Adnan Gohar is a London-based creative and photographer. Through his agency, he helps brands craft memorable packaging and offline experiences. He is also a podcaster who likes to explore topics related to trust, growth, and human connection. In this blog, he gives his take about his creative process and why instinct matters more to him when holding a camera.
I don’t consider myself an expert in photography.
I just know that I love it — which is probably why my camera album is 90% experiments and 10% happy accidents.
Photography has brought me joy, taught me patience, and helped me express myself in ways words often can’t. What started as a hobby slowly became a deeper passion — and eventually intertwined with my work in brand and creative storytelling.

For me, photography has always been about emotion. About capturing something you feel, not just something you see. The best photographs — the ones that stay with you — are those where you don’t just capture a photo, but capture yourself in the moment.

The ones that, when the photographer looks at them later, take them straight back into the moment and remind them of their presence there.

That’s what I look for every time I pick up my camera. Whether it’s a family event or a quiet candid portrait, I’m drawn to the honesty of the in-between moments. The ones you can’t stage or script. I particularly love shooting outdoors and have always been pulled towards wildlife photography. It’s one of the most difficult forms I’ve tried, but also the most rewarding. You can wait for hours and get absolutely nothing or, with a little patience and a lot of luck, capture something unforgettable.



Once, I waited for over two and a half hours with my wife beside me, hoping to capture a tiger at just the right moment. It wasn’t just about seeing the animal, it was about waiting for that split second when the light, the posture, and the emotion aligned. That kind of experience reminds me how much photography is about being present. There’s something beautiful about capturing those unique moments.

Photography itself has changed so much. I remember visiting an exhibition about photography’s evolution. From a time when a single photographer served an entire town, to the rise of home cameras, to the mobile phone era, and now, AI-generated images that blur the line between fact or fiction. It’s fascinating, but also a little overwhelming.

In many ways, I think people today are craving something honest again — real and unedited.
Photography is subjective. It’s an art and with that comes personal taste. Some people really connect with my style, and others may not. I’ve worked with people who want carefully posed group shots, and others who prefer to direct every angle and composition. I respect both. But I’ve also learned that my job isn’t to please everyone. It’s to stay true to my own eye and capture moments the way I genuinely see them.

For me, it’s not just about the rule of thirds or perfect lighting — it’s a feeling. It’s noticing a moment before it unfolds, sensing emotion in a scene, and instinctively knowing when to press the shutter. I don’t always get it right, but when I do, it feels like I’ve caught something that might have otherwise been lost.

That same instinct flows into the other side of my life — running a brand experience agency. Whether I’m working on a packaging concept, a store activation, or a photoshoot, I’ve realised creativity isn’t about following a formula. There’s no single right or wrong.
There are trends, sure, but what sets people apart is how they interpret and express those ideas in their own way. It is a personal lens that makes the work feel authentic and, dare I say, human.
For me, that’s what photography comes back to: capturing something human. Something that is inexplicable but is still felt.

Yes, we live in a time where anyone can take a photo, but that doesn’t mean the art has lost its value. In fact, I think it’s more meaningful than ever, when it’s done with intention, emotion, and honesty.
Everyone has a camera. Not everyone sees the same way.
And that, I think, is what makes photography worthwhile.

