Imagine beginning a photo project that doesn't just improve your technical photography skills, but also shifts how you see the world. A project that nudges you to step outside your comfort zone, spend more meaningful time with your loved ones, and capture moments you never want to forget. A project that offers healing, discovery, and joy—all through the simple commitment of taking one photo a week. This is the essence of a Project 52, and for one photographer, it became a journey of transformation.
A Project 52 is not a new concept, but the version we began last year took a deeply personal twist. Graduates were encouraged to choose a single word to guide them for the entire year. This word would become their theme—flexible enough to grow with them, but focused enough to challenge them creatively. Unlike traditional Project 52s, where the weekly prompts are decided by others, this approach empowered photographers to create a visual story unique to their lives.
Becca Lord-Lyon embraced this opportunity wholeheartedly. At the time, she had just welcomed her daughter, Lenox, into the world and was managing the demands of running a retail business. Despite her busy life, she didn’t just start the project—she completed it. Along the way, she didn’t just improve as a photographer. She grew as a mother, a woman, and an artist. Through her story, we explore how a Project 52 became much more than just a photo challenge—it became a life-enhancing pursuit.
Choosing the Right Word: The Power of Intention
In the first week of her Project 52, Becca chose a word that would push her to live more intentionally. She wanted to create a collection of 52 images centered around her daughter Lenox, to eventually compile them into a keepsake album. As new parents who often preferred the comfort of home, both Becca and her husband needed an external nudge to explore the world outdoors with their child. Her first thought was to choose "Outdoors" as her guiding theme, hoping it would force them to spend more time in nature. But living in the UK, where the weather is frequently unpredictable, she realized it might be unrealistic to rely solely on outdoor settings every week.
Instead, Becca chose the word "Seasons." It was broad, meaningful, and could be interpreted in both literal and metaphorical ways. This decision allowed her to capture the changing climate outside and the passing phases of family life inside. When outdoor shoots were not possible, she adapted creatively. During the Christmas season, when her daughter fell ill, Becca turned her bedroom into a makeshift studio and experimented with twinkle lights to achieve soft bokeh. It was this spirit of flexibility and imagination that set the tone for the rest of her project.
The word "Seasons" gave Becca a reason to pause each week, observe her surroundings, and consider how to represent that theme freshly. Whether it was crisp autumn leaves, the soft pastel tones of spring, or the quiet warmth of a blanket indoors, every photograph began with the simple act of reflection. And that act—thinking intentionally before pressing the shutter—quickly evolved into something powerful.
Building a Routine That Brings Joy
In the beginning, remembering to take a photo each week was a challenge. Life with a new baby is unpredictable, and sometimes the days slip by too quickly. But after a few weeks, something shifted. Around week twelve, Becca found that Sundays had transformed into family days dedicated to adventure and photography. Her Project 52 gave her a reason to pause, step away from the chaos, and focus on her passions. It wasn’t long before this routine became an anticipated highlight of each week.
Every Sunday evening, Becca would review her images, choose her favorite, and edit it. The process brought a sense of ritual and purpose. Sharing the photos on social media, especially with the supportive online photography community, became an uplifting experience. Feedback from fellow learners and instructors reinforced her motivation and helped her push her boundaries further.
This newfound routine didn’t just benefit Becca—it strengthened the bond within her family. Her camera became a tool to document not just moments, but memories in the making. Little adventures turned into lasting images, and everyday routines became precious stories frozen in time. With each click, she wasn’t just improving her craft—she was curating a visual journal of her life.
Facing Fears and Finding Freedom
Perhaps the most surprising transformation came when Becca confronted one of her deepest fears—sand. Since childhood, she had experienced an intense aversion to it, to the point that she avoided beaches altogether. Before starting the project, she hadn’t walked barefoot on sand in years. But as the weeks passed, and as her daughter grew more curious and adventurous, Becca realized she needed to face this fear for the sake of her child.
The opportunity came when Lenox began taking her first steps. Determined to document this milestone, Becca brought her camera to the beach. At first, she stayed in closed shoes. But watching her daughter explore the sandy shore stirred something inside her. She stepped onto the sand and began capturing moments—tentatively at first, and then with growing confidence.
Later that year, during a family holiday, Becca found herself sitting barefoot on the beach beside her daughter. She did it without panic. That moment marked a turning point—not just in the project, but in her journey. Without the Project 52, she may never have challenged herself to overcome that fear. But her commitment to the project, her desire to keep up with her daughter, and her dedication to capturing their experiences empowered her to reclaim something she thought she had lost forever—freedom.
In that moment, the Project 52 was no longer just a creative endeavor. It became a healing experience. Becca’s camera wasn’t just a lens—it was a bridge between fear and courage, between self-doubt and self-expression. She discovered that photography isn’t only about seeing—it’s about being present, being brave, and being real.
Creating a Visual Time Capsule of Your Life
Photography is often described as a tool for preserving memories. But when done with intention, it becomes more than just a record of moments—it becomes a time capsule. As Becca continued her Project 52, this concept took on a powerful meaning. By committing to capturing one image each week, she gradually built a chronological visual archive of her daughter’s first year. In doing so, she created something most parents long for—a window back in time to see how far their child has come.
She remembered small but meaningful details. In week two, her daughter had just learned to sit unaided. By week nine, Lenox was standing, pulling herself up with determination. These developments are easy to forget in the blur of early parenthood, especially when days feel long and routines are exhausting. But Becca had tangible proof of each milestone. Each photograph wasn’t just a visual cue—it was a reminder of a feeling, a memory, a moment frozen with all its surrounding emotion.
There’s something deeply grounding about being able to say with certainty, “This happened then.” Often, we find ourselves unsure when looking back. Was it this month or that? Was it summer yet? Did she crawl before or after the holidays? With her Project 52, Becca didn’t have to rely on memory alone. She had the images, and with them came the context—weather, light, environment, and expressions—that brought everything back with striking clarity.
It wasn’t only about Lenox. Through this visual storytelling, Becca also documented the subtle changes in herself. As the photographer behind the lens, she was also part of the journey. Her confidence in composition improved. Her editing style evolved. Her understanding of light deepened. Comparing her early images to those taken later in the year made the progress evident. She wasn’t just recording her daughter’s growth—she was documenting her own.
Evolving Creativity Through Repetition
Creativity flourishes under constraints. While it may seem counterintuitive, being asked to photograph the same theme every week for a year—especially something as broad and interpretive as “Seasons,s”—fosters innovation. At first, Becca found it easy to identify ideas. Autumn leaves, winter frost, Christmas lights, and spring blossoms all offered clear visual cues. But as the weeks went on and seasonal transitions began to blur, the challenge increased. This is where the true creative growth happened.
She began noticing the subtler signs of seasonal change. The length of shadows in the afternoon. The way the colors in her daughter’s clothing reflected the mood of the month. The changing light through the window in the morning. These weren’t details she had sought out before, but the discipline of the project trained her eyes to see them.
Some weeks were more difficult than others. Poor weather, illness, and family responsibilities sometimes left little room for creativity. But rather than giving up, Becca adapted. One week, her daughter was unwell and couldn’t be taken outside. Instead, Becca set up a cozy scene indoors using soft lights and blankets. She used what she had to continue the project and maintain the narrative flow. The result was a beautiful and honest depiction of their real life—not staged, not perfect, but genuine.
Creativity is not about perfection. It is about expression. Through repetition, Becca learned to appreciate the imperfections, to find beauty in the ordinary, and to embrace the unpredictable nature of photography. Some images were spontaneous, captured in a fleeting moment. Others were carefully planned and executed. But all held value because they came from a place of intention.
As she grew more confident, she began experimenting with different compositions, light sources, and editing techniques. Her comfort zone expanded. She used shadows more creatively. She began including motion and blur, embracing emotion over sharpness. She realized that not every photo had to be technically perfect to be meaningful. And that realization made her images feel more alive.
Refining Editing Skills Through Consistency
The technical side of photography can often feel overwhelming, especially for those who are self-taught or still developing their style. For Becca, editing was one of the areas where she felt both excited and unsure. She admired both bright, airy images and dark, moody ones—but struggled to find her place between the two. The Project 52 gave her the structure and consistency she needed to explore this part of her craft with more clarity.
At first, her edits were influenced heavily by mood and environment. During winter, her images leaned toward darker tones, with rich shadows and contrast. But by spring, she was drawn to light-filled, colorful frames. Reviewing her photographs at the end of each season helped her recognize trends in her editing choices. Over time, she began to ask herself important questions. What do I like about this image? What would I change? What mood am I trying to convey?
By Christmas, she realized that some of her images had become overly saturated with red tones. It bothered her in retrospect, but instead of feeling discouraged, she saw it as an opportunity to refine her eye. She began researching different editing tools, asking for advice in photography groups, and experimenting with features she had previously ignored. She discovered the power of subtle adjustments, like clarity and dehaze. These small changes brought her images to life without overpowering them.
In March, she re-evaluated her use of blacks and shadows. She noticed that removing too many shadows made her images look flat. With trial and error, she found balance. Then in June, she discovered dodge and burn techniques, which gave her greater control over light and depth. This breakthrough was a turning point. Her photos began to reflect more consistency, not just in style, but in intention.
Editing became more than just a technical task. It became part of her artistic voice. She stopped trying to mimic other photographers and focused instead on what felt right to her. Each week’s photo became a chance to experiment, fail, learn, and try again. And because she didn’t delete her earlier images, she had a clear record of her growth. Looking back at the series from beginning to end showed just how far she had come, not just in terms of skill, but in confidence and clarity.
Staying Committed Through Challenges
One of the biggest challenges in any long-term project is consistency. Life doesn’t pause for creative pursuits. There were weeks when Becca felt uninspired, discouraged, or overwhelmed by her responsibilities as a mother and business owner. Some weeks were marked by illness, stress, or simply a lack of time. But the beauty of the Project 52 was that it didn’t require perfection—just perseverance.
Unlike photography courses with weekly assignments and instructor feedback, this project was self-directed. That meant Becca had to stay motivated on her own. There were no deadlines or external pressure. Her only obligation was to herself and her creative journey. That internal motivation became stronger each week, as she began to see the value in showing up even when it was hard.
Some of her favorite images came from those difficult weeks. Because she didn’t have time to overthink, she had to rely on instinct and spontaneity. Instead of setting up elaborate scenes, she focused on capturing real moments as they happened. A quiet cuddle on the couch. A rainy-day reflection in the window. A quick burst of laughter between chores. These weren’t polished or planned, but they were authentic, and that authenticity gave her project emotional weight.
There were times she missed a week. But instead of quitting, she kept going. She let go of the idea that the project had to be perfect and embraced the reality that life is messy. And in doing so, she discovered one of the most valuable lessons of all: progress doesn’t require perfection. It requires showing up, again and again, no matter what.
Photography became not just an art form, but a form of mindfulness. A way to pause, to breathe, to observe. The camera reminded her to look closely, to appreciate details, to find meaning in the everyday. And even when the week’s image wasn’t her favorite, it still had a place in her story. It still represented a piece of her year—a piece of her life.
Finding Strength in Vulnerability
Creative projects have a way of bringing us face-to-face with our most vulnerable selves. The act of putting something personal into the world—especially something as intimate as a photo from your daily life—can feel daunting. But it is in this vulnerability that deep connection and transformation occur. For Becca, the Project 52 offered more than just an artistic outlet. It became a mirror. One that reflected not only the growth of her daughter, but also her own evolving identity as a mother, a woman, and a photographer.
Sharing her work on social media became a part of the process. Every week, after selecting and editing her image, Becca would post it online, first on Instagram, then into her photography community. At first, it was nerve-wracking. She questioned whether her photos were good enough. Whether people would understand her artistic choices. Whether anyone would care. But she quickly discovered that vulnerability is often met with understanding and encouragement. The photography community wasn’t there to critique her—they were there to walk the journey with her.
With each post came more confidence. The support she received from fellow participants, many of whom were on similar journeys, became a powerful motivator. Their feedback helped her see her images with fresh eyes. Sometimes they noticed details she had missed. Sometimes they expressed emotional reactions that reminded her why she was doing this in the first place. Over time, she stopped worrying about perfection and started focusing on presence.
This confidence spilled into other areas of her life. She became less concerned with how she looked to others and more invested in how she felt behind the lens. She started photographing her daughter in public places—something she never would have done before. Coffee shops, parks, and even supermarkets became backdrops for small stories. And as she grew more comfortable in these environments, her photos gained a new level of authenticity. They were no longer confined to safe, private spaces. They began to reflect the full spectrum of her family’s life.
Confidence doesn’t come overnight. It is built photo by photo, experience by experience. Becca’s Project 52 proved that with consistency and self-compassion, even the shyest voice can become strong. Even the quietest story can carry weight.
Transforming Daily Life Into Art
When most people think of photography, they imagine grand scenes, dramatic landscapes, or carefully staged portraits. But Becca’s Project 52 taught her that beauty often lies in the quiet, ordinary moments that go unnoticed. A child’s messy curls after a nap. The golden light that dances across the kitchen floor. The way her daughter’s fingers clutched a toy with fierce concentration. These fleeting glimpses of life, captured with care, became the heart of her project.
What began as a creative exercise slowly transformed her relationship with daily life. She no longer rushed through her routines. She began to notice details she would have missed before. A shadow cast on the wall. The sparkle in her daughter’s eyes. The texture of rain on a windowpane. Her camera became a tool for mindfulness—a way to slow down, to appreciate, and to stay present.
The challenge of sticking to one theme—Seasons—meant she had to constantly reinterpret her environment. She explored the cyclical nature of time not only through nature, but through the small changes in her home and habits. A winter blanket on the couch. A spring flower placed in a jar. A summer hat hanging by the door. These small, almost imperceptible changes told a story. They showed not only the passing of time but the rhythm of life unfolding.
By treating everyday moments as worthy of attention, Becca elevated them to art. She stopped waiting for the perfect photo and started capturing real moments instead. And in doing so, she created a body of work that was both deeply personal and universally relatable. Other parents, artists, and creators saw themselves in her images, not because they were the same, but because they were honest.
Art is not always about what you see. It’s about how you see. Becca’s Project 52 didn’t require expensive equipment or exotic locations. It only required an open heart, a curious mind, and a willingness to look deeper.
Rediscovering Identity Through Creativity
Motherhood often shifts a woman’s sense of identity. Priorities change. Time becomes limited. The self, once known through career, hobbies, and friendships, can feel lost in the daily demands of caregiving. Becca felt these shifts acutely. Her daughter was everything to her, but she also missed the parts of herself that had existed before motherhood. Photography gave her a bridge between those worlds.
The Project 52 became a space where she could just be Becca, not just “mum” or “shop owner.” It gave her something that was hers alone, something creative and fulfilling that didn’t require her to leave her daughter behind. It brought them closer. Many of the photos featured Lenox, but they were about more than just documenting her daughter’s growth. They were about expressing how Becca saw the world, what she valued, and who she was becoming.
This balance between self and family became one of the project’s greatest gifts. As Becca developed her style, she also reconnected with her passions. She remembered why she loved photography in the first place. Not for the likes or the praise, but for the joy of capturing light, emotion, and connection. For the quiet thrill of freezing a moment in time.
She also began to reflect on her journey. Who was she before this project? Who was she now? The answers weren’t always clear, but the act of creating gave her space to explore those questions. With each image, she carved out a piece of her identity—a mix of artist, storyteller, mother, and woman.
Photography didn’t just help her document her life. It helped her understand it. It became a form of self-inquiry, a way to process emotions, celebrate joys, and sit with challenges. And by the end of the year, she realized she had found herself again—not the same as before, but stronger, clearer, and more whole.
Developing a Lifelong Practice
As the weeks passed and the year neared its end, Becca began to reflect on the totality of her experience. Fifty-two images. Fifty-two weeks of life, change, and learning. The project had become more than just a challenge—it had become a habit. A rhythm. A way of being.
Completing the project was a huge accomplishment, but it also left a void. What would she do with her camera now? Could she go back to photographing only when she felt like it? The answer came quickly. She missed the structure, the purpose, the sense of direction. So she began a second Project 52, this time with a new theme: Colour.
This second project wasn’t a repeat—it was a deepening. Having already proven to herself that she could stay committed, she entered it with more confidence and clarity. Her theme choice reflected her desire to explore light, tone, and emotion even more intentionally. It also gave her a fresh lens through which to view the world, to notice the vibrancy in her surroundings, and to challenge herself creatively.
She realized that a personal photo project didn’t need to be a one-time thing. It could be a lifelong practice. A tool for staying connected to the present. A means of growth that evolves with each season of life. Whether she continued weekly, monthly, or in more flexible formats, she knew photography would remain a grounding force.
What started as a photo challenge had become a cornerstone of her life. It influenced how she planned her days, how she engaged with her family, and how she saw the world. It gave her something to look forward to, something to be proud of, and something to return to when life felt overwhelming.
Personal projects don’t require external validation to be valuable. Their worth lies in what they offer you. For Becca, it was a safe space to grow, a place to be vulnerable, and a path back to herself.
Discovering the Unexpected: Growth Through Challenges
One of the most powerful elements of embarking on a Project 52 is the way it pushes you into unexpected territory. Each week, you’re confronted with new ideas, new ways of seeing, and new techniques to try. Over time, this expands your comfort zone and encourages you to explore photography far beyond what you originally thought possible.
What’s especially beautiful is how many surprises you’ll encounter along the way—not just in terms of subjects or technical execution, but in personal growth. For Becca Lord-Lyon, Project 52 became a journey of discovery. She didn’t always feel inspired or ready, but she trusted the process. As the weeks passed, she realized she was capturing images that reflected emotional depth and quiet honesty—things she hadn’t anticipated.
When you commit to showing up every week, even when inspiration feels low, you cultivate discipline. That discipline often leads to creative breakthroughs. It might be a week where everything goes wrong—poor lighting, missed focus, unruly weather—and then somehow you still manage to pull something together. The result may not be what you envisioned, but in many ways, it becomes more meaningful for what it represents: resilience, adaptability, and growth.
Project 52 isn’t about being perfect every week—it’s about learning to embrace the imperfect and recognize the beauty within it.
Building a Legacy: One Frame at a Time
Another often-overlooked benefit of Project 52 is the creation of a visual time capsule. By committing to one photo a week, you are capturing your life, your world, and your emotional state as it evolves over a year. In hindsight, this becomes a powerful collection that reflects not just technical progress but personal evolution.
Becca shared how her Project 52 photos—though sometimes small in scale—became deeply significant over time. A picture of a shadow on a wall taken in February. A child’s hand resting on a knee in July. A close-up of a forgotten object in the garden in October. None of these seemed groundbreaking at the time. But months later, these images formed a tapestry that represented her year in a way no journal or written entry could match.
In the chaos of life, it’s easy to overlook the quiet, beautiful moments. By taking a conscious pause once a week to create, you train yourself to become a better observer, not just of your surroundings but of your inner world. You start to notice patterns: how the light shifts, how moods change with the seasons, how your subjects subtly evolve.
This legacy doesn’t need to be shared publicly to be powerful. Even if your Project 52 remains private, it can offer deep meaning and serve as a visual diary to revisit in future years.
Cultivating Confidence and Voice
Perhaps one of the most underrated outcomes of a Project 52 is the development of a creative voice. Many photographers—especially in their early stages—struggle with confidence and clarity. They may be unsure of what makes their work unique or feel pressure to emulate others. Project 52 offers the space and time to experiment without the need to be “right.”
Week after week, as you explore themes and ideas, you begin to notice recurring elements in your work. Maybe it’s the way you frame your subjects, your choice of lighting, or a certain emotion you tend to capture. These small, consistent details form the foundation of your voice.
Becca emphasizes that voice doesn’t develop through grand gestures—it’s found in repetition, reflection, and refinement. Through her year-long journey, she began to recognize her leanings toward storytelling and emotional subtlety. Her confidence didn’t come from external validation; it came from realizing that her perspective had value.
Confidence isn’t about believing you’ll get it right every time. It’s about showing up even when you’re unsure—and over time, realizing that your vision matters. The structure of Project 52 gives you room to find that voice in a safe and intentional way.
Fostering a Sustainable Creative Practice
While short-term photography challenges (like daily projects) can be thrilling, they’re often difficult to sustain and may lead to burnout. A Project 52, on the other hand, is built for endurance. It mirrors the rhythm of life—steady, intentional, and achievable—even when things get busy.
Becca often speaks of the practicality of the project. With a full-time job, family, and various commitments, she found a daily challenge impossible to maintain. But one image per week felt manageable—and even rejuvenating. It became a ritual she looked forward to. In some weeks, she had to carve out time intentionally; in others, inspiration struck spontaneously. Either way, she made space for creativity without letting it become overwhelming.
This sustainable model helps nurture a lifelong relationship with photography. Rather than burning out after a month of intensity, you build a rhythm that complements your life. It’s not about rushing—it’s about deepening. And the result is often more meaningful, not just in the final collection of images, but in how your mindset and habits evolve.
Through Project 52, photography becomes less of a task and more of a way of seeing. It blends into your life, enhancing your attention, creativity, and joy week after week.
Conclusion:
The beauty of Project 52 lies in its simplicity: one photo per week, for fifty-two weeks. But within that simple structure lies a transformative journey—one that invites growth, reflection, creativity, and connection.
Becca Lord-Lyon’s experience with Project 52 reveals just how powerful this practice can be. Through her story, we learn that it’s not about producing perfect images or adhering to strict rules. It’s about showing up. It’s about being open to what unfolds when you commit to creativity as a weekly practice.
Each photo becomes a thread in a larger tapestry—capturing not just visual scenes, but emotions, transitions, and moments of stillness. And as the weeks pass, you begin to see yourself differently—not only as a photographer but as a storyteller, an observer, a creative being with a voice worth sharing.
Project 52 isn’t a sprint. It’s a gentle walk through a year of your life, camera in hand. And at the end, you’ll have 52 pieces of art—and 52 reflections of who you were, what you saw, and how you grew.
So if you’re considering starting a Project 52, don’t wait for the perfect time. Begin where you are. Use what you have. Let each week surprise you. Because one photo a week may not seem like much, until you look back and realize it changed everything.