I got into street photography almost by accident. I'd be out walking — through the airport on a layover, down a rainy lane in the city — and I'd catch a moment that felt too good to let pass: light hitting a stranger at just the right angle, two people's stories colliding in a frame for a split second. The camera gave me permission to stop and notice. Now I can't really walk anywhere without looking for those moments.
What I love about it is that it's not about the extraordinary. It's the opposite. It's the everyday stuff we usually walk straight past — a tired commuter on the train, market stalls at first light, someone glancing out a window — and finding the beauty in it. Street photography is basically a love letter to ordinary life, and every frame is a tiny argument that your regular Tuesday is worth paying attention to.
I shoot the way I like to write: fast, loose, and honest. No staged scenes, no perfect setups. Just me, a camera, and whatever the street happens to offer that day. Some days you come home with nothing; other days a single frame makes it all worth it. That unpredictability is half the fun — and it's why I'll never stop carrying a camera when I go out.