I used to spend my days arranging pixels on a screen, crafting websites and logos with precision. It was creative work and it gave me a steady career, but it always felt like something was missing. Behind the desk, I kept returning to one question: what if I tried to capture real life instead of creating it on a screen? That curiosity led me to what has become my true calling, making large scae high end prints of wildlife guided by a passion I never expected. You can see more of that shift in focus in my collection of black and white prints, where every image has a story beyond colour.
Trading the screen for the wild
My roots are in web and graphic design. I enjoyed the structure of layouts, the discipline of grids, and the challenge of creating something visually clear from nothing. At the same time, the work was tied to screens, meetings, and client feedback. Outside my office hours I carried a camera. At first it was just a way to clear my head. I photographed nature close to home, experimenting with light and angles.
Photography slowly began to pull me in. Unlike design, there was no undo button, no moving shapes around until they fit. Instead there was waiting, watching, and reacting in the moment. I felt a different kind of creativity, one that involved being present rather than adjusting pixels. The shift started quietly but grew stronger each year.
The first trip that changed everything
The turning point came when I travelled to Africa for the first time with a camera. I had seen wildlife documentaries and photographs my whole life, but nothing prepared me for the experience of standing there in person. I remember the silence broken by the faint sound of an elephant’s footsteps, the warmth of the light at sunrise, and the tension of watching a lioness on the hunt. These were not images on a screen. They were moments that I felt deeply.
Holding a camera in those moments felt natural. I wanted to make sense of what I was seeing and share it in a way that others could feel too. That first trip set me on the path I still walk today.
Discovering black and white
At the beginning, like most photographers, I worked in colour. But after a while I realised colour often distracted me from what I wanted to show. A lion’s stare, the texture of an elephant’s skin, the spray of water around a horse’s hooves. These details came alive when I converted the image to black and white.
Black and white became more than just a style choice. It became my language. It removed the unnecessary and made each photograph about character, shape, and light. Once I committed to it, I knew I had found the way I wanted to tell my stories.
Step by step away from design
Leaving behind a secure career in design was not something that happened overnight. It took years of building confidence. I sold my first prints, entered competitions, and received encouragement from people who connected with my work. Each small step was proof that photography was not just a dream but something I could build my life around.
My design years were not wasted. They taught me how to see balance, how to work with lines, and how to create images that communicate clearly. Those skills carried over into my photography. The difference is that instead of choosing colours and fonts, I am now waiting for a look, a movement, or a shift in light.
Life as a wildlife photographer
My days now are a mix of preparation, patience, and post-processing. Much of the work takes place in the field, waiting for the right conditions and the right moment. It can mean long hours of stillness, sometimes in challenging weather. The reward is when everything aligns and a frame comes together that feels honest and alive.
Back home, I spend time selecting and preparing prints. Printing is essential to me. A photograph on a screen can be scrolled past in seconds, but a fine art print has presence. It fills a room, invites people to stop and look, and holds its place in a way digital images never can.
Horses of Salt and Wind
The next chapter in this journey is my exhibition Horses of Salt and Wind, which will open at Christine X Art Gallery in Sliema, Malta this September. The series focuses on the white horses of the Camargue in southern France. Photographing them was unlike anything I had experienced before. These horses live semi-wild in the wetlands, moving with both strength and grace. In black and white, their movements take on a timeless quality.
The exhibition is not an end point but another step. It reflects how far I have come since the days when I sat at a desk designing websites, wondering if I would ever take the leap.
Looking back
When I think about my journey, I see it as a gradual move from the safe and predictable to the uncertain but meaningful. Web and graphic design gave me structure, but wildlife photography gave me life. It is a career, but more importantly it is a way of being in the world.
Moving from pixels to prints was not only a change in profession. It was a decision to follow curiosity, to listen to that restlessness I felt behind the screen, and to build a life around it. Out in the wild, waiting for the light or the movement of an animal, I feel present in a way I never did in front of a computer. That is why I chose this path, and why I continue to tell stories through photography.
Johan Siggesson – www.johansiggesson.com