With social media always within reach, scrolling through feeds became part of my daily routine. For years, I kept refreshing timelines, watching bits of other people’s lives, and comparing myself to them. Over time, I noticed these habits were taking up my time and energy, and even eroding my sense of who I was. That’s when I chose to stop scrolling and find joy in non-electronic hobbies again.

Today, we see countless images every day: portraits, landscapes, and moments from daily life, all competing for our attention. Yet we rarely think about the effort and choices that go into each photo. Every picture we like has its own story, a process that often goes unnoticed in our fast-paced, digital world.

With so many flawless images and picture-perfect moments everywhere, I’ve often felt let down when my own photos didn’t look the way I hoped. But over time, I’ve learned that sometimes pictures just don’t turn out well, and that’s completely okay…

The first time I truly trusted autofocus, I was standing on a busy street, camera in hand, trying to capture the fleeting expressions of passersby in afternoon light. It was a moment ripe with potential, yet my fingers hesitated. Tentatively, I pressed the shutter, and the result was a revelation—a crisp, perfectly timed photograph I couldn't have captured alone.

The other day, I was reading the blog post “Not being able to see very clearly is believing” written by Joerg Colberg, and it made me ask myself a question - why do people find lo-fi video and mobile phone images more believable?