The Art of Noticing starts with a search. A search for the perfect gutter to jump, the ultimate rail to slide, or a stretch of pavement that whispers possibility. BMX wasn’t just about bikes for me; it was a way of seeing the world differently. A curb became a launchpad. A wall was a canvas for motion. The mundane transformed into an endless adventure.
We’d ride for hours, faces glued to the car window, scanning for hidden treasures. Skateparks were thrilling, but really, anything could be rideable—or at least worthy of coasting around. That’s the beauty of BMX: it teaches you the Art of Noticing.
Then came the injury. The twist of fate that turned my world upside down. I couldn’t ride, couldn’t chase that thrill. It felt like the end of something big. But sometimes, when one door slams shut, another creaks open. That’s when I picked up a camera. At first, it was just a way to fill the void, to stay connected to the search. But soon, it became something much more.
The same curiosity that drove me to leap off curbs now led me to frame the perfect shot. The chipped paint on an old building, the glint of sunlight on a rainy street, the way a shadow dances across a wall—it all held potential. Photography became my new adventure, a way to see the extraordinary in the ordinary.
And here’s the thing: the shift from wheels to a lens felt natural. Both are about movement, about storytelling. Where I once soared over gaps, now I lingered, observing. Where I launched into action, now I waited, watching for just the right moment. But the core remained: it was the thrill of the search that kept me going.
Maybe you’ve felt it too—that drive to notice, to create, to make something meaningful out of what others might overlook. Life is full of cracks in the pavement, wrinkles in faces, light filtering through dusty windows. What if you documented them? What if those fleeting moments became something lasting, something beautiful?
For me, photography isn’t just a hobby; it’s a way of seeing. It’s a reminder that hardship can spark creativity. That injury, the one that felt like the end, turned out to be the beginning of a journey I never expected. Negatives, after all, can become positives. It’s true in photography—and in life.
Now, I don’t go anywhere without my camera. Every trip is an opportunity, every street a story waiting to unfold. The thrill of noticing is as strong as ever. And while I still miss my BMX, I carry its lessons with me every time I frame a shot.
Here’s my challenge to you: pick up your camera, or your phone, or whatever you have. Go out into the world—or just stay in your own backyard. Look with fresh eyes. Notice the details, the light, the textures. Document what you see, not because it’s perfect, but because it’s yours. Every moment, every scene, has its own beauty if you’re willing to find it.
So start the search. The magic is out there—hidden in plain sight—and it’s waiting for you.
Want more?
These words, guided here by Loop owner, Steve, were typed in hopes that you’ll find inspiration. That you’ll no longer leave the house without first grabbing your camera. That you’ll pay close attention to the world around you, around all of us. It’s wonderful.
But often, we get held up by how to make those images and most importantly, how to add feeling into our image. Well, in our beginner photography course, we touch on just that. Using your cameras manual mode, we help you find your creative voice and bring it to life.
Join us in the everyday search for stories in the mundane.
