Photography

A camera, a habit, a way of paying attention.

Photography found me quietly, somewhere between technology, work, and the ordinary rhythm of my days. It never really left.

01 β€” 2012

First camera, first frame

In 2012, I had just finished university, with more curiosity than money. I started noticing photography everywhere: the way light hit a street, the way one photo could hold a feeling. I was already into IT, but this new interest stuck around too.

It took a while before I could actually buy a camera. I worked, saved some money, and finally got my first one: a second-hand Nikon D90 with a Tamron 17-50mm f/2.8 lens. It wasn't a great camera by today's standards, but it was mine, and that was enough to start.

Self-portrait in a mirror holding the first camera, a Nikon D90

02

Learning to see

With that camera, I started noticing things I used to just walk past β€” people going about their day, the streets and countryside back home, a kid laughing at nothing in particular. I had no training and no real technique. I just carried the camera around and used it whenever something looked worth keeping.

A young girl in Vietnam smiling and making a peace sign at the camera
Ricky's grandmother, seated, with his mother standing beside her during a Tet holiday gathering

Looking back at those early photos, I could tell something was missing. They weren't what I had pictured, and a few times I thought about giving up the camera for good.

β€œA perfect photograph is the most natural one, the most real one β€” because simplicity and honesty are always the most beautiful things in life.”

That was my grandmother. She's gone now, but I still think about that line every time I pick up a camera.

03

Learning by doing, together

From there I started actually building skills β€” joining local photography groups, comparing notes with other people who were into it, and picking up my camera for friends. I shot weddings for people I knew, and portraits for whoever wanted one. Most of what I learned came from doing it, not reading about it: how to read a room, how to get someone to relax in front of the camera.

A newly married couple embracing quietly in a pine forest
A wedding couple posing with two groomsmen in front of a waterfall
A bride and groom smiling at each other in a forest, holding a bouquet
A couple embracing beneath a lone tree under a dramatic sky
Portrait of a young woman in a black hat, photographed on a sunlit street
Portrait work for friends
Backlit portrait of a woman turning toward the camera near a bright window

04 β€” 2018

A new horizon

In 2018, I moved to Australia for the first time, and it changed how I used a camera. I liked the open landscape and the people here, and I started going on trips just to take photos β€” not for anyone else, just for me. That was new. Up until then I'd mostly shot for other people.

A man standing on rocks by a lake in Australia, looking up at the sky
A calm Australian lake at dusk with mountains silhouetted on the horizon

05 β€” Adelaide

Memory Lane Photography

After I finished studying in Adelaide, I finally acted on an idea I'd had for years and started memorylaneadelaide.com with my friend Mark Lee. Our motto is simple: β€œPhotos that feel calm, real and personal.” We think about photography the same way β€” no forced poses, no rush. I run it alongside my IT work, and we also do free portrait sessions for the community sometimes.

Portrait of Mark Lee, co-founder of Memory Lane Photography, by the coast
Mark Lee, co-founder
A newlywed couple laughing together by the beach
A couple holding their Certificate of Marriage after an outdoor ceremony in Adelaide
Ricky and Mark Lee standing together in a canola field
Ricky and Mark, Memory Lane Photography

06 β€” Ongoing

Still exploring: road trips around Adelaide

These days, when I need a break, I drive out of the city into the hills and farmland around Adelaide. I like that landscape β€” sheep in a paddock at golden hour, one tree standing on its own, a dirt road heading toward the hills at sunset. No client, no plan, just me and a camera before the light goes. It's the same reason I picked up a camera back in 2012: photography is mostly just paying attention.

Green farmland stretching toward distant hills at sunset near Adelaide
A wide open paddock at dusk with a treeline on the horizon
A flock of sheep grazing in a golden-lit paddock in the Adelaide Hills
Sheep grazing near a solitary tree as the sun sets over the hills
A lone tree silhouetted against a glowing sunset with sheep grazing nearby
A quiet country road lined with fences leading toward the hills at golden hour

07 β€” September 2026

Champion Wildlife Print

On 5 September, the first day of the Royal Adelaide Show, one of my photos won Champion Wildlife Print in Show. I called it Little Gull: a seagull standing on the sand at sunset, looking straight at the camera. I took it on an ordinary evening at the beach, the kind of photo where the light was good and the bird happened to hold still.

Seeing it framed on the exhibition wall with a ribbon next to it was a strange feeling. Fourteen years after I bought that second-hand Nikon D90, a photo of a bird on a beach reminded me why I started carrying a camera around in the first place.

Little Gull, the award-winning photo of a seagull standing on the sand at sunset
Little Gull, Champion Wildlife Print in Show
Ricky standing beside his winning print and ribbon at the Royal Adelaide Show exhibition
Close-up of the Champion Wildlife Print in Show ribbon and exhibit label

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