Portions of this photograph slightly remind me of Chinese art - specifically the "shan shui" (mountain-water) style of landscape painting, which has been depicting mist-shrouded peaks, layered mountains fading into fog, and dramatic vertical rock formations since the Song dynasty (10th–13th century). We have all eaten in a restaurant with walls adorned with this kind of wallpaper. The food may not have been memorable, but the decor - however kitsch - holds a place in our visual databank.

That, however, is where the similarities end with this image which was taken high up in the San Juan mountains of Colorado close to the fabled mining town of Silverton. We are a long way from China.

My creative goal is always to make the frame full and for every inch to own its place and in this case, I think we achieved what we set out to do. It lives and breathes cinema and that was my intent.

The master Ansel Adams told us all, “Make photographs, don’t take photographs” and it was with humble accord that I made this. It is a high-energy photograph, and we were all energized on set. These are the moments that as an artist I cherish: working at sunrise; 9000 feet up in a deep canyon with a tight crew of cowboys and trying to create a little magic.

Not many people have filmed here because access is a challenge; it requires going the extra mile both literally and metaphorically. As I get older, I sense that that really is the best way to grab the attention of others; we live in a content spoilt world which dismisses the mundane.

Spielberg once said, “his biggest fear was to be mundane” and if he worries, then we all should. I certainly work on the basis that a good starting premise is to be paranoid about taking boring photographs. I think a degree of insecurity is a good creative building block and ultimately if that leads to results like this, that professional mindset is validated.