traversing.

I displayed my work in an exhibition.

It was terrifying.

Now I want to state I’ve had my work displayed before in galleries, alongside others. In shops, art markets – I’ve published articles and the like. My work is easily accessible for anyone to see on Instagram or my website. So, having my work out in the public eye is not a new thing to me.

But I’ve never had a physical space in which my work was solely on display, or shown anything so ‘personal.’ What an odd feeling it is.

The whole experience was so nerve-wracking for me that I hardly told anyone about it. The fear of showing my work at times can become all-consuming, which no doubt any artist reading this has felt the same.

‘Not good enough.’

‘Why would anyone care?’

‘No one wants to see my work.’

Does this sound familiar to anyone else? For whatever reason, despite these thoughts, in 2023 I put myself forward to exhibit my first project since Chasing Fish - traversing.

Traversing. has been ongoing for quite a few years now. It has taken many names and forms, changing as I’ve changed as a photographer and writer. Which is befitting when the body of work is an exploration on change, and how we navigate our way through life.

I did not have a lot of opportunity to overthink what I was actually doing in the build-up. The month beforehand, I was getting married – so I was not thinking about the exhibition at all unsurprisingly!

Then suddenly – July. How did that happen? How were we over halfway through the year, how was it that I was displaying my work in a few days? The nerves began to set in, and I was regretting my decision. I didn’t feel ready. The whole idea of displaying my work felt ridiculous and I felt so vulnerable. This body of work is perhaps the first project that has felt more than a photograph. As I’ve noted down in my book (still available to buy!) traversing. is a collection of stories, poetry, and musings on life over the past few years. I did not want to display ‘chocolate box’ landscapes of the sea. I knew this would likely mean I wouldn’t sell any prints, but I could not bring myself to do something that felt inauthentic to who I am as a photographer.

Yet, despite this, I kept thinking I should be showing my wildlife images, or the more traditional landscapes shots. The ‘crowd pleasers’ as I like to call them. But it was too late to change my mind – and thank God for that.

I was setting up the gallery. All my canvases laid out in front of me whilst I decided where to hang what and which images would pair well together. I wanted the images to naturally flow and not be too jarring. I wanted to make sure I left each image with ‘breathing space’ between each other – it’s a personal pet peeve of mine when artwork is displayed too close to each other as I find you don’t tend to focus on one image, but gaze upon several at once which often means the impact is not quite as effective. So I knew what I wanted, but this did not stop my heart thudding in my chest.

The photographs and books displayed, cards too, and the gallery was all set. I was terrified.

But I needn’t have been.

A few days after setup, there was a ‘Meet the Artist’ style opening of sorts. All it meant was that for a few hours, I lingered round the gallery and would speak to anyone who came in.

Apart from not many showed up, and whoever did show up I was scared to speak to them.

Well – my mum, brother and sister showed up. So that counts, I think.

Ok and there were a few people – strangers, and I did speak to all of them. So, it was not that bad.

The first group of people I spoke too were already in the gallery space when I walked in. And they were openly talking and admiring my photographs. It was surreal, like an out of body experience. They had no idea I had taken the photographs, and openly admitting to being the photographer felt almost narcissistic having heard them say such, honestly, really lovely comments.

But then one of them was discussing whether one such image was a sunset or sunrise. Perfect, I thought.

‘Sunset.’ I said.

‘Oh really? Oh, wait, are you Rosie?’

‘Yes, hello!’

I spoke with them all, discussing the ICM technique, where the photographs were taken, what they were printed on – various bits and pieces, really. But I realised, gradually after talking to a few people, it was fun. Many people spoke about their own photography, or other people they follow, and naturally the conversations flowed about wildlife, art, and of course Cornwall and its beautiful coastline. Much of the feedback I received focused on how the photographs made people feel calm, that the photographs themselves were very serene. A few of the people I spoke with mentioned that they enjoyed the fact the photographs were different from a lot of seascapes they see – which made me feel reassured that I did the right thing in displaying traversing. over my other photographs.

Talking about your own work is an odd experience for anyone, I think. You’re put in a situation where you need to talk about something that is often very personal and trying to remove that vulnerability is not just possible. I realised it is something you just have to embrace, with arms open wide, and speak authentically. Which is bloody difficult. I always felt like I was walking a tightrope of not wanting to sound narcissistic and self-indulgent, but very much aware that equally I wanted people to engage with my work – and truthfully buy it as well!

Somehow, I did sell some cards. And books. No prints, but that’s ok. I said to my husband, Joe, at the start that I as long as I sold some books, I’d be happy. And I did! It was a success. For whatever reason, people liked what I had created and engaged with it. That is what art is about in the end after all, making others feel something. Sometimes even just making yourself feel something – even if that something is just to feel alive.

Is doing a gallery exhibition something I’d do again? Yes, absolutely. Will I still be terrified?

Of course.

But as is often the case with life, sometimes you have to do it scared anyway.

There are still a handful of books and cards available, and canvas prints at a reduced cost, if interested please drop me an email.

Thank you for reading,

Rosie x

Summer’s Silence