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its.joshua.films

I help boutique stays and luxury Airbnbs tell stories that convert through film and digital content
Filmmaker 🎥| Traveller ✈️ | Author 📖

I stumbled into this little corner of the world ju

I stumbled into this little corner of the world just as the morning air decided to hold its breath. No signs, no trails, no cell service. Just the sound of water rolling over stones like small laughter in a quiet room. The kind of quiet that feels earned.That golden tree anchoring the scene? It held the light like it was trying to remember summer. Against the cliff’s rugged face and the soft hush of the meadow beyond, it stood like a gentle exhale after a long week.I didn’t plan to stay here long. But places like this ask nothing from you—except maybe to be still, to listen, and maybe to come back with a calmer heart.Glad I did.

There’s something about walking through a narrow

Found this spot under the overpass, where the city

Found this spot under the overpass, where the city’s rage bleeds through concrete and chlorophyll. Someone scrawled 'EAT THE RICH...' on a wall slowly being swallowed by vine and moss. It’s both a scream and a whisper.Ten years behind the lens and I still live for these quiet revolutionaries, tucked in the cracks of the world. The kind of places where weeds don’t ask for permission and statements don’t wait for applause.It’s raw, imperfect, alive just like the best meals and the most honest moments. I stood there until the light changed, watching the green make its slow, beautiful takeover. Nature always writes the last line.

This one’s from Amsterdam.I remember standing

This one’s from Amsterdam.I remember standing there, camera in hand, letting the quiet of the place do most of the talking. The spire rose like a forgotten whisper from another century - sharp, ornate, and unapologetically elegant. It didn’t beg for attention. It had already earned it, brick by brick, story by story.There’s something humbling about buildings like this. They’ve stood through wars, winters, wistful tourists. And here I was, a guy with a lens, just trying to do it justice. The way the soft daylight hit the roof, like the sky was giving it one last wink before dusk - it stopped me in my tracks.Moments like these remind me that beauty doesn’t need to shout. Sometimes, it just waits for you to look up.

There’s something about standing on the edge of

There’s something about standing on the edge of the world, salt on your lips, the crash of waves reminding you that you’re still alive. The Cliffs of Moher, alone above the chaos, the noise quiets and the questions feel lighter. The horizon doesn’t judge. It just keeps moving, and maybe that’s the whole point. Keep moving. Keep watching. Keep wondering. There’s always something out there worth chasing, even if it’s just the view.

Somewhere between cities and questions, I sat with

Somewhere between cities and questions, I sat with the quiet hum of the tracks beneath the train and the glow of a laptop lighting thoughts.Not every journey is mapped out in guidebooks; some take place between paragraphs of an email or that moment right before you hit send.

And the truth is, in a city full of people - brush

And the truth is, in a city full of people - brushing shoulders on the train, having to stand at the market because seats are a myth - somehow there’s a space for everyone.Theatre to wine. Film to boxing. Yoga to clubbing.
Whatever it is you’re into, that thing that you gets you out of bed in the morning. You can do it, and people will cheer you on.London celebrates the people mid-transformation, the not-quite-there-yet types, the late bloomers and too-soon dreamers.This city’s appetite for curiosity is bottomless.
It doesn’t care where you came from, just that you’ve got a story and you’re bold enough to tell it.No one blinks when you change your whole life.
Start over. Come out.
Dress louder. Talk softer. Walk your own weird line.It’s the sound of laughter three blocks away. It’s strangers pulling you into their circle because you looked like you needed a pint more than you needed a plan.London doesn’t just let you be who you want to be.It reminds you that who you are is already enough.
More than enough.#photographer #london #londoncity #londonphotography #photography

It’s the small things#sunset #newzealand #tra

It’s the small things#sunset #newzealand #travel #newzealandtrip #kiwilife

Changing careers isn’t easy but it’s worth it.

Changing careers isn’t easy but it’s worth it.It’s strange to watch these videos back. The memories. The photos. The videos. The emotions.It’s the only thing left of these travels. Not being able to see friends made along the way.
Lifelong connections forged in a few hours.
Only to be left too soon.Seeing these photos on the walls is a reminder that it really happened. That it wasn’t a dream. That a jump in the deep end without a plan worked out. Fear was embraced and on the other side the grass was greener.So when I see my photos framed and on walls. I’m reminded of the people along the way, the smell of the cities and valleys, the sound of train stations, the taste of coffee served in countless languages.
And at the end of the all.. stories to tell.#photographer #photography #photos #travelphotography #solotravel #paris #lauterbrunnen #belief #mentalhealth #travel

Since I was a few months old, whenever there was a

Since I was a few months old, whenever there was a camera, I’d stare straight down the lens.Wide-eyed, grinning, unblinking. Not out of confidence, but curiosity.
I didn’t know what it was, only that it was looking back.There was magic. A blinking red light. A whirring tape. A moment being captured for someone. Somewhere. Maybe just us. Maybe everyone.As I got older, nothing really changed. I was always drawn to it - the shape of it, the click, the pause before mum said "hello".I didn’t just want to be in front of the camera anymore. I wanted to know how it worked, where it would go, what story it could tell if you gave it enough light and truth.
That curiosity never faded. It just evolved.Now I’m a filmmaker, and it feels like coming full circle. Still pointing a lens, still chasing stories.
Some mine. Some of places. Some of people.Trying to capture something honest in the faces, in the silences between sentences, in the music that says what words can’t.
Trying to do what I’ve always loved - turning little truths into something that lasts.I watch old VHS tapes sometimes. The grainy kind, with jump cuts and muffled laughter off-screen. I cry. I laugh. I rewind. That’s the kind of impact I want to make. Not just polished films but memories that feel like home.So that’s still the goal. Keep doing what I’ve always done.
Looking straight down the lens.
And smiling.#Filmmaker #Storytelling #VHSMemories #Childhood #BehindTheScenes #Content #CreativeJourney #Filmmaking #VisualStorytelling

Some journeys aren’t measured in miles, but in m

Some journeys aren’t measured in miles, but in memories.Driving through the heart of New Zealand, past snow-dusted peaks and skies too wide to capture, we found something rare, stillness.
The kind of quiet that makes you look at your family a little differently. More present.Around every corner was a new gasp: mountains rising like something out of myth, lupins blooming in defiance of the chill, Lake Tekapo shining glacial blue beneath a sky that felt too big to name.We stopped more than we planned. For hot pies. For sheep crossings. For the views that made us pull over, again and again, just to feel it.The road gave us more than a route, it gave us time.
Together.If you’re thinking of hitting pause, this is your sign.
Load the car.
Take the long way.
Let the road remind you what matters.#LakeTekapo #NewZealandRoadTrip #FamilyTravel #Mountainscape #TravelTogether #ScenicDrives #SouthIslandNZ #SlowTravel #NewZealand

Edgewater isn’t just a resort. It’s a front-ro

Edgewater isn’t just a resort. It’s a front-row seat to nature’s best work.Where the lake meets the mountains, and time slows to the rhythm of the water.
Mornings that rise over still waters, evenings wrapped in golden alpine light, and a silence that speaks louder than city noise ever could.Whether you’re here for adventure or stillness, connection or solitude, this is a place that holds space for all of it.Come for the view.
Stay for the feeling.
Leave with more than you came for.#EdgewaterResort #LakefrontLuxury #NewZealandTravel #WanakaViews #LuxuryRetreat #NatureEscape #DestinationStay #travel #NewZealand

I used to spend every day behind a screen, pushing

I used to spend every day behind a screen, pushing pixels and fixing bugs I didn’t care about. It wasn’t bad, it just wasn’t me.One night, I closed the lid. Not forever, just long enough to ask myself what I was still doing. And for once, I didn’t reach for logic. I reached for a bag. A single carry-on. One change of clothes, my camera, a notebook, and an open ticket.Europe wasn’t some grand plan. It was a pulse I followed. London, Florence, Amsterdam, Innsbruck. Sleeper trains and street food, mountain light and metro tunnels. I shot everything, not for likes, not for clients.
Just because something in me needed to see again. Through the lens, the world slowed down. A face in a crowd. A bird crossing the sky at the perfect moment. Reflections in café windows. I started to believe that maybe - if I did it right - these images might live somewhere beyond the hard drive.
Maybe they’d matter to someone.A year passed. I returned home with dirt on my boots and something quieter, deeper inside me. Purpose, maybe. Or just peace.One weekend, mum picked a few photos and printed them. Not for Instagram. Not for a website. For a wall. We framed them together.It felt surreal. Photos I’d taken in cities and places we’ve been together before, just through her sons eyes, now sitting where we eat Sunday roasts and argue over who’s doing the dishes.Mum told me the lady at the print shop said, “These are amazing.” It hit hard.And in that moment, I realized something: I used to write code hoping it might make someone’s life easier.
But with a camera, a one-way ticket, and a bit of courage, I found something else.I made something that moved. That stayed. Something that could hang on a wall, quietly reminding people where I’d been, and why I left in the first place.#photography #home #travel #travelphotography #solotravel #europe #happiness #familyhome #home

Climbing Arthur’s Seat isn’t just a hike, it’s a slow conversation with the city.Step by step, the cobbled noise of Edinburgh fades, replaced by wind and wild grass and that kind of silence that feels ancient.Then you reach the top, and the city stretches below like a story too big to hold all at once.At sunset, everything softens. The stone glows gold. The shadows stretch long. The wind carries the sound of your own breath back to you.You feel small in the best possible way. Like you’re part of something old and ongoing.I stood there as the light sank behind the hills, and for a moment, nothing else mattered.
No rush.
No noise.
Just sky, earth, and a stillness you don’t find often.This is what Edinburgh does. It doesn’t shout. It lingers.
And if you’re lucky, it stays with you.#Edinburgh #scotland #solotravel #sunset #photography #travelphotography #travel #visitedinburgh

More from Tekapo. Not every shoot has to be seriou

More from Tekapo.
Not every shoot has to be serious.
Sometimes it’s about leaning into the moment, losing the pose, and letting yourself crack up mid-frame.The slip on the ice, the wind hits, the smile goes full chaos - and somehow, that’s the shot that matters.Because the best photos aren’t perfect. They’re genuine. They remind you that you were there, that your fingers froze off, and that you were laughing the whole damn time.Moments of gold, thank you @rebirthwithraina#LakeTekapo #bts #SnowDay #happiness #newzealand #photoshoot

Lake Tekapo. Snow falling soft as breath. Cold eno

Lake Tekapo. Snow falling soft as breath. Cold enough to still the noise in your head. We came for photos, but it turned into something else.Being behind the camera is joy. But being in front of it - really seen through someone else’s eyes - that’s intimacy.
The tattoo, the snow, the watch, the lake… it all just clicked.We laughed. Lost poses. Found something better. And in the end, the photos weren’t just promo, they were proof. That we were there. That we were real. That someone saw us with love.Thanks @rebirthwithraina . You caught the moment. And a piece of my soul with it <3#photography #newzealand #photoshoot #watch

An important discussion in business and travel.W

An important discussion in business and travel.Which would you rather have?#travelphotography #travel #business #mtcook #newzealandguide #aoraki #newzealand #spreadsheets

Pourquoi pas 🌿Somewhere between absurdity and

Pourquoi pas 🌿Somewhere between absurdity and bliss, at 1pm on a Thursday, the lazy river was empty.With every pool noodle in sight commandeered, floating backward like some drifting emperor of off-season leisure.The autumn sun hit just right, warm and smug on my face. A lifeguard caught sight of the scene, laughed, then politely turned away.Maybe out of mercy. Maybe respect. Either way, it was perfect.It’s in these moments where nothing makes sense and you realise, it doesn’t have to. The voices that others planted in your head saying “why aren’t you at work” are silenced by the shimmer of the ripples, the peaceful sound of birds and running water.
Maybe sometimes not giving a moment to others opinions is alright.Maybe just do you, and everything will be fine.#travel #relax #mentalhealth #spa #sunshine #newzealand

It started with that amber light. The kind that t

It started with that amber light.
The kind that turns fenceposts into relics and paddocks into poetry. The kind of light you chase and rarely catch - on the outskirts of Cust, where the river snakes like an old scar across the Canterbury Plains. The winter light, not cold but cool.A sky so wide it made you feel small.Chasing the last of the day. The river below, lazy and indifferent, like it had all the time in the world. Cattle trails carved lines into the damp post-autumn earth, and smoke hung in the distance like a memory refusing to let go.
You could see all the way to the Southern Alps those jagged white teeth biting into a salmon-pink and deep blue sky.As the sun began its slow descent, the smoke began to cover. Low and deliberate, curling out from a farmer’s burn-off somewhere beyond the tree line. It wasn’t aggressive. It didn’t rush. It just came on, soft and blue-grey, washing over the landscape like a half-forgotten story.There was something in it. In the way the smoke caught the light. In the way the cold bit at my cheeks while everything below me burned with that impossible, fleeting gold. The Alps stood watch, ancient and impassive, and the river below whispered things you only understand if you’ve walked this land in boots caked with mud and stories.It wasn’t beauty. Not exactly. It was something quieter. Something that got under your skin. A moment that didn’t perform - it just was.And in that silence, above the earth and beneath the sky, I felt it settle into me.
A deep unshakable sense of belonging.
Of being nowhere else.
Of knowing that this was home.

A year ago, I landed at Stansted with nothing but

A year ago, I landed at Stansted with nothing but a carry-on, a sense of curiosity, and zero plans.I’d come from Ireland, thinking it was just another long weekend. I had no idea London was about to rewrite everything.The train from the airport hummed through green fields and satellite towns until the city appeared, stretching into the sky like it had been waiting for me.London doesn’t throw its arms around you. It nudges you forward, grinning. As if to say, “Go on then, let’s see what you’ve got.”I stepped out and just started walking. Past the quiet dignity of Blackfriars, toward the wide, steady sweep of the Thames. The history felt vivid, like a curtain being drawn back to reveal an open window for you to breathe it all in.Then came Borough Market. You hear it before you see it.
Voices layered over the scent of spiced lamb, melting cheese, fresh herbs crushed underfoot. It smelled like possibility.
Like someone somewhere was about to hand you the best thing you’ve ever eaten and say, “Try this.”The walk carried me across Tower Bridge, where history doesn’t stand still, it leans into you.The stone was warm in the sun, and for a moment, I stood there watching the boats drift under and felt something shift. Like the start of a very good chapter.That night, I wandered into a pub without a name I can remember, ordered a pint, and sat next to strangers who became fast friends.We swapped stories, laughed too loud, and stayed long after the streetlamps blinked on. Everything felt alive. The kind of night you don’t plan, only stumble into.What I didn’t know, what I couldn’t have imagined, was that four months later I’d be living here. Working. Walking these same streets like I’d always belonged. Some might call it luck. Others, a dream. But really, it felt like saying yes to the right kind of unknown.London didn’t just open a door. It handed me the keys.

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