Photograph The Ones You Love: Why Ordinary Moments Matter

TL;DR

The photographs that end up meaning the most are rarely the polished, curated ones. They’re the ordinary, repeated, almost-boring moments that quietly stitch a life together.

In this post, I show you how I approach photographing my own family, why these pictures carry weight, the power of simple photofilms, and a set of practical prompts and exercises to keep you shooting with purpose.

Who This is For

• Parents, grandparents and carers who want truthful, everyday pictures of the people they love.

• Photographers curious about a candid, documentary approach at home and looking for simple, repeatable methods.

• Anyone who believes the ordinary matters more than curated perfection, and wants a body of work their family will return to.

Why This Matters

When I look back at the photographs I treasure from my own life, it’s not the staged pictures that move me. It’s toast crumbs on a plate. The shadow that falls across a child’s face just before school. The coat thrown on the sofa, and the dog by the back door waiting to be let out. Tiny things, seen many times, that accidentally become a record of who we were.

We often think photographs need drama to be worth making. But the ordinary is the honest record. Ordinary is where love lives.

It’s also where time does the most damage. The small routines change without telling you. A favourite cup breaks, cots become beds, friends drift. One day, you will want a photograph that shows how it felt to be here.

“A photograph doesn’t have to be good, it just needs to be important.”

— Kevin Mullins

My approach in one paragraph

I keep a camera close, shoot with simple settings, and look for light, composition and moment in ordinary routines. I don’t overshoot scenes because sometimes the act of photographing can crush the moment itself. I choose a small number of pictures that feel true, and I print them. That’s the whole point, really.

The true value of photographing family

There are a few quiet reasons these pictures matter more than we expect.

1. Photographs outlast memory. Memory is generous with the headline moments and stingy with texture. Photographs store both. Your images become a sensory archive.

2. They show the change we didn’t notice. We don’t see growth in real time. We see it in pairs. Before and after. Those breakfast-table pictures you make every Sunday become a time-lapse of childhood.

3. They teach you to see again. The discipline of looking at familiar things with curiosity will sharpen every part of your photography, whether it’s weddings, street, or portraits. If you can find pictures in your kitchen at 7 am, you can find them anywhere.

4. They’re for the people in the frame, not the algorithm. Family photographs are made to be held, passed around, put in a shoebox, and bound into a book at the end of the year. Likes are nice. Legacy is nicer.

What “ordinary” actually looks like

Ordinary is not a lesser category of image. It’s a different subject. It’s the ritual of tying laces. The view in the rear-view mirror. A hand reaching for a biscuit. A door, slightly open. It’s the dog with muddy paws on the kitchen tiles, and no one is pleased, least of all the person with the mop.

If you’ve followed my work, you’ll know I favour the documentary mindset. No directing, no performance, just real life. In family photography, that means patience and proximity.

Stand where the feeling is, but don’t poke it too much.

A simple technical setup that keeps you present

You don’t need much. Gear is secondary, but a small camera helps. I typically work with a fast, small prime like the Fujifilm X100VI and settings that let me stay out of my own way.

• Aperture priority at f/2–f/4 indoors, f/4–f/5.6 outdoors.

• Auto ISO with an upper limit high enough for the light you live in.

• Minimum shutter set to something safe for movement (1/125 as a starting point with kids or dogs).

• Back-button focus or single-point AF. Keep it simple. Maybe read my guide on Back Button Focusing.

• JPEG + RAW if you like to share quickly but keep options.

• Small footprint: the less you look like “the photographer,” the more natural the pictures.

Remember: simplify so you rarely take your eye from the viewfinder. The photograph is in front of you, not in the menu.

Light, composition, moment at home

Light: Look at thresholds. Doorways, fridge light, phone screens, and the window by the sink around mid-morning. Learn what the light does in each room across the day. Turn off ceiling lights when you can. Mixed light is part of domestic truth, but if you can shape it by switching off a glare, do.

Composition: Let the clutter be context. Don’t tidy your pictures to death. Fridge magnets, school letters, and garden tools by the door. Frame them in, not out. Layer foreground and background. Shoot through the bannisters. Use mirrors. Let the environment speak.

Moment: It’s not grand gestures. It’s micro-expressions. The half-smile that only a parent can interpret. The way someone puts on a jumper. The sigh before homework starts. These are quieter, so you have to be patient. Breathe, watch, and make one photograph instead of twenty.

Don’t overshoot the emotional bits

Sometimes putting a camera into a tender scene can end it. I try to enter delicately, make one or two frames, and then lower the camera and stay present. If an argument is unfolding or someone is upset, the camera is not the priority, but the moment might be.

Ethics, consent, and respect

This really matters. You’re not a news photographer at home. You’re family. Ask yourself a simple question before you share: Who is this really for, and how will they feel when they’re older?

Young people deserve a say. If you’re unsure, err on the side of private. The best photographs can live beautifully in prints and books without ever touching the internet.

As my children got older, I stopped sharing so much, but we’ve had conversations about these images, and that is very important.

A gentle workflow that protects the story

You will thank yourself later if you keep things tidy as you go.

1. Ingest and cull
   Import to Lightroom Classic or Lightroom Mobile. I use Photomechanic for quick culling. I don’t fight for a picture that doesn’t carry the feeling, even if it’s technically fine.

2. Smart Collections
   Use Smart Collections to surface family work automatically. For example: camera model, date ranges, edit status, and a “blog candidate” flag. It keeps things moving when you’re busy.

3. Honest editing
   I keep the look clean. A little contrast, a gentle colour correction, and a push for clean skin tones. Then I add one of my presets. If you love monochrome, pick a consistent approach that serves the story. Avoid the temptation to stylise the ordinary into something it isn’t. The point is truth, not “the look”. You might be interested in my Lightroom Presets at this point, which I use to edit all my images.

4. Date-based naming
   YYYY-MM-DD_family_breakfast_001. Boring works. Future-you will love past-you.

5. Print and bind
   At the end of the year, make a book. One volume per year is a gift to the whole family. You will look through it far more than you will scroll an archive. Digitalab would be my partner in crime here.

A brief note on the editing of all these images

Every image in this post was edited with my Kevin Mullins Lightroom Presets. If you like this clean, documentary look, you can get the exact presets I use on my own family work.

Making simple Photofilms that actually get watched

Photofilms don’t need to be long or complicated. Two to three minutes is perfect. Focus on pacing and sound.

1. Pick a narrow theme: “Sunday Breakfast,” “Grandad’s Shed,” “The Walk to School,” “Our Holiday” or even “This Year”.

2. Sequence for feeling: Start wide, move to details, end on a quiet beat.

3. Resist bombastic music if it fights the atmosphere: Silence with ambient sound is often enough.

4. Export 1080p and keep it simple. You can always upscale later

A Photofilm from 2015. Shot on “proper” cameras, phones and some video clips. Sound up.

Ten prompts to keep you shooting your family

Use these for a month. Once a week is more than enough.

1. Hands at work: making, fixing, stirring, drawing.

2. Thresholds: doorways, first step outside, last step in.

3. Phones and screens: how they light faces, how people cluster.

4. The dog’s view: kneel and photograph the room from dog height.

5. Morning ritual: the first ten minutes after waking.

6. Dinner in three frames: prep, eating, aftermath.

7. The commute to school or work: bag by the door, shoes, a glance back.

8. Objects with history: the cracked mug, the football with signatures, the worn toy.

9. A quiet portrait: someone thinking, not posing.

10. Goodnight: the house after lights out.

A note about “ordinary” vs “Instagram-ready”

There’s no law against a tidy room. But if your home always looks staged, you’ll end up with photographs about performance, not life. Keep a light hand. If you have a habit of pre-clearing every scene, perhaps let things sit as they are for a week and see what stories emerge. You might want to empty the cat’s litter tray, though.

What I’ve learned from photographing my own family

I learned that good pictures are a by-product of time spent, not the other way around. If I’m too “on a mission,” I miss the tiny bits. And this happens more than I would like. If I slow down and live the day, photographs appear. Some weeks, I hardly make any. Other weeks, there are small gems. It’s fine. This is a long game.

I also learned that showing my family the pictures matters. We sit down and flip through recent work. They choose favourites and those go on our Amazon Photos Storage and magically appear on our Family TV.

The books on the shelf open more than any gallery page on my site. That tells you everything.

Quick answers for busy people

• How often should I photograph my family?

  Little and often. Ten minutes a few times a week beats a frantic Sunday.

• What lens is best?

  Whatever you’ll actually carry. A small 28–35mm equivalent is ideal for home.

• Should I tidy rooms first?

  Only if the mess is the story blocker. Otherwise, let life be life.

• How do I avoid annoying everyone?

  Be present first, photographer second. Make a frame, then put the camera down.

For photographers who want a plan: a 4-week ordinary-life project

1. Week 1: Mornings
   Photograph the start of each day. Five frames per morning. Edit one keeper each day.

2. Week 2: Work and School
   Thresholds, hands, faces lit by screens, the return home.

3. Week 3: Meals
   Cook, eat, clear. A three-act story, three nights in a row.

4. Week 4: Night
   The last hour before bed. One portrait of each person in their own space.

By the end, you’ll have 28–35 pictures and a short photofilm without overthinking it.

FAQ

• What if my family hates being photographed?

  Start small and respect boundaries. Photograph things around people rather than faces to begin with. Hands, shoes, the after-effects of life. Ask permission to share when old enough to care.

• Do I need fast glass and a full-frame camera?

  No. A small camera you’ll carry daily beats a “perfect” camera that lives in a drawer. Use what you have. Set auto ISO and a safe minimum shutter and focus on moments.

• Colour or monochrome?

  Both can be honest. Monochrome simplifies. Colour carries context. Choose what helps the feeling, not what fits a trend.

• How do I edit without losing authenticity?

  Avoid heavy manipulation. Correct for clarity and let the scene breathe. The patina of real life is part of the point.

• What should I print?

  Your handful of favourites, plus contact sheets of the rest a couple of times a year. Make one book per year. That rhythm matters more than perfect curation.

Examples of my Commercial Family Photography

All the images above are my own, personal photography. If you want, you can explore some of my commercial family photography when I create memories for others: