I didn’t send out a newsletter last week. In fact, it was the first time in 45 weeks that I missed my self-imposed Tuesday deadline. Now, I can look at this in two ways (and I have). On the one hand, it’s incredible that I, someone who has struggled with writing since childhood—and still do—managed to keep this streak going. I can talk all day, but expressing myself in writing has never come easily. Thanks to ChatGPT, I write the whole thing and then get it to do a grammar and punctuation check each week, but what’s amazing is that I’ve managed to sit in front of this laptop 45 times, write something, and send it out to everyone who subscribed to my newsletter.
On the flip side, I could see it as a failure. I left it so last-minute that, while out to dinner with friends last Monday, I didn’t even think about writing when I got home. So, where have I been leaning? If you know me at all, you know it’s right here—in disappointment and annoyance. Let’s dive into why that is.
I never set out with a specific timeline for how long I would do this. In fact, I only started sending emails because of my ongoing dislike of social media. I didn’t feel like my voice was reaching anyone there, whereas with emails, it hits differently. I can talk about my work, explain the whys and hows, and people actually listen—more than they do on social platforms.
I never start writing with a plan or outline; it’s usually just what’s on my mind and what I feel like sharing. So, missing a week wasn’t really about not sending an email or losing a chance to share new work.
The truth is, I’ve been feeling unbelievably confused about my work—about what I create and why. A lot of reflection, including having my work critiqued by one of Australia’s best fine art photographers, has made me realise that I’ve been creating for the wrong reasons. I’ve been making work based on how it would look on someone’s wall, focusing on the literal rather than leaving space for the viewer to interpret. This worked well for my Aussie Kulture series, but with new work, I’ve been questioning it more and more. Why am I making this? Am I already thinking of the explanation before I even pick up the camera, or am I genuinely making art for the sake of art?
I find myself going through what I can only describe as the artist’s journey. We find what we love, study those who inspire us, and pull from our influences until we realise that we’re just following in their footsteps, not our own. I think this is why I started shooting color fine art prints—I found inspiration in René Magritte, Tyler Shields, and Rodney Smith’s compositions and framing. They’re all incredible artists, but I overlooked something essential: none of them are Adam Kenna. They each have one thing I am looking for (aside from success).—they create from within, true to themselves.
One thing I’m learning is that I am Adam Kenna, and discovering what that means will shape everything I create. Recently, I realised I don’t want my next series to be in color. The truth is, I adore black and white photography. Its timelessness, the way it focuses on the subject rather then, when done poorly the distraction of colour, and the beautiful range of greys in between—it all speaks to me. I started in black and white when I had my first gallery show, but since then, I’ve mainly worked in color. Now, I have a concept I want to explore in black and white, and that’s what I’m going to do.
Missing a week of writing didn’t feel great, but it’s led me to some big personal breakthroughs about what I want to achieve and why. As I continue with these newsletters over the next 45 weeks, I hope to learn more about myself, and I can’t wait to see the work I’m making—and the person I’ll become—as a result.
Here’s to finding the artist within and bringing them forward for all to see.
Finally, here are some of my favorite black and white images I’ve shot, displayed, sold, and exhibited over the years. See you all next week.
—Adam Kenna
Thank you for sharing this and your ever giving vulnerability Adam! Last Tuesday felt a bit different and I now know why (missed my morning train read).
Excited to see your next series of works being brought to life and a new glimpse of you through them.