Silent Mornings: The Art of a Slow Start
The kettle hums. The dogs stretch and yawn. You settle into your favourite spot – maybe a sunlit corner of the couch, coffee in hand, a book nearby. The world hasn’t quite woken up yet, and that’s the beauty of it. No notifications, no emails, no infinite scrolling – just stillness.
Mornings like these aren’t just about avoiding technology; they’re about reclaiming your mental space. Before the noise of the day creeps in, before your mind is hijacked by high-speed visuals and dopamine hits, you get to be present. And in that presence, creativity thrives.
A Ritual of Nothingness
This is the opposite of productivity culture. There’s no rush to tick off tasks. Instead, it’s an hour of nothingness – except it isn’t nothing. It’s a time to absorb, reflect, and let your thoughts wander without expectation. Maybe you flip through a photography book, not to analyse composition but to simply experience the images. Perhaps you scribble ideas into a Field Notes notebook, letting thoughts flow before they’re shaped into something real.
Even this blog series began on the pages of a Field Notes notebook, during one of those quiet mornings when ideas arrived without being forced.
A Few Good Books to Start With
- The Creative Act by Rick Rubin – A reminder that creativity is a practice, not a gift.
- Friend of Mine by Matt Day – A photographic journey that feels like a personal conversation.
- Mood/Mode by Anton Corbijn – A deep dive into the atmosphere and aesthetic of portrait photography.
These books, and many like them, serve as gentle companions, guiding thoughts rather than demanding attention. This is using photography as therapy.
Finding Your Own Silent Morning
Your space doesn’t need to be perfect. It doesn’t need to be a beautifully arranged reading nook with soft light streaming through a vintage windowpane. It just needs to be yours. A chair on the porch, a quiet cafe corner, even the driver’s seat of your car before heading into work. The goal isn’t to replicate someone else’s ritual—it’s to find a rhythm that lets your mind breathe.
What happens when you do this regularly? You start your day with clarity. Your creative thoughts aren’t competing with social media noise. You engage with the world on your terms, rather than reacting to it. And when you pick up your camera, you’re more attuned to the subtle details of light and shadow, the way morning fog settles into valleys, the way golden-hour light transforms a familiar street.
The Takeaway
Try it. Tomorrow morning, give yourself an hour. No phone. No screens. Just a book, a journal, or a moment to sit and listen to the world waking up. See how it shapes your creativity, your mindset, and your photography.
How Peter McKinnon Uses Note Books
Tune in next week for Photography as Therapy, Part 2: The Joy of Taking Fewer Photos—a guide to slowing down, being intentional, and finding meaning in every frame you make.
(P.S. If you’re looking to explore mindfulness through photography, our classes at Loop Art & Photo Space are a great place to start!)
