Finley Taylor
09/07/24
28 January 2023
17 August 2022
Looking back, the visual language that emerged from this project would go on to define much of the work that followed.
In this project, I explored the uncertainty of my future, expressing my emotions through the symbolism of blurred faces — a motif that has since become central to TheDiscOrg.
The blurred figures became a visual representation of emotional disconnection, capturing the strange feeling of being present in the world but not feeling truly in it.
scanography 04/03/2023
With this newfound photographic style, I delved deeper into surrealism and portraiture during my A-level studies. This exploration eventually culminated in my final A-level project titled “Disassociation.”
Emerging from the COVID era, I rediscovered my creative outlet, drawing inspiration from photo manipulation and surrealism for my GCSE project.
The darker emotions I had experienced during the lockdowns began to influence the direction of my work. Photography became less about capturing images and more about translating thoughts and feelings into something visual.
Around the same time I began my GCSEs, the world was turned upside down by COVID-19.
Like many people in my generation, the lockdowns profoundly altered my perspective and passions. For me, this period became the darkest time of my life. Being confined to isolation for such a long period forced me to confront emotions and thoughts that I didn’t fully understand at the time, and it’s safe to say I wouldn’t be the person I am today without going through those mentally difficult times spent in isolation.
red arrows isle of white 04/08/2017
lake berryessa 30/07/2018
lost gardens of heligan 01/05/2016
Family trips to places like the Eden Project and the Lost Gardens of Heligan were opportunities to hone my skills behind the lens for several years, gradually developing my understanding of photography until I eventually took it on as a GCSE subject.
10/01/2016 technology experiments (age 11)
As well as photography, I also developed a strong fascination with technology. Cameras, computers, and anything digital always seemed to capture my attention, and I spent a lot of my childhood and teens exploring and experimenting with different pieces of technology.
macro images from 2017 (age 12)
In 2015, I began my journey as a macro photographer. I loved taking my camera everywhere, searching for the most beautiful flowers and insects to capture.
To truly grasp the depth and meaning of TheDiscOrg, it's essential to start from the beginning: my journey into photography, the highs and lows along the way, and the personal experiences that have shaped the abstract, surreal images you see on this site.
What began as a personal creative outlet slowly developed into a growing body of work.
Each project explores different emotions, environments, and ideas, all connected by the surreal visual language that first emerged during those early experiments.
The scrapbook tells the story of where it all began.
The collections that follow show where that journey continued.
I felt lost when I shot this.
I hadn’t picked up my camera for around a year, and I had a lot of built up emotion with nowhere for it to go. I knew I needed to create something, I just didn’t know what yet.
I’d always wanted to shoot in the woods, and being surrounded by nature gave me a sense of freedom. Like I could finally let go and get it all out.
When I started TheDiscOrg, I thought I had a clear idea of my style and where I wanted to take it. But putting this set together, something just didn’t feel right. I wasn’t fully happy with how it was coming across.
The first time I shot here in the day, it didn’t work at all. It felt disconnected — like it didn’t belong with anything I’d made before. So I went back at midnight, chasing something darker, something closer to what I had in my head.
It still wasn’t exactly where I wanted it to be.
But it was the point where I started figuring things out.
I imagined spending the day sitting on a busy staircase, watching people pass by — each absorbed in their own world.
Some were rushing to work, heading to a date, visiting the doctor, or just running to the shop. As the hours went by and the day began to fade, those same people came back up the stairs. Some looked tired, others stressed, fed up, or angry.
I realised you can learn a lot about someone just by watching their journey like that.
It’s in those in-between moments that our minds start to wander — reflecting, regretting, wishing, hoping.
Multistorey Madness came from that feeling.
When nothing seems to be happening on the outside… but inside, everything’s falling down.
Imagine you're in the middle of a cornfield. The stalks stretch endlessly, golden waves swaying in the breeze, blurring the line between dream and reality. The air hums with quiet life: whispers of the earth, the soft rustling of leaves like secrets passed between old friends. Time slows here, the sky above a vast canvas of blue, and in that moment, it’s as though the world holds its breath, suspended in serenity.
At the time, I’d been driving around Cornwall searching for locations, just picking a direction, getting lost, and hoping to come across something worthwhile. When I found this, it felt familiar. Like those cliché film scenes with couples dancing in fields, golden sunlight hitting the lens, everything feeling warm, soft, perfect.
I wanted to contrast that image by placing something heavier into a setting that looked so calm on the surface.
Something that reflected how, even in the most peaceful environments, you can still feel completely alone.
Another week, another location.
I ended up in Portreath — not really where I expected to be. After sending my car down one of the worst country lanes I’ve ever driven, nearly rolling it off a cliff, and finding absolutely nothing at the original spot, I had to improvise again to find a location to shoot.
That’s how I found Dead Man’s Hut. Featuring tight cobblestone walls, a rusty gate, and isolated windows, it was a very claustrophobic space that I felt represented the feeling of not being able to escape the dark thoughts that sometimes control our minds.
At the time, I still felt like TheDiscOrg wasn’t where I wanted it to be. But I was starting to find a rhythm — putting work out consistently, experimenting, seeing what connected.
So I just kept going.
I imagined standing in a vast expanse of shifting dunes, each grain of sand like a fragment of scattered thought.
Shadows flickered like brief moments of clarity, slipping away just as quickly as they came. The wind carried something uneasy with it. Doubt, uncertainty, blurring the lines of reality.
It gave a surreal sense of detachment, and this project explored that state by continuing the dialogue initiated by Conscious Cornucopia, offering a fresh take on the complex interplay between beauty and inner turmoil.
After a couple of weeks photographing local bands, I returned to the core of TheDiscOrg. Focusing on creating images that explore the complexity of mental illness through surreal, expressive visuals.
Shot on Porth Island, the location brought a heavy contrast. The abstract rock formations and dramatic cliff faces sat against the blurred, shadowed figures, creating something that felt both natural and unsettling at the same time.
My original blog for this collection was:
'As TheDiscOrg evolves week by week, I’m finding new techniques and styles that feel like they’re really leveling up what’s on this page. The more I practice, the more natural the workflow feels, like things are finally falling into place. And it’s fulfilling to know I have something in my life I’m genuinely passionate about, something I’m hungry to keep chasing. My only hope is that one day, this journey will grow into something bigger, reaching the right people who connect with it.'
Another week of TheDiscOrg, and this one got a bit strange.
I ended up climbing into an alien-looking rockpool, in the middle of a cave. The space had this otherworldly feel to it, but at the same time, it felt closed in. Like everything was being held inside it.
The cave brought that sense of entrapment, while the blurred faces carried the emotional weight behind it. It felt less like separate people, and more like fragments of the same mind, all stuck in one place.
At this point, I knew I had to keep pushing things forward.
Finding new ways to present the same ideas, instead of repeating myself.
