Who Am I To Do This?
Printing other people’s work made me step out of my own way.

“It’s just a border. Why can’t I figure it out.”
I’m printing photos. Not just any photos, but the work of 29 photographers. This is not the same as printing my own work, which I’ve done for the last couple of years. I’ve often been so bored with the technical process that I’ve resorted to “that’ll do.” Now, “that’ll do” won’t cut it.
Let me take you back a little, to add some colour to where things are now. I am coming up on my third anniversary of owning a camera. Before that, my last one was a Canon EOS something-or-other about fifteen years ago. I bought that camera because I was going to a Formula One race and wanted better photos than my Samsung Galaxy 4 could take. Spoiler. They weren’t better. Photographer, not the tools.
In the last three years, I’ve taken courses with ICP, gone on photo walks with photographers I admire, consumed a stupid number of photobooks, owned more cameras than is sensible, and taken well over 50,000 photos. 20,000 this year alone. Practice made me a better photographer. Not the gear. Not any talent. Just practice, and the inspiration I’ve found from people I’ve met along the way.
My wife and I created a gallery a couple of months ago. Ankydyn Gallery. It’s mostly online for now until we find a physical space. We have our first in-person show at Miami Art Week this December. A hotel room will be converted into a gallery to showcase the work of 16 multidisciplinary artists and 29 photographers. 45 artists in our first independent show. Which is a wild sentence to write.
For the photographers, I reached out to people who have meant a lot to me over the last few years. People who shared some of that journey. People who encouraged my work. People whose work showed me what a world without competition feels like. A world full of people who are simply driven by their passion. It has been humbling that almost everyone I asked said yes.

Now I’m standing over my printer, battling the technical quirks I had zero patience for in the past. The weight of expectation feels higher. None of these photographers will be in Miami to see their printed work in person. That matters to me. I want their experience to be as good as I can make it from afar. I’ve dreaded this moment for weeks. I bought backup ink. I have high quality paper, an excellent printer. The equivalent of buying all the gym gear. Now I have no more excuses not to go to the gym.
Between my mate ChatGPT and me, we worked through settings, test prints, and colour management. And yes, I figured out the border issues. And then I held a print from Hana Adams in my hands and had a strangely intimate feeling. The paper felt heavier than any I’d held before.
“I’m printing someone else’s work. I’m holding someone else’s work.”
And it is stunning.
I’ve printed so many of my own images. I often let the process overshadow the fact that I was printing for a show or a sale. Now I’m holding someone else’s work and, because I’ve forced myself to understand the technical side properly, I can finally see the image for what it is. Remarkable. And it will be in our show.
I needed this. I needed to step out of my own way. My insecurities about my own work have pushed me into “that’ll do” far too often. It’s a genuine honour to print these photographs. The printer has never produced a better result, and I’m proud that Ankydyn Gallery will represent them in December.
If you are in Miami, come by and see the work. And my printing skills.
Head over to ankydyn.com to see all artists (including the photographers) involved in Miami Art Week.




Thank you, Paul. We know our work is in the best hands! 🥹