I’ve always been drawn to creative expression — sometimes as an outlet, sometimes as a necessity. My journey has taken me through many forms of creativity: painting as a schoolboy with dreams of studying art history, writing poetry that found its way into literary magazines, and learning guitar so I could turn my songs into something worth sharing. I’ve recruited brilliant musicians to support my endeavours, played a few big gigs and a whole bunch of small ones, and even came close to getting signed.
I’ve written two fantasy novels — self-published and not strong enough for commercial publication — but creating long-form fiction was deeply fulfilling, and I’ll doubtless do it again. I pitched and wrote three business books that were commercially published. I’ve delivered keynotes to massive audiences and performed as a band frontman without a trace of nerves, even though I’m a wallflower at parties.
And then there’s photography. I’ve tried it several times over the years but only found my voice with it in the past twelve months. There’s something about observing and capturing with a camera that calms me now. For me, it’s not about chasing beauty or staging a shot. It’s about noticing the small, overlooked moments of life — the things most of us, most of the time, take for granted. I mostly take pictures of “nothing,” because nothing is ever really nothing. And this time around, it works because I’ve finally given myself permission to be bad at it — not particularly technically skilled, but fully present in the act of creating.
The Highs, the Lows, and the Thread That Connects Them
I’ve lived for a very long time with cyclothymia — think of it as a milder version of bipolar — which was only diagnosed later in life. In many ways, it’s been both a blessing and a challenge. It has driven me to create beyond my abilities, to play on stage or deliver performances that otherwise would have felt way out of my depth. But it has also led me to make bad life decisions and sometimes unhealthy behaviours. That’s why channelling this energy into creativity has been so important for me.
In recent years weaving — and spinning the yarn with which to weave — has been one of the ways I’ve stayed grounded. There’s something meditative about the rhythm of both activities, the way threads slowly come together into something meaningful. It’s a practice that brings focus and calm, giving me space to process the highs and lows of life while creating something tangible.
Why I’m Here
I’m Simon Middleton. After decades of creative exploration — through music, writing, weaving and spinning, and now photography — I’ve come to believe that living a creative life, or striving to, is part of what makes for a fulfilling existence. For me, a creative life is not about being a professional artist, nor is it about pursuing a hobby (though there’s nothing wrong with hobbies — I’ll post more about them in due course). It’s about seeing, feeling, and engaging with the world and the beyond.
Creative work doesn’t need to be paid or recognised to matter. It’s about the act itself — the curiosity, the practice, the joy and even the struggle of making something new. These articles (they will continue) are my space to share what I’ve learned (and am still learning) about living a creative life. I’ll post photo essays, reflections, and stories about the small moments that make life richer. I’ll maybe post some music too, once I’ve plucked up the courage to share it.
Creativity isn’t about being ‘good’ — it’s about giving yourself permission to create in the first place.
If you’ve ever felt the need to create, or simply want to notice the world a little more, I hope you’ll join me here. You can also find me on Instagramand LinkedIn and you can find my photographs at MyPortfolio.