In December 2024 I showed my work in my first art show, here's a few thoughts on that experience.

OK, so first up, it wasn't quite the first time my work had been seen in public: through the camera club I'm a member of various images have appeared in public. But this was the first time I'd put a group of my picture on show, and on sale, as "me".

A show is idea I've been considering for a while, wanting to go beyond showing to a few friends and family. But why? I've had quite a lot of compliments about my pictures, which makes me think that it's not just me that enjoys them. So, yes, there's some flattering myself involved! Also, without wanting to pivot careers or kill the pleasure in making pictures, I do like the idea of making this into more of a side project. Can I make this a bit more self-funding? Can I use my art as a way to engage with the wider creative community? I like people, like talking to people, enjoy going to galleries, local open houses and craft markets. Maybe I would also enjoy the other side of the experience? Certainly I've heard various other photographers and artists speak positively about their experiences showing their pictures.

By the time I'd actually got from idea to learning about how to being ready to sign up for any markets the deadline for the pre-Christmas craft fairs had passed. Then I saw an opening for a part in a larger show as part of the December Brighton Artists Open Houses with Chimera House Studios. After a few emails back and forth, and a small fee, I'd signed up for a panel of wall for a weekend. I had a little over 1 metre by 2 metres of space: not overwhelming but enough to show something off. I also expressed interest in a second weekend, which in time got added to the diary.

As the idea was now "real" I engaged I dived into some preparation:

First, I created a company. It seems helpful to keep the finances of this, and me, separate. Also, a separate legal entity might at some point be handy if I ever get commisions. I've started a company before, so although it's bureaucratic it wasn't too daunting.

I started choosing potential images. And found 30. Which is too many. That was, obviously, left until later to resolve.

I did some test printing. The idea that someone might buy a print, for money, makes me consider quality differently. In particular, the baryta paper I had been using for everything was showing skid marks from the printer rollers. After some experimenting, I found a matte paper that wasn't gratuitously textured and I could get a nice look from - albeit with a few final layers for contrast, levels and curves. In the end I really like the look of this paper.

I weighed up the options for presentation:

• A print on paper alone, which is cheapest and simplest, and lets someone pick their own framing. But looks least finished on display on a wall.
• Framed, which involves the most up-front expense and work, and my choice might not match someone's choice for their home and put people off.
• Mounted, which looks a bit more polished than just a print on the wall, with limited cost and complexity. Which is what I'm going with, for now at least.

In the past I've taken pictures to a local shop to mount, as my need was super low volume. But, for mounting maybe 20 pictures that was going to add to the cost more than taking the plunge and buying a mount cutter and my own boards would. So, with a little bit of practice, and a few experiments with table height and ergonomics, I mounted my own pictures. I also decided to sign and number the pictures, on the back as these aren't a high volume affair.

Talking to friends who had taken part in open houses before, having cards to sell was clearly a popular and more accessible choice. My pictures don't really make obvious Christmas / Birthday cards, but cards have plenty of other uses. So as well as prints, I made a slightly different selection of pictures that would work as cards.

To all this, I added some business cards as a way to provide contact details; and some clear compostible bags as a way to protect the pictures and cards in transit.

Then a couple of weeks ahead of the show, Paul (the owner of the space) had an open evening so we could see the space and meet. It was good to meet him, and later his partner, and some of the other artists with sections of wall. Everyone was friendly, and I wasn't the only inexperienced one in the room!

The open house, with someone else "in charge", meant that a lot of work for publicity was taken care of - though I tried to play my part, sharing on Instagram and with friends. On the day it also meant that the room always had someone there, so I was able to come in during the afternoon rather than being committed all-day. Hanging was on the Friday evening after work, then Saturday and Sunday were the shows. It was good to finally see everyone's art up together - quite a mix, that I felt worked well together without anyone really being "in competition".

The hanging was more of a challenge, as there was a metal "grid wall" up, which would be perfect for framed pictures but didn't have an obvious way to present my mounted prints without damage. For cards there were some standard holders I could, and did, use. For prints I concocted a set-up with a wooden channel and clear elastic thread to stop the prints falling back. This was a bit fiddly, but worked well enough.

I also settled on two panels of images, giving me a variety over the two weekends, with only a couple of what I guessed would be my most popular images in both. In each case, I tried to include several that had a local (South Downs at least, if not Brighton) connection. The space allowed for five rows, each with either two landscape format pictures; one print and some cards; or three square format pictures. This gave 10 images and two card holders the first weekend; and 9 images and three card holders the second. I had an entertaining evening working out layouts on the living room floor, finding a balance of colour, theme and structure in and between the rows while also creating variety and trying to place the strongest images at eye height, the simplest where they would be furthest from eye line, and details to reward those that crouched down for a closer look at the bottom rows.

Now, it was time for the show!

The first weekend we had a steady flow of visitors, inclduing a lot of friends and family of the artists. It was fun to talk to people, and be a part of it. The space was also a real talking point, with a maximalist setting for videos downstairs. My kids came to the private show on Saturday evening and the weekend felt like a good thing to have done. Commercially, I sold a modest number of cards and one print, covering the cost of hiring the wall space and the materials for what I had sold. I also went to a couple of other open houses, enjoyed their work and shook a famous hand.

Conversations that weekend tended towards "how" rather than "what is it" or "why did you do this". This led me to add a brief statement about the overall idea to the layout for the second weekend. To keep it quick to read and not tiny lettering I left out the "printed on 230gsm paper" stuff, and kept it to broad ideas and a local connection. There's a more detailed version to be written sometime, possibly for each piece. Though I do like that in part people can fill in their own thoughts, and that there's space left for an in-person conversation.

The second weekend storm Darragh hit the UK. The news was full of weather warnings, and it was indeed wet and windy though the worst was a long way from Brighton. This rather put people off visiting, so it was much quieter. I still sold some cards, but no prints. Which highlighted that December is a tricky month to be doing this kind of thing: it's much more likely that the weather will put visitors off, I was competing with Christmas shopping for attention, and neither I nor the venue nor the idea of December open houses was so well established that we had a natural draw of people.

That was a slightly down-beat ending to the show, but overall I'd say the experience was positive: - I enjoyed talking to people about my pictures, and to other artists about theirs. I would absolutely do a shared-space show again. - I enjoyed Chimera House in particular. The street isn't the fanciest in Brighton, but the space and the people were lovely. I'd go back there again. - The value of an artists statement to add to the conversation was something I hadn't really appreciated before. - The local connection in my work isn't Brighton. There's a South Downs relevance in quite a lot, but none are so literal as to give the "I live here" connection. - I've spent a bit setting up, mostly in materials. The income here covered my costs, but I'll need to sell a bit more to be breaking even overall. But covering my costs, as a first experience, doesn't seem like such a bad place to be.

The final day of my tour in Scotland dawned grey and a bit wet. Some rain had been forecast, so this wasn't a compelte surprise. My camping spot was a bit in with the trees, and some compromise in the pegging out had led to a small touch of inner and flysheet, but nothing a cloth couldn't resolve. My small piece of old karrimat for kneeling / standing to get in and out came in handy, as did some slip on, lightweight, Vibrobarefoot shoes.

The morning view as I brewed coffee, and packed up, was a bit more muted than the sunshine yesterday - but still beautiful.

The day started with a hill in the wilds, and with the forecast showing rain getting heavier in the afternoon, I was keen to get going. I could find somewhere to eat at Fort William before my 1920 train boarding. First was some more estate gravel, under the railway line and down to Loch Treig.

The path was getting wetter, and harder to cycle. But I wasn't alone - a helicopter was circling above for a while, I met two people along this stretch, and saw others in a boat. One person was looking for a lost knife, the other warned I'd be doing some pushing.

Across a couple of bridges and past a deserted house, with a little picking through the marsh. Spean Bridge 12 miles, the sign said.

The path hugged the lochside a bit closely for a short stretch, and so this definately needed pushing! The sense of adventure was starting to develop, for what was planned as a short and easy day.

Then the route left the river below and climbed a bit, getting narrow, steep and harder to ride. Then, into a rocky gap, which at first I ignored as it didn't look like the route. The panniers were coming off now, to get the bike through the tricker sections of carrying.

The route was marked as "path" on my plan, which can mean a lot of things. But as I left the rocky gap the view ahead didn't become more rideable: a mix of path, rock and marsh. At this point I started to question this plan, but resolved to try a little further with the hope that the ground would get more rideable.

It was gradually becoming apparent that the route was really a hiking route, or maybe suited to unladen mountainbikes going down the hill. I was questioning not only the plan, but my life choices in general along here. But, stubborness and the possibility of catching the train at Spean Bridge had me pushing on a little further. The rain was getting heaver, so there are fewer photos, but there was a section beside the river with red rocks; sheep; a sense of remoteness.

But it didn't get more rideable. Pushing, with or without panniers, was the main form of progress.

And then the mounting for my bar bag broke. Maybe too much camera; maybe four rivets in plastic aren't a great way to fix something that has to bounce. The rain had got heaver, and the chances of the path improving enough to get my train at Fort William were feeling slimmer.

So, I turned and hike-a-biked back to the gravel road. The bar bag on a shoulder strap distinctly un-ergonomic. My snack consumption increasing. Each leg finding its way knee deep in peat at some stage, as I reversed various stream crossings, rocky steps, path pushing, loch edges and back to the bridges - looking forward to each landmark.

I'd had quite a push, and eventually got to pedal back up the hill to the station.

The station is, obviously, unmanned. So I used to intercom to check that my train would stop, and was still expecting me: I had a reservation on the sleeper, but from Fort William. Initially, the response was that the sleeper was a separate company and he couldn't help. I pleaded lack of phone signal, and to his credit the assistant got hold of the staff at Fort William and arranged for them to expect me - calling back on the intercom 10 minutes later.

Then a final meal at the restaurant, feeling cold now, and wondering if there wasn't a better route I should have taken.

That last day shows 25km and 480m of climb in 9 hours on my record, although with the two-stage carrying I walked further than the ride distance! I turned at about 4 hours in, but the riding was uphill on the way back - and the downhill walking wasn't any faster! I can't recommend the path from Loch Treig to Spean Bridge for a touring bike ride!

The train pulled up, and two cabin crew got out. Then they pulled forward, with signal permission, to get the right carriage lined up on the short platform. The crew were quite excited by this, as it seems they don't often get to get out here! With an empty bedroom them had arranged to let me put my bike in a part of the train that would go on to London, without me having to move it at Edinburgh - which was very much appreciated. Then to the en-suite shower, feeling glad of my foresight in booking that! Dining car cheese and whisky ended my evening as we went from moorland towards towns in the dark, and then to bed.

In the morning, the sleeper arrives slightly too late to catch a pre-rush-hour train to carry on. So I had to wait, which was helped by getting a table at Sandwich Street Kitchen.

Then on to home, and hanging things up to dry.

A great four days of cycling, a mix of distance (a 100km touring day), challenging hills, amazing views, trees, birds, relaxation and adventure. 691 photos taken, between phone and camera. I felt energised and inspired.

There's also a sense of unfinished business: Knobblier tyres and lighter bags might make Corrieyairack a more attractive prospect - it certainly sounds worth it from eveyone I know that's ridden it. I'd also happily go back with walking boots and a rucksack - there's some nice looking hiking in the countryside I'd ridden through.

Day three. A conversation the night before with some other riders, and my experience over Lairig Ghallabhaich, had me thinking that 150km including Corrieyairack Pass would be a stretch. I was also taken with the remote beauty of this spot, and a sunny morning after the clouds of yesterday did nothing to take away from this.

A little route exploring suggested that I could easily shorten my orginal plan-B to a 60km in 7 hours route to Fort William, which would be a day's ride to catch my train even if 7 hours was optimistic. The hostel warden confirmed that I could camp at the hostel that night. So my day three was set: a gentle day, making photos and enjoying the space. The komoot record of it is here.

The Corrour estate has an interesting history, following the path of much of the highlands. Presently it is being managed in a more sensitive way, with an old arbouretum and growing natural planting, maintaining the peat bogs, a little hydro-electric power and the access constraints of hills and moorland all around.

The only roads in the area are estate gravel tracks, which allow good progress on my gravel bike, but aren't open to general access. There was a little ice on the puddles, but not enough to make riding tricky. This means they are quiet. It also means that places like the hostel have little means to bring meals in or take rubbish out - expecting visitors to be that bit more self-sufficient.

The wooded area around the Loch was a delight, with various species of tree, moss, lichens and landscaping coming together to make a varied and peaceful view - in the sun quite a contrast to the moorland drama of yesterday.

I followed the first part of what would have been my original plan, with another taste of the wide open view, wide glacial valleys and few signs of habitation beyond the track.

I found some shelter for lunch, the wind being cool when I stopped. This also provided time to explore details as well as big views.

Then, before going too far, I turned and rode back along the other side of the loch. Here I found flowers, sand beaches, and more views of the wooded lochside.

So, 29km in 5 hours - fully relaxing and immersed in the beauty of this place.

Then, setting up the tent, with limited space without blocking other guests way and around the trees, but a beautiful spot.

Then off for a more relaxed supper at Corrour Station House, taking in the "Trainspotting Bridge". (The bridge has been renewed due to all the visitors wearing it out.) The isolation of the station quite clear here. The platform has space for maybe two carriages, and the sign for Fort William giving reassurance for tomorrow in classic A-road / Scottish Rights of Way colours.

And finally, a beautiful sunset, with Ben Nevis part of the horizon, cuckoos calling, geese squabbling and the light developing on the loch, landscape and clouds.

My camera swapped to JPEG mode at some point, so the astro-photos could be better, but I put as much into enjoying the light and the view as the photos.

I slept well, despite it being cold and a little rain in the night.

Today was the day with most climb on my plan, heading into somewhere more remote, and with few plan B options, other than stopping early to camp. The destination was Loch Ossian Youth hostel - a chance for a wash, and with the Corrour Station House Cafe booked for 7pm (with the kitchen closing at 7:30) this gave me an incentive to get there! Sure enough it turned into quite a long day, nearly 11 hours to cover 87km and 1600m of climb. The komoot tour is here, if you're interested.

It had rained a little in the night, but I had slept well, and woke to a quiet misty morning over the loch.

Breakfast was Sosmix sausages, mushroom and a roll, with coffee. I had taken a basic but comfortable approach to packing, with not many cafes or shops on the route and a desire not to run out of energy. Cooking also gave me time to start packing and take some more photos.

After breakfast I filtered more water from the stream, and collected some rubbish for the bin. Loch Earn is a lovely spot, but does seem to attract the kind of camper that brings bottles to break. In any case, I tried to leave the place cleaner than I found it.

After sorting myself out, I was on the road by 8am. Past a barking van dog, and a few others just emerging, reversing the last few km of yesterday's ride. Then a 200m climb back onto the railway path, which was fairly steep to start with and then steady up to Glen Ogle viaduct.

All that climbing was naturally rewarded with a descent, into woodland approaching Killin, that had me wanting to stop and take photos rather than take full benefit of gravity. There was frost on the ground, with hints of mist, all now evaporating, dancing in the barely-a-breeze air and creating a rainbow.

Then on to Killin, seeing a Red Squirrel along the way. I took my one wrong-turn detour of the trip here, but soon got back on track. There were standing stones on my route plan, but again roads marked as private and the soon approaching climbs were weighing on my mind. The Co-Op provided a coffee and a few replacement snacks, then I was onto the A road out of town. This had traffic, but not too bad, and took me to the climb up to Ben Lawyers and Lawyers Dam. The first section of this was quite steep, and I misjudged the gear I'd need so there was a little walking, pausing to enjoy the view and an interestingly pointy fence post support.

I saw one other cyclist on the climb, who had the good sense not to come with panniers full of stuff, but gave me a wave on his way back down.

The dam was impressive, the water level quite low - presumably being hydro-electric the winter is the time of greatest demand. I chatted to a German tourist who had driven up past me, who was showing his daughter some of Scotland. He offered to take a photo of me, and this also seemed a good spot for a scenic loaded-bike photo.

Another cyclist paused to say hello at the top, and told me the road on the other side - where I was about to head - had been recently resurfaced after logging had wrecked it. Well, it was a delight - smooth, flowing turns and went on for ages! I saw several groups of cyclists and motorcyclists here.

Lunch was at the very nice Post Office Cafe at Bridge of Balgie, which had lots of people. The view was over a wide river, and if you didn't look up the feel was much more lowland than I expected.

Then onto the next climb - not as much up as the previous one, but steeper and off road along the Lairig Ghallabhaich. As I turned off I met a hiker, wearing a tweed jacket. The track was pretty rough for my not-quite-slick tyres, so I walked with him a little and chatted. He had camped out in a spot he's found quite magical, and was following a hand-drawn map with a very loose plan, enjoying the energy of the place. He also claimed to have a bike "you can sleep on", but I enjoyed his company and outlook. Eventually, he wanted to stop and do some yoga and the track had eased off enough for me to ride, so I parted company with him.

The clouds were darkening a bit now, and there was no one else about. I crossed the moor on a track that had got a bit easier, then into some woodland. Some forestry at first, then becoming obviously more ancient, with beautiful lichen. My friend from earlier had mentioned some of the last ancient woodland being on the route.

At the bottom of this track is a small collection of houses, and a firmly padlocked gate on the route. I was clearly not the first, and a friendly lady pointed me in the right direction, and offered tea if I was ever back that way.

Time was getting on, around 3:30pm, and progress had been slower than expected with quite a lot of walking on the last hill. So I put my head down and pedalled a bit harder along the road by Loch Rannoch. A bird of prey, I think a Buzzard, flew across the road ahead of me and into the woodland. Then a steady ride along the river valley towards Rannoch. I hadn't had any phone reception for a while, so attempts to let the hostel know I might be late or reassure my partner I was OK didn't work.

Finally I got to the Road to the Isles - an estate gravel road across the moor. The clouds were heaver now, and gave both rain and drama. I chatted briefly to a hiker, and then pressed on. Past a walker with three dogs that he felt he had to be quite stern with as I passed, but no other show of friendship; and a couple of other walkers and riders heading the other way - all close to the end of their days.

The track was rough in places but rideable, and was clearly used enough that there were wheel tracks across the central grass strip where previous cyclists had swapped sides to get the smoothest ride. A sense of common experience, even though I could see no other person now.

There were a few streams to cross, mostly I managed to keep my feet out stepping between rocks. Only once did my bike wheel not go where I expected, causing a balancing step. The snow top on Càrn Dearg gives you an idea of the water temperature.

Then again pressing on as 7pm approached, and the prospect of cooking for myself loomed. Finally, Loch Ossian Youth Hostel came into view - and what a wonderful view.

The warden was super friendly, checking me in and allocating a bed efficiently, and also calling the Restaurant to check I was still OK to come and reassuring me that cycling clothes would be quite OK. It was now 7:10pm.

So, without the panniers, I made an 11 minute dash up the road to the Corrour Station House. They welcomed me with beer, a generous portion of stew and WiFi.

Back at the hostel I showered, chatted to some other riders and got some sleep - although the dorm was quite hot and it took a while to drop off. I'd brought thermals to sleep in for camping, and they were poorly matched to a heated room with 6 other people. A plan C for the next day was forming, but more of that in the next post.

The TLDR for today was that it was 100km, of mostly good weather and flattering cycling. The komoot record of it is here for those that like a map. This meant plenty of photos...

Early morning Dumbarton was quiet, and I soon found my way out of town and onto a cyclepath beside the river and then through a park.

Within an hour I was into farmland and enjoying the morning sunshine.

A mix of lanes, cycle paths, a few other cyclists to say hello to, and a "please walk" bridge got me to Drymen and Old Gartmore Road.

This was a long drag up a quiet road, with a hello to a solo hiker and I was into something more open.

In just over three hours I rolled into Aberfoyle (via the guy that was so surprised by my noisy freewheel and hello that he had time to mime a heart attack). The bike hire and cafe supplied a tasty omlette for second breakfast, an espresso, and the useful advice that there was a bridge out on the trail. His recommendation to avoid the bridge was the main road, Duke's Pass, with an assurance that it'd be quiet at this time of day.

This was a 220m climb, taken steadily with only one pause for photos. Though it was quite a long pause, the trees and space making we want to take my time.

As promised, the cars were occasional and all passed with plenty of space.

Then, I was onto over an hour of forestry gravel track through Achray Forest. I was sharing the space with a few camper-vanners, but only a few. The track wove down the hill and around Loch Venachar, with a few clouds now making the light shift.

There was a hail shower at this point, but not such big stones and I decided that as they didn't make me wet that was better than rain. Callander provided a pasty for now, and some fresh pastry for the food bag. Then onto smoothly tarmaced ex-railway cycle path through woodland. This gave me a view over some ancient remains, and past some modern and empty holiday homes.

Then a little detour on rolling lanes to Balquhidder. I'd seen some standing stones referenced near Loch Voil, but the turn off on my route was marked private in an uninviting way. As it was already quite a long day, I contented myself with a very mossy tree root and a view of the Loch.

Getting closer to my stop for the night now, and back onto the cycle path. There's beavers in the next stretch of woodland. I saw two places which might of been their dams, but one had a pipe over it to let the water flow, and the other was too far away for a clear photo through the trees. So no photos. In any case, I didn't see any beaver!

Over a last viaduct, and soon heading down towards Loch Earn. There were a few hundred meters on the main road, but it was wide and not too busy, then onto a more cyclist welcoming rolling lochside road.

The wild camping in the Loch Lomond and Trossachs National Park is arranged into a few permitted areas, with limits on numbers. I had a permit for the south shore, but there's no "site" or particular place - you just have to find a nice looking spot. I went past quite a few van and beer assisted fishing and camping groups, who all felt a bit noisy for me, until I found a quiet patch of foreshore. I'd done 100km, 1300m of climb, ending up about 100m higher than I'd started - with a camping load on the bike, which was satisfying.

I got pitched, on a fairly soft and level patch - of which there were few, and got a tea and then food cooking. (Rice and lentils, followed by ginger cake, custard and banananana.) This was the only point I had rain today, but just a brief shower. Just above the road was more woodland, and the loch treated me to Sandpipers flying low, some friendly fishermen in a boat, and a pleasant sunset with a dusting of snow visible on the higher tops.

I've been wanting to go back to Scotland for a while, and found a gap in April which might work. My hopes were: some signs of spring, but maybe some snow on the tops still; not too many midges; four days of mildly adventurous cycling with some wild camping thrown in. I've long wanted to go to Corrour and Loch Ossian, and the Badger Divide route was my starting point. However the days I wanted to travel the sleeper train to Inverness was fully booked. So I gradually came up with a different plan:

• Take the sleeper to start in Dumbarton
• About 100km and a permitted wild camp by Loch Earn
• A hilly day to Loch Ossian youth hostel, with a meal booked at Corrour Station House
• Then, depending on weather and energy, either the Corrieyairack Pass and then by the canal to Fort William, or a shorter route also ending in Fort William. In either case, with a bothy / wild camp along the way.
• Take the sleeper back south, splashing out on a room with a shower.

I sleep OK on the train, so although it's a bit expensive the upside is a straightforward bike booking, with a decent place to hang the bike; a full day out rather than a day consumed by travel; and the romance of waking up somewhere new.

So, after a day at home I headed off late afternoon to London. Getting to St Pancras is easy, and a short wiggle on back streets gets me to Euston. The pub upstairs had a spare outside table with QR-code ordering, which makes eating with the bike easy. Then the train is nearly ready.

There's a bit of back and forth over which carriage my bike goes in. And then, the unannounced downside of the Fort William line: I have to get up at 3am, get my bike, and put it in a different carriage which will be joining the train at Edinburgh. This hasn't happened on previous trips, and wasn't expected. But, it can't be avoided, so on with the bike, and then me and some of the luggage head to my room. I relax, and get to bed earlier rather than later.

At 3am I wake up, and get dressed. As we arrive at Edinburgh I go to sort my bike out, but the door is locked. The cabin attendant (who is both nice and helpful) finds me, and explains the doors are already shut where the train is dividing, but gets me out onto the platform. Where two other cyclists and I wait for about half an hour for some train jibbling to happen, before we're let on to get our bikes - and the seated passengers then join us on the platform at the other end of the train.

Another bit of train eventually arrives and is attached, and then we're let back on with our bikes. I get back to bed at 4:30.

I get up again an hour later, less well rested than I'd hoped, for a bit of breakfast, and sorting my stuff out ready to arrive at Dumbarton at 6:15. The sun is rising, it looks like a nice day, and I'm looking forward to the ride.

Hello :)

A new blog. What better displacement activity is there?

My old blog hasn't been updated in a long time and is feeling a bit dated. I am curious to experiment with new software, and a slightly different way of writing. But also, I want to see how I can balance the going places with the art that my photography spans. Apologies if you come for one thing, and get another.