Twenty-five years learning to notice what everyone else walks past.

People often ask how I became a photographer. The truth is, I don't think photography is really where it started. I've always been creative. Long before I picked up a camera, I loved cross stitch, tiny stitches coming together to create something beautiful. Then came interiors, where I became fascinated by colour, balance, texture, and how the smallest details could completely change the feeling of a room.

Years later I became a wedding florist. Again, it was never just about the flowers. It was about creating something that made people feel something. The curve of a ribbon. The softness of a rose. The way colours worked together. I learned that the smallest details often made the biggest difference.

When I later became a wedding photographer, I realised something about myself. I loved photographing the details more than the people, not because the people weren't important, but because the details told their story. A bouquet chosen months in advance. A handwritten note. A pair of shoes waiting quietly in the corner. Those small moments often said more than a smile to the camera ever could.

I photographed my first wedding in 2003 and went on to shoot weddings across the country, and two in Spain. When I later bought a flower shop, I gave up wedding photography and started taking pictures for myself instead.

In 2015 I went on my first photography trip, to Santorini, and I've made at least one every year since. Vietnam, New York, Venice, India, Tuscany, and beyond, along with leading my own small groups to Venice and Valencia.

A friend once watched me photographing the streets of Santorini and laughed. 'You work fast,' she said. She was right. Years of weddings had trained my eye to recognise a photograph almost instantly. Not because I was rushing, but because I had learned to notice.

I don't think my camera sees any differently to anyone else's. I think I've simply spent a lifetime training my eyes. Whether I'm in Venice, India, New York, or a small English village, I'm still doing exactly the same thing. Looking for the details. The light. The little stories most people walk past.

Photography hasn't taught me how to see. Creativity has. The camera is simply the tool I use to share it.

If you'd like to see a place the way I do, I'd love to have you along.