I’m Peter Lyons and I’m an architectural and maritime photographer. I feel incredibly fortunate to make my living as a visual creative, doing something I truly love to do.

My day-to-day happily includes quite a bit of variety. Sometimes I'm on-location photographing a home or business with an interior designer, architect, builder, or real estate broker. Other times I'm at a seaport or on a shoreline somewhere shooting a tanker for a ship’s agent or a container ship for a cargo handler or shipping line. A few times a year I shoot sailing regattas. I shoot from the ground, from boats, helicopters, planes, and drones. And yeah, plenty of days and nights I'm in front of my computer like everyone else, editing (lots of editing) or emailing or Zooming, taking care of all the behind-the-scenes stuff that needs to happen for a business to run.

I love the “people” part of my work. One of the greatest serendipities of this gig is all the cool, talented, kind people I get to collaborate with. Sometimes it’s someone I work with again and again. Other times it’s someone I’ll meet once and never see again. Either way, I value the creative exchange. I’m not the prima-donna photographer who needs every detail and decision to go my way—I welcome the back-and-forth of ideas and believe the best work happens when more than one brain is engaged. Whenever possible, I shoot tethered to one or two monitors so everyone on set can see what the camera sees, weigh in, and help shape the final image.

My lifelong love of the ocean has led me into maritime photography, which continues to be a fascinating and rewarding branch of my work. Whether I'm photographing massive vessels and tugs in a seaport or documenting a quiet sunrise in a working harbor, I love getting glimpses into an industry that runs so much of the world behind the scenes—and the people who keep it moving.

At home in Petaluma, California, I live with my wife Caroline, a career school administrator now with UC Berkeley. We have a big, blended crew of eight adult kids and, somehow, a growing pack of grandkids—despite being far too young for that to be possible.