Stop and Smell the Roses

After a year and a half glued to my phone, consumed by bad news and my own thoughts, this solo trip—and a gifted camera—shifted my focus. I couldn’t stop and smell the roses myself, but I found solace in capturing others as they did, through my own lens.

I had been on a long hiatus from enjoying photography; I had started to feel disconnected, like something I had lost touch with. Moreover, the past year and a half, I was stuck in a loop—glued to my phone, consuming overwhelming news, and unable to fully engage with the world around me.

Then, right before a solo trip in June, I was gifted my first film camera. I didn’t suddenly find clarity, but I found a way to look outward. I realized I couldn’t bring myself to stop and take in the small, beautiful moments of life—but I could capture others doing so. My camera became my way of seeing people pause, reflect, and simply exist in a moment of stillness. Whether it was someone gazing at a sunset, admiring a breeze under trees, or out and about on a dark loud street, these small acts of presence became my focus.

In the process, photography slowly started to feel meaningful again. The act of savoring moments—of holding still, watching, and waiting for a memory worth saving on film—taught me how to stop and breathe, how to appreciate a moment even if I wasn’t the one living in it. And somewhere along the way, the journey of capturing these memories brought me joy and peace, too.