Howzit to all 65 new readers who joined us this week—awesome to have you here!
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I was freeing up space on my iPhone the other day when something struck me. My phone said I had 8,247 photos from the past year. Eight thousand, two hundred and forty-seven moments I thought were worth preserving.

Then I reviewed what I'd actually shared—in newsletters, on the TPE Tribe, and in videos. Maybe twenty thirty odd.

What happened with the rest? What lives in that massive gap between what we capture and what we choose to share?

I think about this a lot, actually. There's this whole secret archive of photography that exists on our memory cards and hard drives—images that never see daylight, never become part of our "portfolio." But maybe they're the most honest record of who we are as photographers.

The Main Frame:

I'll go first, because I think we're all guilty of this.

Here are some photos from this clean-up that I loved at the time, but have never shared.
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Isn't that funny? Even now, I'm trying to find photos that are 'good'

Looking back through those images, I'm surprised how many I like in retrospect, but at the time, I skimmed over them.

I wonder if that comes from the fact that sharing photography has become so closely tied to performance. We're not just sharing images anymore—we're building portfolios, growing audiences, proving our worth as photographers.

It feels like we've created these invisible boxes for ourselves:

"This isn't sharp enough." "This doesn't match my aesthetic." "This is too personal." "Real photographers wouldn't post this."

But what if those boxes are protecting us from something valuable? What if the photography we don't share is precisely what makes us human?

I think about the images sitting in that folder marked 'iPhone dump'. The ones that made me feel something but didn't make the cut. Often, they're the photographs where I was asking questions instead of showing answers, where I was exploring instead of executing.
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Inspiring Me This Week:

Tony Ray-Jones​
​https://britishphotography.org/artists/66-tony-ray-jones/biography/​

I forget when I first saw his photography, but the quirkiness of his photos is something that sticks with me. Despite his very short career - he passed away when he was 31 - there's a great deal he can teach us.
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Not least because he went to America and kept a journal about his conversations with the up-and-coming greats of street photography
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I love his images, I hope you do too
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I also guarantee that if you visit Britain during the summer, you get a shot like the last one :D

Over to You:

I want to challenge you this week gently—and myself, honestly.

Next time you're about to close your camera roll without sharing anything, pause for a moment. Ask yourself: "Am I protecting this image, or am I protecting my ego?"

Sometimes the answer might be both, and that's okay too.

But maybe, just maybe, there's an image in there that deserves to see daylight. Not because it's perfect, but because it's honest. Not because it fits your brand, but because it fits your heart.

What would happen if you shared one photograph this week that you usually wouldn't? One that shows your process instead of just your results? One that asks a question instead of providing an answer?

I wonder what we'd discover about ourselves.

Inside the Tribe:

We had a fascinating discussion on Wednesday, where we explored the idea of photography as a process versus a purpose. As usual, the Tribe Members brought a range of views to the chat
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That's all for this week. Maybe the photography we don't share is where our most authentic voice lives.

Keep seeing,

Alex

P.S. For those of you who contributed to the Visual Library, it is now live, and you can get your copy here​