ABOUT ASSYNT PHOTOGRAPHICS

The original idea of Assynt Photographics was conceived in 1983, while I still lived in Glasgow and had never even visited Assynt. This was when I finally admitted to myself that, no matter how much I wanted to, I was never in a month of Sundays going to achieve my ambition to be a painter (except perhaps the attic-dwelling, starving variety with a penchant for absinthe and ear removal), certainly not without a degree of effort, single-mindedness, patience and dedication that was completely beyond me.

GLASGOW, MAY 1984This is the only picture from my first attempts at photography that I can look at now and see any merit in. I left Glasgow shortly after this and remain convinced that had I not moved to the North-west Highlands and been subjected to the constant flow of inspiration it provides, my photographic career would have been stillborn.

I then decided to make use of an old Pentax my father had given me 3 years previously but that I had rarely used. I firmly believe that there lurks within every photographer a lazy painter. I took this maxim a step further by being a lazy photographer and Assynt Photographics, a poor, undernourished beast, experienced a 22 year gestation, playing second fiddle to the more mundane realities of everyday survival and it wasn't even given a name until 2006, when I was forced to stop trying to earn an honest living due to a multitude of orthopaedic conditions that had rendered me incapable of doing so.

ARDVRECK CASTLE, 1989 My best-selling photographs have nearly all been "grab shots", those rare occasions when I just happened to be in the right place at the right time with a camera to hand fitted with the right lens. The castle itself, on the shores of Loch Assynt , has yielded up a number of good sellers, despite its familiarity and having been so heavily (and usually unimaginatively) photographed by so many.

I left Glasgow in 1984 and for the next 7 years or so I worked variously as a bartender, kitchen porter, winkle picker, tree planter, fencer and, for a soul destroying year, as an assembly-line drone churning out revolting slip-cast figurines in a small pottery that qualified as a such only by virtue of working with clay, possessing a kiln and a remarkable ability to seek and find a niche market for utterly tasteless kitsch wrapped in phoney "Highlandness" - something I found rather unsettling and discouraging as it disavowed me of a cherished youthful naiveity which had led me to believe that virtue and reward were somehow directly proportional.

This period was punctuated by spells of general labouring and followed by fifteen years in various areas of the fishing industry in Lochinver - which became my home in 1987 after 3 years on the Isle of Lewis - mostly unloading boats and loading lorries and, for a few years, at sea on various small fishing vessels catching (and frequently not catching) dogfish, prawns, crabs and lobsters. Throughout this time I worked away at my photography but somehow something always prevented me making the final push, despite positive feebback through sales and encouragement from friends and family.

In 1995 I took a break and did a one year course in photography at Stevenson College in Edinburgh. I already had a good understanding of most aspects of the (pre-digital) course and the qualifications I achieved were of far less importance to me than the rewards that came from simply being able to spend a year concentrating on the subject which had transfixed me and absorbed all my spare (and not so spare) resources for a dozen years. My technique improved dramatically as a result and the way ahead seemed slightly clearer.

SUILVEN, 1991 One of hundreds of pictures I have taken of this magnificent mountain, a landmark so prominent that it takes an effort of will not to photograph it. The endlessly changing light and weather means that, despite its familiarity, I always produce something different.

I came back from college and immediately ended up back in the fishing trade but with sufficient confidence to start producing sellable landscape prints. I staged a couple of moderately successful exhibitions in the Ceilidh Place in Ullapool, one of a pitifully small number of venues in the west Highlands that actively supports the arts, and at any given time had work for sale in various craft shops in my home district of Assynt in Sutherland.

The digital revolution had kicked off just as I was leaving college, but as the equipment was still completely beyond the scope of my resources and my bank manager's patience, I was out of the frame from a professional aspect as the industry and its clientelle was now relentlessly embracing the new technology and a large amount of my technical knowledge had become effectively redundant. I suffered either way as resisting it was pointless and utilising it unaffordable.

The only outlet open to me therefore was exhibiting and selling prints and so I spent the next ten years working almost solely with Kodak black and white infra-red film, a fantatsic material whose effect can be mimicked, but never matched, by digital. At this time I was armed with nothing more than a couple of elderly Nikons, two prime lenses, a couple of filters and a Durst enlarger.

Fortunately for me, digital photographic technology finally reached the twin imperatives of quality and affordability and broadband finally reached the North-west Highlands just as my lumbar region finally attained uselessness and I was thus able to put 23 years of photographic knowledge and ability to good use. Thanks to www.clikpic.com and their marvellous website templates, designed for people who needed professional quality websites but who knew next to nothing about computer technology, www.assyntphotographics.com was born in May 2006 and within three months Assynt Photographics started trading full-time.

HIGHLAND PONIES, CLACHTOLL 1998 One of a series of seven photographs taken in 10 minutes which between them have probably earned me more than the ponies ever did for their owner.

I am indebted to Highland Stoneware Ltd. of Lochinver for entrusting me with the massive responsibility of doing photographic justice to their vast range of fantastic ceramics for their latest brochure and new website, a task which occupied me for three months and got my business off to a flying start. During this time I learnt a huge amount, so much indeed that if I'd realised at the outset how much I didn't know I wouldn't have attempted to take the job on.

Since then work has come from a surprising number and range of clients and so far, it looks like all the time, money and effort I have devoted to it might finally bear fruit.

CRUAMAR, LOCHINVER, December 23rd 1995 I owe a debt to Jimmy "Fang" Stewart, the old gentleman in the above photograph. He is no longer with us, but caused endless mirth while he was, not always intentionally. This shot was taken while I was an impoverished student and has sold over a hundred times in the 10 years since. If you place your thumb over the figure, the picture falls flat. The success of this photograph has been a reliable morale booster whenever I've felt like giving up.

Above all though, none of this would have come to anything were it not for the support of my wife Cristine and the inspiration generated by our beautiful son, Robert William Morrison, who entered this world in July 2006.

Martin Morrison, February 2007

All images © Martin Morrison / Assynt Photographics