Paul Sanders approaches photography through attention rather than control. When he arrives at a location, he begins by meditating and paying attention to what is happening around him. He does not research in advance and prefers to encounter places as if for the first time. This “slow seeing” allows subjects to emerge naturally rather than being forced into pre-existing expectations.

He does not judge subjects as good or bad. Instead, he photographs what he is drawn to in the moment. His response is emotional and intuitive, whether the subject is a landscape, a flower, a wall, or a shadow. That openness is central to how the work is made. He often describes photography as a collaboration with the subject, a visual conversation that continues until he reaches a place of contentment.

Projects develop gradually. He does not usually set out with a fixed concept, but allows themes and connections to build over time. Long-term projects appeal to him because they let him discover relationships between subjects across years and places. Even then, he prefers to keep the process open-ended.

Presentation is also important to his working method. He values consistency in frames, mounts, and online display, and he often prints the images that matter most to him. Holding a print, for him, is one of the moments when the full sensory memory of the experience returns.

Paul Sanders’s conversation reveals photography as a means of recovery, self-knowledge, and quiet resistance to the values of speed and approval. Readers learn how profoundly his earlier career in visual journalism affected him, and how the pressure of that world led to a personal collapse that forced him to rethink everything about work, identity, and image-making.

One of the most valuable insights in the interview is the way photography becomes a language for emotions that could not easily be spoken. He explains that therapists recognized he could express visually what he could not say directly, and that discussing those images helped him open up. This makes the conversation more than a discussion of style or craft; it becomes an account of photography as a healing practice.

The interview also clarifies his current philosophy. He now photographs for himself, values authenticity over approval, and sees personal expression as more important than financial gain. Mindful attention, simple beauty, and emotional honesty emerge as the foundations of the work. What readers gain is not only a better understanding of his photographs, but a deeper sense of why they exist at all.

Paul Sanders belongs in Voice of the Eyes because his work demonstrates that photography can be both art and refuge. His perspective expands the conversation beyond aesthetics by showing how image-making can become a path through anxiety, depression, loss of identity, and recovery. That gives his photographs a weight that is inseparable from lived experience.

He is also important because he articulates a radically personal approach to the medium. Rather than chasing approval, audience expectation, or professional prestige, he argues for pleasing oneself, staying present, and responding honestly to the world. This creates work that is modest in tone yet deeply resonant in intention.

His contribution strengthens the publication by foregrounding mindfulness, authenticity, and the simple beauty of ordinary things. In a culture of speed, noise, and endless validation, Paul Sanders offers a quieter model of photographic practice—one rooted in attention, contentment, and the courage to let the work reflect who he truly is.