Neil Arthurs Interview - A 20-Year Journey in Travel and Photography
The Sound of the Gaze
Reflections on My First Time Stepping in Front of the Microphone
For twenty years, I have lived my life in the margins. As a photographer, your job is to be the silent observer—the ghost in the room or the shadow on the dune. We communicate through the physics of light, the choice of a lens, and the split-second decision of when to press the shutter. We don't usually talk; we look.
Last week, however, I found myself in a position that felt entirely alien. I wasn't looking through a viewfinder; I was sitting in front of a microphone. I was invited onto the TRVL° Photography Podcast to talk about this wandering life I’ve built. It was my first ever podcast interview, and honestly? It felt a lot like standing on the edge of Victoria Falls—a mixture of visceral roar and the sudden realization of how far there is to fall.
1. The Japan Full Circle
During the conversation, we touched on the "inciting incident" of my career. I went to Japan at twenty-one, not chasing a perfect frame, but chasing a girl [00:15:36]. I came back with something entirely different: a fundamental belief that photography was the only way I wanted to interact with the world. Talking about it now, having recently returned to Japan as a professional, felt like closing a twenty-year loop. It reminded me that while the camera changes, the curiosity that fuels it remains the same.
2. Vulnerability and the Sober Wanderer
We didn't just stick to f-stops and focal lengths. We talked about the harder stuff—the years that felt "lost" and the eventual pivot toward a cleaner, more grounded life here in Portugal [00:42:48]. There is a direct correlation between the clarity of one's mind and the clarity of one's vision. Stepping away from the noise of substances allowed me to finally hear the landscape. Sharing that on air was terrifying, but it felt as necessary as cleaning a lens before a shoot.
3. The Physics of Luck
One story I hadn't shared in detail before was being in Thailand during the 2004 Tsunami [00:23:42]. It is a stark reminder that as travelers, we are guests of nature. I was broke, standing on a beach, blissfully unaware of the physics of the ocean that were about to change thousands of lives. It is moments like those that teach you that photography isn't just about "getting the shot"—it's about the privilege of simply being there to see it.
Conclusion: Learning to Speak
I’ve always said that photography is about learning how to see. I’m realizing now that storytelling is about learning how to speak. My first podcast was a reminder that the stories behind the frames often carry as much weight as the images themselves. It was a chance to read, pause, and think about where this journey has taken me, from the Irish hills to the Thai coastlines, and finally, to this quiet life of wandering.
