My Trip to Kenya: A Change In Perspective

Why I Went to Kenya

In February 2024, I stepped off a bush plane into the golden, dust-swept air of Kenya — a land of breathtaking contrast and quiet grandeur. It wasn’t just a photography trip; it was a portal. A portal that changed the way I see light, movement, and life itself.

I arrived hoping to sharpen my wildlife photography skills. What I didn’t expect was how deeply Kenya would shift my inner landscape. The rhythm of the wild — elephants meandering at dusk, lions resting under acacia trees, the quiet breath of zebras grazing — slowed me down. Time expanded. I began to see in a way I hadn’t before. Not just through the lens, but through my body.

Out there on the open plains, I began shooting differently. Instead of chasing the “perfect shot,” I found myself listening: to silence, to stillness, to my own intuition. It was the first time I truly trusted my instincts with a camera, much the way I do when giving a massage — letting sensation guide me.

Each photograph became a conversation — not just between me and the animal, but between me and a version of myself I’d been too busy to hear. I captured elephants brushing gently against one another in a moment of tenderness. A leopard barely visible in the shadows, reminding me of how much we miss when we rush. A child waving from the roadside in a burst of joy that caught my breath.

This trip changed my sense of what photography could be. It is no longer documentation. It’s devotion. A form of meditation. A way of acknowledging presence — mine, and that of everything around me.

Since returning, I find myself framing images differently, moving slower, editing less, and feeling more. My trip to Kenya cracked something open — a place inside me that now knows stillness is strength, and art is made not with your eyes, but with your heart.