As we cross over from 2024 into 2025, I wanted to reflect on a personal goal for my photography journey in the last year.

Ever watch a movie or play a video game where the protagonist starts fully powered? They’ve got exceptional skills, unbeatable tools, and an aura of invincibility. But then, in a twist, they’re de-powered, stripped of their abilities, forced to start over. On their journey to regain what they’ve lost, they often discover something deeper about themselves.

That’s exactly how my photography journey felt. I started out chasing perfection, armed with high-end full-frame cameras and an arsenal of lenses. I was the hero with all the tools, determined to conquer every landscape, street scene and create those “epic hero shots.”

But somewhere along the way, I lost the plot. I wasn’t growing as a photographer. Instead, I was weighed down by my own expectations. Missing a planned shot due to bad weather or a change in plans left me frustrated, questioning why I loved photography in the first place. What I needed was to strip everything back, to de-power myself, and go on a journey to rediscover the joy that started it all.

The Power of a Small Camera

The turning point came when I decided to introduce an everyday carry camera into my life. A small APS-C camera with a compact lens, like a 35mm or 50mm equivalent, became my new companion. This camera was lightweight, compact, and easy to carry everywhere. Suddenly, I wasn’t burdened by a heavy backpack full of gear or the pressure to execute perfectly planned shots.

This little camera was liberating. Its simplicity forced me to stop obsessing over technical perfection and instead focus on capturing the mundane and improving my composition skills. It was always with me, ready to shoot the world as I saw it, or how I interpreted it in the moment.

Rediscovery

With a smaller, simpler setup, my perspective shifted. Everyday routines, like commuting, grabbing a coffee, or taking a casual walk, became opportunities for creativity. I started noticing details I’d overlooked before: the way sunlight spilled through a window, the patterns of shadows on the ground. I’ve also been able to incorporate photography to my morning runs, which has allowed me to return to compositions with better conditions or light.

These weren’t the grand, dramatic scenes I used to chase. They were quieter, more intimate moments, mundane if you will. Yet, they were the moments that reminded me why I fell in love with photography in the first place.

Why Less is More

Ironically, downsizing my gear made me a better photographer. Without the distraction of multiple lenses or the pressure of perfect execution, I was free to experiment. I wasn’t worried about whether my setup was "good enough." I was simply focused on capturing what was in front of me.

The best part? The pressure to create the “perfect” shot disappeared. With my compact camera always on hand, I could practice anytime and anywhere. And because I was shooting more often, I was learning and growing faster than ever before. By simplifying my gear, I let go of the relentless chase for epic hero shots. I stopped planning trips around specific photos and obsessively checking weather apps. Instead, I embraced spontaneity, embracing the moment and allowing the experience to surprise me.

Photography became fun again. it was about enjoying the process. And isn’t that the point?

My Story

An interesting byproduct of downsizing my gear was something I never saw coming. My photos started to feel more personal, like they were truly mine. Let me be clear, I’m not knocking the value of chasing those epic hero shots with jaw-dropping landscapes and perfect conditions. Those images are still rewarding and have their place. But something was missing from them. They felt distant, almost impersonal, as if I was trying to create what I thought photography should be rather than what it could be for me.

My photography started feeling more like a visual diary, a collection of moments that reflected my life as it happened, rather than an idealised version of it. The imperfect, the unplanned, they all became part of the story I was telling with my photos. Further proving to myself, you don’t need the best gear or go to the most epic locations to get a good shot.

Final Thoughts

Sometimes, less really is more, no matter how cliché it may sound. Downsizing my gear didn’t mean sacrificing quality; it meant shifting my mindset. By trading the weight of expectation for the freedom of simplicity, I fell back in love with photography. I wasn’t using a full-frame camera anymore, yet I was creating more impactful photos.

That crack between image quality and a quality image began to look like a giant chasm. It’s a vortex that often pulls photographers in, convincing them that better gear is the key to better photos. But I went the other way. My photography didn’t suffer because I was using a “lesser” camera. If anything, it thrived. This shift wasn’t about the gear; it was a mental reframe.

If you’re feeling stuck, uninspired or overwhelmed, consider stripping things back. Grab a small camera, pack light, and head out without a plan. Those quiet, in-between moments, the ones you’ve been overlooking might surprise you. And in capturing them, you might just discover something new about yourself.