I never thought of being a musician when I was younger. I started off my career at a production house with [veteran art director] Eke Eiamchuen right after I graduated from Thai Vichitsilp Art Institute.

English is necessary, whatever your career path. I decided to go to England to study English, which also gave me the chance to study photography.

Those classes were the best I’ve ever taken. At first, I had no idea whether I would like it. As a test, they asked me to take photos of anything using two rolls of black and white film. I passed and eventually fell in love with the art. I also formed an indie band there, but it didn’t last as the other members quit school to pursue their musical dreams.

I returned to Bangkok to work as a fashion photographer. I got a freelance gig at Metro Magazine where I met [glam-pop star] Gene Kasidit, who was a writer there, and Roong [Roongroj Ooppa-tampotivat, bassist of the band Crub and founder of Smallroom Records]. He asked me to contribute to Smallroom’s first compilation album, Smallroom 001 [2002], even though I was more focused on photography.

I prefer shooting film, but that doesn’t mean I’m anti-digital. I’m just accustomed to it and I also trust the quality, mood and tone of film.

Stills are such an underrated part of the film production process. Nonzee Nimibutr asked me to take some promotional shots for his film Jan Dara [2001]. I realized that the first images you send out to the public can really influence people’s decision to watch the final film.

I am always understanding of other people’s jobs, but others aren’t so accommodating. I had a conflict with a film’s PR rep who asked me to take behind-the-scenes photos of the cast during their down-time. I saw no reason in doing that as it didn’t say anything about the film. Queens of Langkasuka [2008] was the last film I worked on before deciding to take my music more seriously.

“Why are your lyrics always so dark?” That’s a question I’m constantly asked. I’ve got no reply except to say they reflect the truth. If my life was some happy ending love story, I would probably write differently. But it isn’t like that in reality.

Writing my song “Pap Shin Ta” was one of the toughest experiences of my life. One of my closest friends had just lost his wife in an accident. He was lost and drowning in sorrow, which also affected me emotionally. Although I was just an observer, I wanted to compose a song that truly captured his feelings.

I’m not a fan of reading, so I don’t have the biggest vocabulary when it comes to composing songs.

No matter how beautifully you can sing or how well-composed your lyrics are, nothing tops actually believing in the songs you sing. This helps build rapport with your audience who will come to understand you better.

Love is a beautiful thing that makes your heart race every time you find it. I’m sure everyone agrees. But you can’t expect a fairy tale ending every day, so why live in a dream? I’m certainly not turning my back on love, though.

My life has unfolded by chance, from being a photographer to making music and, most recently, starring in a film. I thought it was a joke when Kongdej [Jaturanrasamee]’s assistant asked me to audition for P-047. He’s a famous director, I was afraid I’d screw it up. I was so excited when we started filming, but a little paranoid about whether I would do well enough.

Don’t let emotions get the better of you. When I started work on my new album, I hit a block, I thought I would never be able to write a song again. I became so down that I questioned my abilities and whether my whole career had just been a fluke. After I got my head in check, I took a trip back to London, things got better and I started to write again.

Making a new album feels like updating an old friend on my life. It wasn’t my intention but most of my new songs talk about journeys, probably because the bulk of them were composed overseas.

I don’t have dreams of becoming anything. Right now I’m just happy to have what I have and do what I love. Who knows what’s going to happen in the next five years, or even next year.

Hosting an art exhibition is the only thing I’m really looking forward to. I hope to make it happen by the beginning of next year. I got the idea when I went to Tibet as part of the production team for Shambhala. I was recruited to compose the soundtrack, so I took a lot of photos, made field recordings and just captured the ambiance. It was so beautiful. I’ve put together a photo collection that is mixed with these sounds. I really want to share what I experienced.

I’m still far from a success. It’s hard to measure. But I’m happy right now, as with each gig I play my audience seems to be growing, which gives me a very warm feeling.