Andrew Griffiths

Behind my grandparents' farm was a small country aerodrome.

As a young boy, I would often sit on the hillside for hours watching gliders silently soar along the ridgeline. They would whistle overhead, circling invisible columns of rising air, and were often joined by a pair of large Wedge-tailed Eagles doing exactly the same thing.

I was fascinated by them.

I remember wondering what it must look like to them from up there. I would imagine the feeling of flying across the ridge, watching the patterns in the landscape rush by below and seeing the world from an entirely different perspective.

That idea has stayed with me for my entire life.

Looking back, I don't think I was fascinated by flying itself. I was fascinated by perspective. The idea that an entirely different world could reveal itself simply by changing where you stand, or by waiting for the right light.

Today, before I photograph a city, I like to experience it from the ground. I walk its streets, watch the way the light moves through the buildings, notice the movement of the people, the scale of the architecture and the character of the place. At the same time, I'm imagining how all of those pieces will come together from above.

Every photograph begins long before I leave the ground. People often imagine that the helicopter is where the photograph is made, but for me it's simply where weeks, months, or sometimes years, of imagination and planning finally come together.

The reality of flying isn't quite what I imagined as a child. It's cold, noisy, bumpy and, for someone seeing it for the first time, the sheer scale of the view can be overwhelming.

The closest I ever come to that feeling I imagined on the hillside isn't during the flight itself. It's through the photographs. Every photograph is another attempt to capture and share that feeling.

Over the past twenty-five years that pursuit has resulted in work being commissioned by governments, tourism organisations, architects and developers around the world, recognised through international photography awards, and exhibited in homes and workplaces across the globe. But the reason I still fly today is exactly the same as it was all those years ago.

I'm still curious.

I'm still fascinated by perspective.

And I'm still trying to capture the feeling that first made me look up.