Discover Still
- Hannah Tapping
- 1 day ago
- 3 min read
Words by Hannah Tapping
In the dance of light and shadow, artist Paul Sanders invites us to pause, breathe and see the world anew.
As a journalist, there are moments in life when you meet a person and for the duration of the interview, time stands still. Such is the case as I sit down to talk to photographer Paul Sanders at his Krowji studio, the weekend after Cornwall has been decimated by Storm Goretti. Strange how nature sometimes holds a mirror; as we talk it becomes apparent that Paul’s journey to now has been something of a storm in itself.
Paul’s formative working years were spent, first as a black and white printer, then as a fashion photographer. An illustrious career in newspaper photography followed, where Paul was the go-to for leading editors when they wanted ‘that’ picture. The rise to the heady heights of esteemed Picture Editor at The Times was the pinnacle, with Paul responsible for the entire visual content of the publication which could amount to overseeing up to 20,000 images every day. Publishing can be a cruel mistress and Paul tells me that after six years in the job, severe burnout and stress created his own perfect storm which swept him down a dark alley.
“The world around me seemed to be turning too fast, as though out of control, and I constantly felt like I was being suffocated.” A nervous breakdown followed by a period of severe depression, insomnia and two suicide attempts upturned Paul’s world. He openly shares this with me in the most eloquent of terms and quietness of tone. We both nurse coffee cups as if chalices and share a silent moment of reverence.
We return to the now and Paul continues… his darkest of hours were thankfully permeated by small chinks of light as he let back in the medium of photography, little by little. Working closely with his therapist, the images he took became talking points for sharing the deepest of emotions and a way to seek out beauty in life.
“Flowers naturally caught my eye, not because of their beauty but how they reminded me of myself and my struggle with life. I would sit just looking at the flowers, noticing their curves, lines, fragility and strength – they fascinated me. I spent hours just watching the flowers bloom, fade and die, entranced by their battle. Within each plant I could see myself, I almost became the flower, or the flowers became me, I couldn’t tell where I ended and they began. But witnessing their struggle to give their best, even when I forgot to care for them, they would still perform their dance
for me.”
Moving to Cornwall from the South East, Paul has found space and peace in Still. His work is now made in response to his emotional and spiritual reactions to the subjects he works with and reflects the sense of stillness and calm he feels whilst with them. Each subject, whether it be a prickly dried teasel head or a paper-thin honesty seed pod, is held to the light and then captured on camera. Such is the fragility, stillness and detail of form, at times the viewer is unsure as to its reality.
Paul’s beautiful, highly reflective work has been exhibited widely across the UK, Europe and Japan and his first book, Still: A Mindful Practice for Photographers is published this month and is my current bedside read. As I write, I’ve reached the chapter on distraction. “Do you find yourself constantly and inadvertently picking up your device and scrolling?” Indeed, I do. “Among this storm, the one person who needs your attention gets very little – and that is you.” So true. “What we need to do is to spend our most precious resource more wisely. Time is a resource we have only a finite amount of, none of us know how much we have been gifted, and yet we squander so much of it doing something that adds little to no value to our lives.”
The line between photographer and philosopher is blurred here. Paul has an innate ability to find and convey meaning… perhaps it’s the news photographer in him? His skill at capturing an image that would speak a thousand words, now translates to a more meditative practice. Whatever the reason, it is incredibly powerful, and I leave the interview with a feeling of calm that I haven’t experienced for a long time.
Still fine art prints are available to buy online and Paul runs photography retreats and workshops throughout the year.
Still: A Mindful Practice for Photographers, (HBK RRP £20) is published in February 2026 by Ilex Press.
