Visual Exercises for Photographers: What Works for Me

“Photograph not only what you see but also what you feel.” — Minor White

Over the years, I’ve picked up a few lessons that have quietly shaped the way I see. They’re not rules, more like habits that stuck — simple ways of keeping my eye and my way of seeing sharp. They might be useful to others too, but I share them simply as things that help me.

Early on in my career, my first Picture Editor, Nick, gave me a piece of advice that I apply to this day. He insisted I come back from every assignment with six very different photographs. Not four or five - SIX (back when we were shooting rolls of 36 frames) On one occasion I returned with only five and I was sent straight back out to find that last image. It was the first and last time I returned to the paper without the required number.

Sketchbook images - all taken on iphone

It wasn’t about the number, of course. The exercise forced me to think more deeply - to approach the same subject in six distinct ways, to avoid repetition, to work harder at seeing rather than just looking. It was a simple but powerful way to train the eye, and I still use it to this day. Often I’ll do this with my phone, which I think of as my sketchbook. I always have it with me, and although those images rarely become finished work, they help me stay visually aware and curious.

The Familiar as a Challenge

Most mornings I walk my dogs through the same stretch of woodland behind my home. It’s a place I know well, which makes it both comforting and difficult. The more familiar a place becomes, the harder it is to find something new in it. That’s precisely why I keep photographing it. Each time I try to see it differently: a shift in light, a change in lens, or a new perspective. Sometimes I climb higher or crouch low to the ground. Other days I experiment -slow shutter, deliberate blur, or shooting into the light. These are quiet exercises, but they keep my seeing instinct alive. I rarely use the pictures for anything - they exist purely as practice.

A Visual Language

Photography to me is like learning a language — a visual one, separate from the written word. And like any language, it needs regular practice to stay fluent. These small daily exercises are how I do that. They’re not about making something to show; they’re about staying engaged with seeing.

Daily Exercises

While none of these are rules — they’re habits that have worked for me over the years:

The Six Picture Habit: Choose any one subject and make six distinctly different photographs. Change your angle, distance, framing, or light. -

Close–Mid–Wide: Take one close-up, one mid-range, and one wide shot. Then repeat each in both portrait and landscape orientation.

Change Your View: Don’t always photograph from eye level — get higher or lower and see what changes.

Revisit the Familiar: Photograph a familiar subject repeatedly. The challenge is to find new ways of seeing it.

Work Within Limits: Use only one lens, or one focal length for a day. Restrictions often spark creativity.

The Five-Minute Subject: Stop where you are and make photographs for five minutes without moving. It’s surprising how much more you begin to notice.

Looking Harder

I often think the real difference between looking and seeing lies in intent. Looking is passive, it’s what we all do as we move through the world. Seeing, though, is something else entirely. It’s active, deliberate, and questioning. It means slowing down, deciding what your subject actually is - which isn’t always obvious - and then exploring how best to express it.

For me, this begins with the frame. I spend as much time thinking about where the edges sit as I do about what fills the centre. The act of seeing involves paying close attention to everything within those boundaries — not just the subject itself but how light, line, and form interact across the frame.

Really seeing can also mean anticipating. It’s both imaginative and observational - visualising what might happen next based on experience or intuition. It’s noticing how a cloud might move into the right position, how a figure might step into a pool of light, how the balance of the scene might shift in a few seconds’ time.

This kind of seeing isn’t mechanical; it’s mindful. It asks us to stay open, to look longer, to think ahead, and to understand that the photograph begins long before we press the shutter.

So when I talk about 'looking harder' I mean that quiet process of awareness. A decision to engage fully with what’s in front of you, to pay attention to the edges, to the light, and to the small changes that turn observation into understanding.

These small routines and ways of seeing help me stay connected to that. They remind me that photography isn’t only about recording what’s there, but about noticing what might otherwise go unseen and to work hard to discover new ways to represent the familiar.