Monthly Studio Journal: January 2026

Hi, I’m Ania — welcome to my monthly studio notes. 😊
These little catch-ups are where I share what I’ve been photographing, what’s been inspiring me, and a few real-life moments in between. Nothing too serious, just a cosy scroll with a cuppa.


First Newborn of the Year

I kicked off the year with a newborn session for a truly gorgeous little miracle baby — just 7 days old. Those first sessions of January always feel extra special, because they set the tone for the months ahead. The studio was warm, calm, and quiet (apart from the occasional tiny squeak and the very serious baby facial expressions that always make me laugh).

Mum and Dad brought a few sentimental items to include in the photos, and honestly… I got goosebumps. When parents share the story behind a little object — a note, a keepsake, something passed down — it suddenly becomes so much more than a prop. It turns into part of the family’s history. Their journey to this baby had been long and emotional, and when they told me about it, I genuinely had tears in my eyes.

It’s moments like that which remind me why I love newborn photography so much. Yes, it’s beautiful to create soft, timeless images… but more importantly, it’s about holding onto that feeling. The love, the relief, the “we made it,” the quiet awe of meeting your baby for the first time.

And of course, we kept it baby-led (always). Lots of cuddles, gentle settling, and plenty of time for feeding and soothing. Sometimes the best photos happen in the pauses — the little hand on Dad’s finger, Mum’s cheek against baby’s hair, the way parents look at their newborn like they can’t quite believe they’re real.

Why January Newborn Sessions Feel Different

There’s something about photographing a newborn at the very start of the year that feels symbolic. A brand new life at the beginning of a brand new calendar. Clean pages. Fresh starts. Tiny toes.

My studio in Hampshire always feels extra quiet in January. Outside, everything is slower — grey skies, frosty mornings, soft light. Inside, it’s warm, neutral, peaceful. I actually love that contrast. It makes newborn sessions feel even more intimate.

Parents often arrive slightly tired (understandably!) but glowing in that quiet newborn bubble. We take everything slowly. There is no rush. Sessions can last up to three hours because babies set the rhythm. That’s important to me. Safety and comfort always come first.

For anyone considering a newborn session near Portsmouth or across Hampshire, the ideal time is within the first 5–14 days. But honestly? The most important thing is simply capturing this season before it blurs.


Behind the Scenes: A Typical Studio Morning

A lot of people imagine newborn photography as lots of complicated posing. In reality, it’s mostly calm observation and patience.

The heater is on before the family arrives. Blankets are warmed. Neutral wraps are prepared. I’ve learned over the years that simplicity photographs best. Soft tones. Clean textures. Gentle light.

When parents walk in, I don’t immediately pick up a camera. We talk. We settle. Baby feeds. We breathe.

That’s something I’ve grown into more confidently over time — slowing down. Early in my career, I probably felt pressure to “produce.” Now I know the magic happens when everyone relaxes.


Big News: We’re Selling Our House!

Right… deep breath… because this still feels a bit surreal: we’re selling our home.

We’ve been in Denmead for 20 years. Twenty. Years. I can’t quite compute that. I still remember so many specific moments: every renovation project, the extension, the chaos of moving furniture around, the “why did we start this?” moments… and then the proud “okay, this was worth it” feeling when it finally came together.

This house has held so many milestones for us — bringing home our dogs, having a baby, creating a home studio, and welcoming so many lovely families through my door. I photographed tiny newborns here who are now toddlers. I photographed families who came back again and again. It’s been a chapter full of life.

But we’ve outgrown the space, and it’s time. I’m trying to remind myself (repeatedly) that home is the people you love and the life you build, not just bricks and paint colours. Still… saying goodbye is emotional.

I’m also trying not to jinx anything, so I’ll share more once things move along a bit. For now, I’ll just say: exciting, nerve-wracking, and very “what is my life?” all at once. 😉

The Emotional Side of Moving a Studio

Moving a photography business isn’t just about packing boxes. It’s about saying goodbye to the light in a room you know by heart. The way the morning sun hits a certain corner. The creak in the floorboard. The tiny marks on the wall from years of backdrop stands.

This space helped me grow. It saw my doubts, my experiments, my early editing mistakes, my proudest sessions.

And now, as we prepare for a new chapter (likely closer to Chichester), I’m dreaming of what the next studio might look like. More space. More light. Maybe even bigger windows.

Change is uncomfortable — but it’s also where growth hides.


Cinema Time

This month also included one of my favourite things: a proper cinema trip with my girlfriends.

I’d recently finished (well… audiobooked) “The Housemaid” by Freida McFadden, and it had that “just one more chapter” energy that makes you ignore real life responsibilities. It was gripping, and I remember absolutely needing to finish it.

Then I heard about the film adaptation ages ago — and by the time we finally went to see it, I’d forgotten enough of the plot that I could enjoy being surprised again (which is honestly the ideal scenario).

Was the book good? Yes.
Was the film satisfying? Also yes.

It was so fun watching everything unfold on screen — especially with friends beside me reacting in real time. And that twist… absolutely delicious. The kind that makes you want to turn to someone immediately and whisper, “NO WAY.”

Why Creative Breaks Matter

I genuinely believe stepping away from work fuels creativity.

Watching films, reading books, going for long walks in Hampshire countryside — it all feeds into how I see stories. Photography isn’t just technical skill. It’s emotion, narrative, pacing.

Sometimes inspiration comes from a baby’s expression. Sometimes from a thriller novel twist.


Small Business Reflections in January

January is always slightly reflective for me as a small business owner.

It’s the month where I:

  • Review last year’s sessions
  • Look at what worked
  • Notice what drained me
  • Think about how I want this year to feel

I’m trying to build a business that is sustainable, creative, and aligned with family life. That means protecting time, refining workflows, and sometimes saying no.

For photographers reading this — I’m slowly learning that growth isn’t just about doing more. It’s about doing what matters better.


Looking Ahead to Spring Sessions

Even though January is quiet, spring is already on the horizon.

Outdoor family sessions in Hampshire are some of my favourites once the light softens and fields start blooming. Portsmouth beaches in golden hour. Woodland walks near Chichester. Open fields near Butser Hill.

There’s something about photographing families outdoors that feels completely different from studio sessions. More movement. More laughter. Less “sit nicely.”

If you’re thinking about updating family photos this year, spring is honestly such a beautiful time to do it.


Little Notes Before February

January always feels like a mix of quiet rest and sudden momentum. On one hand, it’s slower and reflective. On the other, it’s full of fresh energy — new plans, new goals, and that slightly terrifying feeling that the year is now properly happening.

I’m heading into February feeling grateful, motivated, and (if I’m honest) a bit emotional with all the house stuff. But I’m also excited — for new sessions, new stories, and all the small moments that make this job so special.

If you’re reading this: thank you for being here, and I’ll see you in the next studio journal. 💛

West Sussex beach West Witterings