, and there is always a definitive “right” answer.
But as I return to my photography, I’m learning that the middle of a creative process is rarely that tidy.
A couple of weeks ago, I had a simple win that reminded me why I love this journey. For a “Complementary Colours” challenge, I stayed close to home and used one of our green doors as a backdrop. I had my daughter hold a red capsicum against the green paint, and the contrast was striking (above).
I don’t always get the exact picture I envision in my head; instead, it’s a process of trial and error. I’ve learned to let the final edit surprise me, and this one was a happy surprise—the way those colours popped was exactly the kind of simple beauty I’m looking for.
The Industrial Experiment
Feeling a bit more confident, I decided to push myself for the following week’s theme: “Unexplored”. I scouted a few nearby spots and settled on an industrial backstreet—a place I’ve driven past for years but never actually stopped to look at.
It was a quiet Sunday evening, right as the sun was starting to dip. I felt completely out of place standing there in such an unfamiliar area, especially while trying out the multiple-exposure feature on my camera for the first time. I was attempting to experiment with the style of Thomas Vanoost—a photographer known for those complex, layered multiple exposures—and I wasn’t even sure what I was supposed to be looking for or how to frame the shot. But since there were only a few cyclists passing by, I felt brave enough to just start experimenting.
About 45 minutes later, I thought I had captured the right images—harsh, metallic lines and silhouettes—that I could work with at home. In my head, I had a vision of a complex, artistic layer. But when I got home and opened the files on my laptop, my “numbers brain” started to itch. The images weren’t the clean, intentional layers I’d hoped for. They felt, quite frankly, like a mess.
The Truth of the Struggle
I spent hours sitting at my computer, editing and re-editing from scratch. The more I tried to “fix” it, the more frustrated I became. I wanted it to look like the work of an expert, but the harder I worked, the further away from my vision it felt.
Eventually, with the deadline looming, I had to call it done and submit it (below).
It would have been easy to look at those photos and feel like I’d failed. But as I closed my laptop, I realised something important: I had learned more in those frustrated hours of struggling with layers and light than I ever would have by just reading about the technique. Clarity doesn’t come from planning; it comes from execution.
I’m teaching myself to be okay with being a “rookie.” It means I don’t have to be a master today. I just have to be someone who is willing to get out of the car, stand in a quiet factory street, and try.
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.
