Introduction
Color is suffocating. At least, it was for me. I have a tendency to overthink and color demanded too much attention to detail. Reds too red, blues too blue... Would this shade of yellow work with that shade of green? Was the saturation too high? Every scene a chaotic explosion of hues; a constant source of anxiety.
This led to endless debates with myself, endless deleting of photos I wasn't sure about, and a crippling fear of post-processing. Ultimately, color was killing my joy for photography. I needed to simplify, to strip things back to the essentials.
I needed a way to break free from the tyranny of color, and so, I embarked on a year-long challenge: to shoot exclusively in black and white. What I discovered during this year of monochrome was nothing short of transformative.
Rules of engagement
My gear of choice for this year-long experiment consisted of two cameras:
Leica Z2X: This rangefinder, loaded with black and white film (primarily Ilford HP5 and HP4), would be my analog companion, forcing me to slow down and consider each shot carefully.
Fujifilm XT2 & XE2S: This mirrorless camera, utilizing Fujifilm's exceptional Acros and Monochrome film simulations, would be my digital counterpart, allowing for greater flexibility and experimentation.
While both cameras offered distinct approaches to black and white photography, the core rule remained the same: no color.
Disclaimer: I made a few exceptions. I couldn't completely abandon color, my friends just would not allow it. Therefore, I continued to shoot color when needed, such as weddings and the vibrant and colorful Portuguese celebration of São João. May the monochrome gods forgive me.
Before the purge
I've loved photography since I was 15, but somewhere along the way, the joy faded. Everything about it felt like a distraction. Color felt like that brat tapping their pen on the desk during an exam, constantly interrupting my focus. Here's a glimpse of what my photos looked like before this journey began.








So it begins…
Achromatopsia and chromophobia (the opposite of Tyler, The Creator's album) aside, this isn't simply about the aesthetic of color versus no color. This is about my artistic and personal growth in 2024. I want to bring this point home by breaking down the remaining sections of the articles as a series of "discoveries".
Where Emotion Reigns, Detail Suffers
Honestly, I get paralyzed by detail. It's like trying to drink from a firehose – you just end up coughing and sputtering. Information can be a suffocating blanket, smothering the delicate bloom of emotion. This was especially true at a concert in April 2024. Surrounded by seasoned photographers with their arsenal of cameras and flashes, I felt like an imposter with my single Fujifilm XE2S (limited to a monochrome film simulation). The sheer number of details – the flashing lights, the crowd's movements, the intricate stage setup – threatened to overwhelm me. Despite my self-doubt, I captured a few shots, all under-exposed and lacking in detail. Yet, something about those images resonated with me. Unintentionally, the under-exposure helped to hide a lot of the visual noise that was distracting me, allowing me to focus on the raw emotion of the performance. I would go on to post this on social media and the artist himself even requested a copy of my photo, which served as a powerful confirmation of what I was beginning to realize: I preferred less detail in my images, I could force everyone’s eyes on what I deemed important. This experience became a pivotal moment, solidifying my emerging artistic direction: to hide what is not necessary, to prioritize emotion over a “good photo”.

Two months later, in the chaotic Lisbon flea market, surrounded by a cacophony of sights and sounds, I observed a father completely captivated by his son's playful exploration. The father, seemingly oblivious to the bustling market around him, focused solely on his child. This singular focus, a beacon of attention amidst the chaos, resonated deeply with me. It reinforced my emerging philosophy: strip away the unnecessary and find meaning in the simplicity of a single, powerful emotion.
Slow down…
Frustrated 'cause you can't find your keys
Focused on the meetings you finna miss
And the traffic you finna sit in to realize you been holding your keys the whole time
Slow down
You've been hypnotized by the possibility
I've been hypnotized by the possibility – of the perfect exposure, the ideal aperture, the right filter. Thinking grayscale was sobering. I could finally focus on what was in front of me, on the light and shadow, the shapes and forms. It forced me to slow down. I cannot tell you the amount of times I've been too busy on camera settings vs taking photos.
I remember one evening, I was chasing the sunset at a lake, obsessed with capturing the perfect reflection of the bridge. I was so caught up in adjusting my settings, trying to capture the vibrant hues of the sky, that I almost missed the opportunity right in front of me. A lone figure in a white hat sat gazing out at the lake, while a couple sat close by, their shoulders touching. Two boats glided silently past, creating gentle ripples on the water. It was only when I shifted my focus, stripped away the distractions of the colorful sunset, bridge and reflection on the lake, that I noticed the quiet poetry in this scene. These subtle details, the interplay of light and shadow, the human connection, were far more compelling than any vibrant sunset. That image, one of my favorites of the year.
Fighting Boredom
The initial excitement of shooting in black and white quickly faded. The novelty wore off, and the daily grind of capturing images started to feel monotonous. Temptation lurked around every corner: a new filter, a different lens, a desire to chase that elusive "perfect" color image. Boredom threatened to set in, urging me to abandon my commitment to monochrome. But I persevered. I reminded myself of the initial reasons for this project: to simplify, to find my own voice, to rediscover the joy of seeing. I forced myself to stick to the rules, to embrace the limitations, to find beauty in the mundane.
In the process, I stumbled upon my own authentic voice. My vision sharpened, my storytelling became more nuanced, and my output evolved from generic imitations to a unique and personal expression.






I admire your commitment to a project/process!
I can relate to how color can be distracting or even daunting sometimes. Limitations can be a great creative boost!
Loved your article and photos! It inspired me to re-focus on my photography next year.