How my battle with loneliness made me become a photographer

Read more about World Mental Health Day (10 October 2022).

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As I turned left coming up from the tube station at Tottenham Court Road my excitement became more and more apparent. It was the last Tuesday of 2019 and Oxford Street was calmer than I expected. The closer I got to Berwich Street the faster I was walking.

The door was already open when I finally made it to Jessops, one of the many camera stores in London. I looked at all the camera bodies they were selling, but I already knew I’ll decide between two products. As I picked up the Sony A7 II after the Fuji X-T3 the choice was obvious. The grip was so much better, and I wanted a full frame sensor so badly that I bought the much older and, in some areas, less capable Sony.

As I sat down on the DLR going home I was so close to open the big black package, but instead I started to think about what this new piece of equipment will enable me to do. Since I had moved to London only four months prior to this purchase, everything was new to me. The people, the architecture, the culture, the public transportation and I also had to now live most of my life in English. I really wanted to capture everything that looked interesting in London since I’ve only visited the Big Smoke once before my move. I used my then fairly new Samsung Galaxy S10 (which I still have to this day) and even edited the photos on the phone itself, but it clearly had its limitations and I wanted something better I can experiment with.

I took some photos the next few days and there’s one I was quite happy with back then. We can all agree that it’s not a particularly interesting image, but the main thing I noticed when I was editing it is that I had way more information to work with (which shouldn’t be a surprise since I shot everything in raw format) and not everything fell apart immediately in the dark. Though I wanted to capture the towers at Canary Wharf in the distance, because of the harsh lights in the foreground I accidentally drew the viewer’s attention to the ships instead. Also, the buildings are leaning backwards because I didn’t know how to take advantage of the camera’s built-in features just yet.

I was so curious I started to follow a few photographers most people in this space would probably know by now. Since I have an analytical mind, I lived my whole life mostly based on numbers and logic. Therefore, I could easily understand the technical side of photography like aperture, shutter speed, focal length, sensitivity, and so on. However, I didn’t know what makes a good photo and how to even define “good” in the first place. I took hundreds of images and nearly all of them were awful, but I always learned something, so it wasn’t wasted time after all.

I did all the rookie mistakes you could possibly imagine. I overedited bad images just to make them look less bad. I took wide angles shots from way lower than you should ever do and when nothing worked, I turned pictures into black and white, so they looked more “professional”. I also experimented with long exposure shots and high dynamic range photos. I approached everything from the technical side of things, since that was the part I could easily understand. Looking back however, these were all necessary steps in order to learn anything about photography.

Just over a week after that mediocre shot of Canary Wharf I took a much more meaningful one in the northern part of the city, though I have to admit I was a bit lucky with it. I was wondering around Camden Town and noticed two guys playing on some instruments just next to the tube station. I took a few images of them, but since it was only the second week using my camera instead of my phone, I tried to get the composition and settings right with the 28-70mm kit lens and worry less about everything else. It’s only when I got home, I realized that their faces could easily tell a story of some sort. The colors didn’t match the mood I wanted though, so I turned the image black and white - this time intentionally. It was one of the earliest images I genuinely liked and what I wanted to capture more of. Little did I know that in just a few weeks the world is going to shut down for a long time.

Shutting down

When the first lockdown was announced I knew that we’re in a serious situation and I’m on my own here. People started to wear masks which made me feel as if I was already in danger. My first reaction was complete ignorance. I didn’t wear a mask, I didn’t carry hand sanitizers with me, frankly I did a lot of irresponsible things in hindsight. But then the numbers started to rise sharply, we learned more of what it could mean to be infected with this thing and my ignorance was gone in a day.

I bought multiple washable masks and since they were scarce, I didn’t care about the price tag, I just wanted at least one as soon as possible. I was scared. I was scared because I knew I was not in my best shape, I didn’t exercise, I didn’t eat well enough and because all my friends and family still lived in Hungary, should anything have happened to me nobody could’ve flown into the country as the airports were under very strict control. After a few sleepless nights I shifted gears and turned my attention to my diet, my almost non-existent yoga practice and more importantly I spent most of my time working as it was somewhat fulfilling and helped me keep my anxiety in check.

Since I was stuck at home, I started to make YouTube videos, but I was very uncomfortable to be in front of a camera, so I stopped doing that after a few months. It felt like a failure, especially because I invested a lot of money into lights, equipment and software. At the end of the day, at least I learned a lot about video editing, lighting and scripting. I went back to photography very soon and instead of focusing on gear reviews and things I “must have” if I want to take this seriously, I went the opposite way. Thanks to the YouTube algorithm I quickly bumped into Sean Tucker, a then London based street photographer who has a very soothing, calm voice and he approached photography from a somewhat philosophical perspective which really caught my attention.

I’m not going to lie though, for a couple of months it didn’t really click what he and the photographers he introduced to the world were really talking about. They were speaking of feelings, moods, vocation, intention and things I could hardly translate into numbers or settings standing behind my camera. Despite all of that, in early October 2020 I decided to take a ride with the Emirates Air Line (also known as the London Cable Car) and take a shot of the O2 Arena since I was living quite close to the area. The reason why I remember this afternoon so vividly is because this was probably the first time, I had a clear plan in mind of what I wanted to do, and the lack of randomness made it much more interesting.

The photo came out okay, in fact I was quite happy with the result as far as I remember. I was encouraged, so I decided to spend at least a few hours every other weekend in the City of London taking photos. The first trip went okay, but I started to reach the limits of my kit lens (or at least that’s what I thought) and I really wanted to take ultrawide photos as well, so the obvious choice was to buy new, better-quality lenses that would cover a wider range of focal lengths. That’s how I ended up spending almost two thousand pounds on a pair of Sigma glasses (the 14-24mm f/2.8 Art DG DN and the 24-70mm f/2.8 Art DG DN in case you’re interested).

I really enjoyed going out and shooting with the ultrawide Art lens, it provided a very different perspective of the world around me compared to the cheap Sony. It felt like a novelty and finally, I could make an image of the English National Ballet in the middle of the residential development I was living at. It was the middle of October and I noticed that the Italian restaurant on the peninsula already had pumpkins and some other decoration next to the window. I asked them if it would be okay to take a picture of them since the colors looked so good. They had not problems with that, so I took a few shots, spent almost an hour with editing and ended up uploading only the best one to my Instagram account. Within a day or so someone reached out to me asking for permission to use my image to promote a Halloween thing and I was so surprised I said yes immediately. For a short period of time, I felt the “social proof” I was looking for which was an early sign of what I really wanted to get out of making photos at that time.

Two weeks later the government announced the second lockdown and I basically put my gear away for the rest of the year. I spent both Christmas and New Year’s Eve alone and even though it was fun to take photos of the fireworks from my balcony, there was a growing void inside me as weeks and months went by. I tried to combat it with playing games, but in the end the only thing I achieved was the destruction of my sleep schedule which further pushed my mood towards the negative end of the spectrum - especially because now I also had guilt and shame thanks to not being able to show up for work in time. To compensate this I worked even harder, said yes to basically everything came into my way, and I got the first glimpse of burnout within a few months.

In the mornings I spent sometimes up to thirty minutes in the bathtub with simply crouching and looking in front of me before I even opened the shower. The news broke that the first vaccine is on the horizon, but unfortunately there were nights when my heart rate went up and I found it harder and harder to breath properly. I had to get out of bed, go to the living room and open my balcony door to just stand there for a minute or two and try to slow down my breath using different techniques I learned as part of my yoga practice a few years ago. I was scared that I got infected despite all my efforts and I’ll suffocate in the middle of the night without getting any help or support. There were nights when I was afraid to go to sleep because of this and whenever I felt an elevated heart rate, I was prepared to leave my bedroom if things get worse. It was around the end of March when I hit the bottom.

I somehow managed to get my act together by the next weekend and the unexpected sunshine was really encouraging, so I went to the city after months of not really leaving my flat. I took a few interesting photos, but there was hardly any meaning in any of them (or so I thought). Looking back, I noticed that on most of my images there were no people. Zero. It wasn’t because there was nobody on the streets, but because I was so afraid of someone coming up to me that I decided I won’t even try to capture people - and being an introvert also didn't help. That’s why there’s a lot of abstract images in my collection or photos of different architecture from this time.

Here’s one I took next to Cannon Street that I later called The Metal Leaf. I remember I was so scared that someone from security will jump out from the bushes I literally took two shots and moved along. Even though it was shot at 23mm, I had to get uncomfortably close to the building, there’s no surprise I barely used the other end of my 14-24mm lens most of the time. I tried to remain hidden not because I was doing something wrong, but because I knew I was way weaker both physically and emotionally than I used to be that I didn’t want to expose this part of me to anyone. I had low self-esteem, I found it much harder to defend myself, so I wanted to play safe.

The Sigma lenses were so bulky and heavy that it was more difficult to hold my camera during walking than I originally expected. I often put it back to my backpack, then got it out when I saw something interesting, it started to become a hassle and a very annoying experience with way too many interruptions. Despite that I bought yet another lens, so I could shoot from a distance. I only used my new Tamron 70-180mm f/2.8 twice before I sold it at a loss. At least I could take a much better shot of Canary Wharf than the one I already had from the very first day of 2020.

as only when I visited Brighton the first time in June 2021 and came back with a bunch of uninspiring photos that I told myself “You know what, maybe this photography thing is just not for me”. I still compared everything I produced to photographers who had years if not decades of experience, did it as their main job and who already had their own style and voice. I set the ceiling so high that it was impossible for me to recognize how much I’ve learned in the first 18 months. Moreover, I tried way too hard to replicate other people’s approach to photography which in the beginning was helpful (when I learned the technical fundamentals), but I had no idea what I really wanted to shoot and why - with a very few exceptions.

I requested a quote for both the body and the three lenses from a few camera stores and despite the massive loss I ended up selling everything. I sold the body with the original kit lens it came with at Park Cameras, very close to where I bought them. The Sigma lenses went to Jessops and I think in total I lost just over a thousand pounds compared to the price I paid for everything. When I showed up at Rathbone Place and talked to one of the salespeople who would examine the condition of all my gear, we started to chat a little bit and he asked me why I was selling all this stuff in basically perfect condition. I tried to summarize my decision-making process to him and even showed a couple of pictures I thought were okay, but I clearly didn’t appreciate the time and effort I put into my work based on how I was speaking about my craft.

“You’re definitely a photographer. There might be a long road ahead, but I can immediately see a difference between this photo and the one you showed me from last year.” - he pointed out. It was strange because I brought them stuff they could easily sell for more money than what they’re about to give me. Yet, it felt like if this young guy was trying to convince me to keep everything I put on the table. “Are you sure you want to leave these here?” - he added. I was thinking for a second, but eventually I took the money and left.

Starting over

The next few weeks were interesting. I started to read a new book, I visited Hampstead Heath for the first time, and I continued to improve my almost nonexistent digital drawing skills, but as summer started to fade away, I noticed that something’s just not right, something’s missing. Even though the weather was great I rarely left my flat and it felt like there’s no reason to jump on a tube or catch a train - with the only exception being a day trip to Cambridge where most of the things we wanted to see were still closed.

It was only the last week of August when I understood what I had given away a few months before. Even though my focus was on comparison, attention and all kinds of technical details, I somehow didn’t notice how big of a change having a camera made to my life. It almost forced me to explore more and more from this huge city, I was walking four or five miles without a break, and I didn’t even notice that. Everything felt like novelty. It was exciting to find The Graffiti Tunnel near Leake Street or bump into amazing little squares, coffee shops, interesting buildings or let alone entire botanical gardens.

I was still following photographers on many different social media platforms, and I remember when I watched Sean’s then latest mini documentary with another London based street photographer Josh Edgoose - and I finally got it. There are a few sentences that really spoke to me, and I completely questioned my original intention of why I was going out and taking pictures. He said:

“I like to think that a successful picture is the one you want to look at more than just a split second. It just stops you scrolling on Instagram, Twitter or whatever, it just draws your eye in. It could be a nice flow of something across the frame, it could be a nice color, it could be just a light itself, anything that literally stops you in your tracks for just a second longer than it would normally do. Over the years I found myself more drawn to maybe finding an interesting scene and trying to work on a picture within that scene. I often like to find an area, maybe an interesting wall or some kind of advertisement or something like an initial starting point and then maybe a nice flow of people and trying to build a flow of people across the frame - and by simply just being there and positioning yourself you are kind of increasing the chance of something happening.

I think street photography is a lot about where you position yourself and simply just being there ready with your camera and 99 percent of the time nothing will happen, but simply by showing up and giving it a try that’s the best you can do, I think. You gamble your time, and you may come back with something, more often than not you will come back with nothing at all, you just have to invest your actual free time. It’s just been years and years of getting the miles in, taking a lot of pictures, thousands and thousands of awful pictures of nothing. I mean, to be honest, I maybe get four or five images a year I’m actually like “ah, this is what I was trying to do the whole time, this is what I was aiming for”, but more often than not they aren’t great. The biggest reward is when you do get a picture you are happy with, but there have been times when I’ve gone for a long walk, gone home, absent-mindedly the next day just formatted my memory card and wiped everything and I’ve kind of thought to myself it doesn’t really matter like I had a nice day, I went for a walk and took some pictures.

So, I really just like to try and keep as relaxed and open-minded about it and just take what the street has, take what comes and if it comes together, it does, if it doesn’t it doesn’t. I had a real problem with that when I first started out, every time I went out, I had this huge pressure of like I got to take some pictures, got to get it on Instagram, got to keep the momentum going. Every time I went out, I’d have this crisis of like "have I forgotten how to do it?". I really over the years try and harness that momentum from the word go and be like it doesn’t matter I’ve got my camera, going to go for a walk, keep an open mind, and that’s it at the end of the day. I do very often find that the pictures I’m most happy with without fail will do poorly on Instagram and it took me quite a long time to kind of come to terms with that I guess.”

I decided to free up a huge chunk of money again, but before I blindly spent another few thousand pounds on fancy gear, I wanted to think through what worked previously and what didn’t. I knew that I was happy with the body itself (maybe better low light performance wouldn’t hurt), but when it came to lenses, I was struggling a bit. I loved the idea of shooting ultra-wide photos, but I didn’t want to get insanely close to my subjects. I loved high quality, wide aperture lenses, but I also wanted something light weight and compact, so I can just walk around for hours without my wrist getting tired. I often got carried away in the past by having to deal with the heavy weight of my zoom lenses rather than observing the scene around me.

Thankfully, after looking at the images I was relatively satisfied with and also checked the statistics in Lightroom it was obvious that one of the lenses I’ll have to buy should be around 50mm in focal length and I can also choose a longer and a wider lens on top of the main one I’ll experiment with. That’s how I ended up with my “holy trinity” of lenses, the Sony 20mm f/1.8 G, the Zeiss 55mm f/1.8 and the Sony 85mm f/1.8. I paired them with a Sony A7 III body and since I noticed that I might have an obsession with light, particularly at night I also added a Tiffen Black Pro-Mist 1/8 filter to the basket. A year later I can confidently say that I love all of them, in fact I’m quite keen on trying an even stronger filter (like a 1/2), but I’m getting ahead of myself a little bit.

I couldn’t wait for the notification from my local Receiving House to get my hands on the new body and the first two lenses (I bought the 85mm a few months later). Shooting with a fast prime lens was a breath of fresh air. I didn’t have to think about focal length (other than choosing the “right one” for the day unless I was willing to change lenses on the spot), the whole kit was even lighter than I originally expected, so I felt quite happy with my choices and within a few weeks I started to get results. I took way less images than I used to and spent much more time with just being present and observing my surroundings as I walked through a certain part of the city. I was much more patient and took notes if I saw an interesting scene during the day which could work better at night (and vice-versa), so I would come back at another time.

I moved away from watching gear and lens reviews and tried to learn more about the craft of all the contemporary photographers whose work I really like. My edits became less dramatic, I started to go negative with clarity instead of over sharpening everything and in general I spent much more time with just experimenting. I don’t know why, but after seeing the work of Paola Franqui (aka Monaris) I got obsessed with tone curves, splint toning, the relationship between light and shadow, so after spending hours on the technical part I did a cautious deep dive into color theory. I think I just wanted to learn how to see and use both my eyes and imagination better.

I really struggled with storytelling though, so I tried to come up with different themes not necessarily when I took the images, but rather when I selected them for a carousel let’s say. Obviously, not all images have to tell a story, so I was conscious of separating those that don’t have one from the ones that do have it to build up a bit more cohesive body of work. It was around November 2021 when I started to get the results, I was quite happy with. To my surprise I was absolutely okay with not having a single useful image coming back from a walk, because I discovered places I’ve never been before, coffee shops I’ve never had a drink at and sometimes people I’ve never talked to. The walks themselves always felt refreshing and carried a little bit of that novelty I mentioned previously.

I was getting more and more comfortable with being around people, in fact I started to take pictures of them from a distance, but I got closer and closer as I built up some confidence. I spent at least a few hours every other weekend in March and early April, and it was around May when I looked back at my then two-year old images and really noticed a difference. However, the sheer excitement and the habit of taking images everywhere in London kept me going anyway. One thing did change though, and it was a huge one for me: I was proud of my work, and more importantly the progress I’ve made through the years.

Photographing the famous Brick Lane area at Shoreditch was an absolute blast and it was the very first collection of images I loved to look at. I was not worried of getting close to people at all, I spent a lot of time looking at murals and reading all the messages baked into them. Everything was raw and colorful at the same time and the crowd was genuinely interesting. The weather was getting warmer and warmer, so when I took a week off in the second half of August I just couldn’t wait to go back to Brighton and try my luck again, but this time with a completely different mindset.

It was probably my favorite day so far this year. I was no longer the person who was trying to avoid being around people. I lost some weight, gained a little bit of strength and ate much healthier compared to the beginning of the pandemic. After almost a decade I started to spend quite some time with finding new clothes I enjoyed wearing and added a fifteen-minute walk to my also new morning routine. This was the new me who arrived at London Bridge Station on a sunny Friday morning. After I got to Brighton, I was just walking around and literally observing all the different streets and alleys. I even started a conversation with a few locals, a Polish waiter, a British barista who has recently moved back from Australia and happened to be a photographer on the side as well.

When I showed up at Park Cameras last July, I couldn’t imagine that one day I’ll have enough images I’m proud of and happy to share with the public, though if you follow me on Instagram, you should’ve seen all of them at some point. I wanted a separate place where I have way more control of how I curate and show my work, so I ended up building a completely new website a few weeks after I came back from Brighton. I only shared the news with my inner circle and a selected group of people, but their reaction really surprised me. Of course, it’s hard to judge your own work, especially because you know everything about it and saw it much more than anyone else.

They didn’t know, but I went one step further already and selected an even smaller group of images that I would print on a good quality paper since I’ve never seen any of my images as a tangible thing before. I brought the A3 prints with me down to my local coffee shop since the guys were already excited because of my website and I promised they’ll be the first to see the physical prints. It was fascinating to watch their reactions and one of the baristas, a Hungarian lady already told me that she wants to buy one of the two images of a beautiful 1965 Mustang I captured at Notting Hill. She asked me about the price, but because I didn’t expect anyone to actually pay for any of my prints, I told her that once she’s back from her holidays I’ll have a store which means by that time I will probably have figured out the price already. She’ll come back tomorrow and actually my store went live earlier today!

Yet, my goal right now is mainly to further improve my skills and explore more places within as well as outside of the UK. Over time it would be great if I could narrow down the type of images I enjoy working on the most, because my portfolio is clearly all over the place. That’s absolutely fine though, everyone has to start somewhere, right? There are loads of segments I really want to step my toes into and experiment with, we’ll see what the future holds. For now, I’m happy that I didn’t give up in the end and recognized both the value and the importance of photography in my life.

Thank you for reading.

You can find out more about my work at patrikhorvath.com.