#22 The Sunday Edit Vol.1
A morning edit over a coffee and music.
Here we are, Sunday. Maybe one of my most favourite days of the week. It’s almost like a reset. A chance to be lazy, edit and plan the week ahead. No hard and fast rules, just a moment to pick up on anything I’m curious about.
The Sunday Edit—Vol.1
Yesterday I was out running—training for an upcoming mountain running race that I signed up for; albeit a little ambitious with it only be 10 weeks away (I’ll go into this another day). On that run, I noticed a weekend newspaper, wrapped in plastic, resting on the driveways, freshly delivered to a select few houses. I thought those days had gone. It seems there are still a few people that enjoy sitting down over a coffee and flicking through the local news without distraction—like the good old days. A ritual maybe? Noticing this was a moment of something nostalgic and got me thinking! A bit like a Sunday newspaper—I should dive into a body of work, over a coffee to edit a photoset, and release it, each Sunday. No exceptions, rules or outcomes other than to open a folder, and just edit — while enjoying it for what it’s worth.
Backed by a simple line I red from the book The Creative Act this week.
“One of the best strategies to self fulfilment is to lower the stakes.” Rick Rubin.
Without further ado! — Sunday 13th July
This week’s music selection.
A track to embody the photoset. For your listening pleasure while browsing to get the sense of the whole set.




A back road that led us to cross paths with what I believe could be one of the smallest of alpine huts. A roadman’s hut called “Irishman Creek” formed in approx. 1916. Flanked by the most extreme highlands—which is now kilometres of military base.









I tend to lean towards harsh environments, soft light; however, I think got this one as harsh environment, harsh light. It’s hard to shoot photos at midday, but this set turned out kinda ok.


Excuse my tiny binoculars.


After a few hours of claim, 0kph winds, we watched a brief dust storm brew in the distance. Within a fraction of a minute, that was it—65kph gusts persisted for hours. I’d forgotten how frustrating the blowing of constant wind in your face could be. But, never the less, I love how unpredictable the mountains are!
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I love these kind of posts! I might steal your idea 🙂↕️