Ryan Goff

Riverside ripples - 0.5 shutter - 7:29am this morning - Can confirm, a Badger wasn’t chasing me

Fleeting textures from imperfections. A sweeping surge of creative energy recently. Love riding the wave when it does. Here, joy finds me rolling dice with Spring, once again. #slowshutter #spring #countryside #abstractexpressionist

This image was an accident, the sort where the camera settings don’t make sense. Though, out of the hundreds of shots I took last night, dancing around 20 square meters of Bluebells in the dying light, it is this moment that makes sense. I’ve been lucky to travel to many places in the world with my job, but there’s something about Spring in the UK that steals my heart every time. I’ve always wanted to capture the charm and essence of it in an image, to pay homage to the feeling it gifts us. Where life breathes birth, and our sun graces us with warmth. It’s rare I’m 100% happy with my work, classic imposter syndrome, but this image is a moment that feels timeless, I want to climb inside the frame and be. It’s a wonderful 1/2 second shutter accident and I like that. I hope everyone is vibing in this newness 🌞

Over the past two year’s in-between life happening, I’ve danced in and out of a passion project with my uncle, and for a long time an invisible forcefield stopped me from finishing it. Though when I allowed myself to be okay with the creative process, to bow to all its nuances, I began to trust my vision and embody a long lost confidence in my filmmaking. It’s been more than just making a film, it gave my uncle hope and a glimmer in his eyes I’d not seen for year’s. That alone is why I make films, why I create. I want to tell stories, and I want people to feel a connection to the soul and spirit that exists within them. The teaser follows after my intro. It’s a small segment extracted from the main film. Between Two Wheels will initially be submitted to film festivals, with the hope to eventually release it to the public later down the line. I’ll be posting more updates and segments in the following weeks! Cheers!

I made a little something. I wanted to challenge myself to the limitations of winter, to dance with stillness and remember the feeling of making something pure and true to me. It’s fleeting and is a little nod to my roots from a place of curiosity wandering with a camera all those years ago. So with bated breath, here’s a little short. Marrying my words with visuals filmed through the depths of winter. Enjoy 🙂 #staycurious #sherwoodforest #cinematography #shortfilm #winter

Where shadows flicker on textures and tea is served on the rocks. Isn’t it an amazing thing to sit around a fire, an enabler of no judgement where barriers fall to form a togetherness, in any corner of the world. More In between moments from Wadi Rum, Jordan. @coldhouse_ / @pertexfabric

Slowing down for frosted ferns and falling leaves. Some frames from still moments up the woods. Best viewed with sound turned on. #winteriscoming #sherwoodforest

There are many fond memories that are tied with my creative journey. Digging into the archive of forgotten made me realise how these experiences shaped my view on the world and how important it is to have a solid team to work with. Here, where sand meets stone, Wadi Rum has a special place in my heart. We lived in the desert, surrounded by moonlike mountains where the Bedouin treated us like family. This @coldhouse_ shoot for @pertexfabric was from 2017 for a film aptly named Shifting Sands. It focused on a cultural exchange of modern day climbing techniques with traditional Bedouin culture. Moving forward I’m going to make an effort to share more of the stuff that makes me smile looking back. To champion making stuff, collaborating with awesome people and sharing beautiful parts of the world I’ve been so lucky to work in. Blessed. 1st image: Tom Carr-Griffin #bts #filmmaking #wadirumdesert #dune #jordan #sony #cinematography #adventure

Life in film post New Zealand. Loving the process of creating pure moments the old school way. Big love to my people. #kodak #kodakcolorplus200 #candid #film #35mm

When a boulder falls… Ending I am reluctant to step out my cocoon, I call it slug mode and it offers warmth, though mobility is important here so I’ll stand and hop and watch the mountains change from the hut window. They’re soft for once, or perhaps the coffee hasn’t hit yet. It’s 6 am, Earth is doing that funny thing again, where no sky is the same. Through the smile lines of a lacquered red face, you’ll find a pair of beards sleep-deprived but alive.  Our day has one goal, to reach the road before dark. 25km of New Zealand’s wilderness. Cold wet boots squelch down the valley, leaving prints for a fleeting moment. Corrosion is all around and my world is fixated on the rocks beneath my feet. Like an Otter finding a pebble, I am seeking treasure to pocket. Fragmented formations to adorn the windowsill. Before long, rocks break to stones and stones grind to scree. Scree is cursed for good reason in the whispers of climbers. I dash upwards whilst sinking at the same time. It’s a no man’s land where fear is served on the rocks. As it gets steeper, I look up at a slumbering boulder, ancient and menacing. I have no intention to stand and contemplate. I test it in an act of swiftness, then pull. Awakened, its two-ton weight comes crashing down. I attempt to move, but it’s no use. The crush is unfathomable. For a moment, I feel smug, as if I’d taken a hit from Tyson. Though adrenaline does funny things. I look down to see my arm dangling jelly-like and a leg more swollen than a puffer fish.  I retreat within and let the cavalry of woes consume me.  [continued in comments]

When a boulder falls… Part 3 Yesterday, on my daily hobble around the block I noticed an electric scooter parked on the pavement. Part of me had a curiosity to step on and let the engine do the work, I’m tired and frustrated that my leg isn’t functioning but something in me said no. Taking the easy route is the most convenient thing to do, especially in a world short wired for instantaneous results. As I shuffle past, the meters ahead gift my body with movement, allowing the clouds to break free in my mind. Rewind 8 weeks How we welcome the manmade despite being on a journey to escape it. Fickle we may be, though tonight Barker hut will be home. The original Barker hut was built by the hands of 43 men in the 1940s, hauling weighty fabrications and materials up the White River, clambering over skittish rock and eventually assembling at the site. It is inconceivable to imagine the task at hand and the work involved. All to provide a safe passage for greater heights. The Barker hut seen today was rebuilt in the 90s with significant upgrades, all made possible by Helicopters. As we scrambled to our goal, the crunch of feet and beating heart lessened. Kea screech at our presence, reminding us that this space is to be shared. Surrounding us is a theatre of great heights, yet there is a stillness. Like walking out the iron gates to a desolate coliseum. We stepped foot into what felt like a sanctuary frozen in time, as if enchanted by a wizard, and there was an eerie sense of serenity. A tarn created the illusion of a deeper space. My hands, feet, and mind all numbed by the cold charm of this place, but strangely, it warmed the soul. One of the best ways to cure a spell-struck mind is tea, warm tea misting the windows from within. Home comforts are bliss in the simplicity of adventure and so is the calming of the mind. Little did we know it was to be the calm before the storm.

When a boulder falls…Part 2

What makes a river so mesmerising? Is it the glass-like texture, the fluidity, the passing of time, or the white noise? To me, a it is a cure for a wandering mind. Whatever a river is to someone, it is also a prehistoric connection. We tread upstream along its boundless edges as we are gifted with pockets of the clearest blue. How can something be so beautifully destructive? Eventually we find a crossing spot, @jaretfoster commits first, he steps into the water and turns to me, presenting his walking pole as a support to cross, without it I’d have been pretty screwed. The force of the river is unrelenting. He yells, “you’ll dry, but your camera won’t” as he passes me the pole. The cold water seeps through the gaps in my boots, its a welcoming feeling and my feet thank me for a momentary numbness. Before long, a menacing mass of rock reveals itself at the end of the valley. If you squinted enough, you could just about see a hut proudly sitting on top, teasing us as it veiled in and out of the clouds; this was our destination. Between us and the hut was an unforgiving space, an amphitheatre of the gargantuan. It is easy to feel fear in the backcountry, each step is met with reassurance of the next, despite a lingering feeling of fear. Senses are heightened for a reason, and risk is met with little reward. The deeper we go, the more challenging navigation becomes. Piles of rocks offer guidance, yet riddled in this space is ancient proof of the collapsed colossal, shaped by tectonic plates over millions of years. Despite this ever-changing shift in time and space, what remains in the imagination is an enigmatic pursuit of curiosity, a dance of some sort, to feel irrelevant yet alive.