Howzit!

I was editing my latest video this week—the one about why some photos just feel magical—and it got me thinking about something that's been bothering me for years.

You know that moment when you're looking through your old photos, and you come across one that's technically perfect? Sharp focus, proper exposure, textbook composition. But as you stare at it, you feel... nothing.

It's fine. Maybe even good. But it could have been taken by anyone, anywhere. There's no soul to it, no story, no reason for its existence beyond the fact that you pressed the shutter button.
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I had this exact experience the other day. Found an image I'd taken a few years back—technically spot on, following all the rules I'd learned. But it was lifeless.

I had the map, but I was missing the compass.
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See, we spend so much time learning the technical side of photography. We understand exposure, composition, the rule of thirds. We have the map—all those guidelines that tell us how to take a technically competent photograph.

But here's what I've noticed: having the map isn't the same as knowing where you're going.

Think about photographers like Olga Karlovac, whose work I featured in the video. Her images aren't sharp in the traditional sense. They're ethereal, like fragments of memory. When you look at her photographs, they feel like something you might remember from years ago—there, but hard to grasp.
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What she's doing is showing us not what she sees, but how she's feeling. And here's the beautiful part: she's not making us feel a certain way about these photographs. She's leaving space for our own interpretation.

Or consider David Goldblatt's work in the South African mines. Those images are blurry, grainy, out of focus. But they tell you about the terrible working conditions in a way that's far more visceral than any technically perfect photograph could.

The grain, the blur, the motion—it all serves the story.
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This is what I mean when I talk about that unquantifiable "it" that great photographs have. It's not something we can put our finger on. It's more of a feeling, a vibe. And I know I've been accused of being a bit too committed to this idea without adequately explaining what I'm driving at.

But here's the thing: when you start to recognise that there's space in photographs for us to discover things about ourselves, there's a freeing aspect to that. It's the next step. Once you get technically proficient, you start to pull back a little bit.

You stop asking "How do I take this photo?" and start asking "Why should I take this photo?"

That's the difference between having the map and having the compass.

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How many times have you stood with your camera, knowing exactly how to take a photo, but having no idea why you're taking it? How often do you scroll through your portfolio and see a collection of random images that don't really reflect who you are as a photographer?

The technical knowledge becomes a crutch. The rules become a box we can't seem to break out of. And slowly, that initial spark—the thing that drew you to photography in the first place—starts to fade.

You're not alone in this. And more importantly, you're not stuck there.

What you need isn't another technical tutorial or a new piece of gear. What you need is your compass—that sense of creative direction that helps you understand not just how to take a photograph, but why you should take it.

That's what The Photographers Compass is about. It's not another course filled with technical explanations you already know. It's a structured journey designed to help you rediscover your artistic 'why' and develop the clarity to create work that truly resonates.

This isn't about telling you that your work has to be out of focus or abstract. As I mentioned in the video, this isn't dogmatic or prescriptive. Whatever photographs you like taking, by all means take them. We're here to enjoy the act of creating an image.
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But it is about asking yourself: What if you pushed the boundaries? What if you explored ideas? What if you found your own honesty in your work?
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We touched on these ideas in the last Photographers Compass Cohort, which is what this course is based on. Look at the results; they're stunning.
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They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but words also help :D

"What a fantastic course! Much of what others focus on is about technicalities and 'how,' but very little is about 'why' and finding inspiration. This course fills that gap. It will make you think—and help you enjoy it again." — M. Ramsey

"This course has completely changed how I see photography. It helped me rediscover the emotion and intent that had been missing. Best thing I've done in my photographic career." — M. Lois

The thing is, you already know how to take a photo. The challenge is learning why you should take it—and how to close that gap between the emotion you feel when you're behind the camera and the emotional impact of your final image.

Photography doesn't have to be sharp. It doesn't have to be clear. But it does have to be honest.

If you're ready to find your own honesty, to discover what your photographs are really trying to say, then maybe it's time to pick up your compass. The first part of this course goes live on July 16th. The private community is open now.

​Find Your Direction →​

Have a great week,

Alex

P.S. Remember: The best photographs aren't always the most technically perfect ones. They're the ones that have something to say. And finding that something? That's what the compass is for.