I was anxious. That’s the word to describe how I felt today when I finally held my first “serious” camera in my hands (I'm now a Micro Four Thirds user!). I had been shooting with basic point-and-shoot cameras for a few years until now, as I travelled from country to country. The experiences had always come first, while photography had always been a distant second. “Live, and then shoot, if you have some time” was my motto as I packed my bags and moved from one place to another, the small camera buried beneath piles of clothes and books.
Do I regret not having more shots from that period? That’s a tricky question: I enjoyed every moment I spent at every place, and they stay vividly in my mind. However, memory is wilful and not always reliable: photography can help it to remain sharp, and awake. Maybe I have lost things that I could otherwise retain, had I snapped a picture back then.
That’s how I see it now: I haven’t changed priorities, joining the thousands of ramblers who seem to travel around the globe (or their neighbourhood) for the only sake of taking pictures, whatever they might be, forgetting to “live” those moments in the meantime; I have learnt that both are intertwined and cannot be separated: “live while shooting, and shoot while living” could sum it up.
And so, new walks are about to start. But this time I will always have my camera in hand, legs and hands working together, advancing, seeing, strolling, framing, running, snapping. And, along the way, along the shutter presses, multiple smiles, and talks, and surprises. I'm sure of it.
Here it begins a diary of little discoveries and walks full of images. No matter if you travel far or just around the corner, the line between routine and adventure is indeed thin. It’s up to you which side to venture into.