Taking my hobby around the world. Occasionally taking it out of the bag.

My camera has been travelling through Asia with me for months. It’s seen a lot of the inside of my backpack.

Georgia (May 12, 2026) was the last time I used it. In between Kazakhstan. Thailand. Vietnam. Different places where I thought about taking photos, carried the camera around, and left it exactly where it was.

Together with the lenses. Because apparently this particular form of doing nothing requires equipment.

It’s heavy. I often take the camera compartment out before going somewhere, but plenty of times I walk around with the whole thing. The camera gets an excursion. I get the weight.

And the annoying part? I fucking love photographing.

I’ve had different cameras for about 10 years. I love making images. I love editing them afterwards, playing with the frame and the colours, finding a story in what I saw and then showing it to friends.

So… what are we doing here, Daniel?

First, a subway station

Taiwan has been getting to me. I deeply love all this stuff happening around us, and I kinda know I’ll regret leaving without taking any photos.

We were leaving Kaohsiung when I saw a bulletin board across the subway platform. Lit up, with this huge dark ceiling above it. Then a yellow exit sign beside a pillar, the light running diagonally through the frame.

I took out my phone.

That was it. Saw something. Wanted to photograph it. Did.

A day later, evening light on a building.

Then yesterday a doorway with offerings (pork belly, chicken, fish and more. what a feast!), all these colours and things happening in one little place.

Somewhere between the selfies with Noela and the food photos, I’m photographing a dark subway ceiling. On purpose.

“Artsy”, apparently. But yes, that’s what it felt like. And I wanted to do more of it.

And over a few days, that turned into charging the camera batteries.

Today I took it out in the hotel room before we left. Started photographing. Casually. No stress. Felt great.

When I have the camera in my hands, I look completely differently at my surroundings. I spot things. I look for opportunities. I’m more in the world.

I haven’t even checked the pictures yet. I’ll do that for this article. But I already know I enjoyed making them.

Then we had lunch.

The tonkatsu intermission

At Akira, tonkatsu sets. Breaded cutlets on little wire racks, shredded cabbage, rice with black sesame on top. Tofu, mushrooms, red bowls of soup. The whole table full.

I packed the camera away and gave the tonkatsu my full attention. Zero resistance there.

Afterwards we explored Anping. More potentially interesting stuff. At some point I thought about getting the camera out again.

The light isn’t good now.

Ah yes. The light. Apparently we have standards this afternoon.

I know it’s a stupid excuse. I can hear myself saying it. Morning light, evening light, whatever… somewhere I’ve probably overdone the whole idea that the images should be great and the conditions should justify taking them.

We kept exploring. The camera and lenses came along on my back.

Hours later, still packed.

I need to be free. Whatever that means.

I observed a thing… the more stressed I am, the less I photograph. Or let’s say it differently: it feels like I need to be free to do it.

Free how? I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to find out.

Painting feels similar. Writing this article feels similar. There’s a specific mood or state, and when I’m in it, I love doing it. I’d like to have that more often. Even just taking 3 pictures and putting the camera away again would be nice.

But before starting, it can feel like effort. A burden. Like it “needs to be worth it”.

Taking out the camera feels like committing to doing photography. And somehow that comes with pressure. The phone pictures came naturally in the moment. The dedicated camera seems to arrive with additional paperwork.

I haven’t found the paperwork. I just feel like I’m supposed to have filled it out.

And before I get too comfortable with the explanation that I simply need to wait for the right mood… Bangkok.

Stressed as fuck. Lovely day.

Almost a year ago I booked a photo excursion there. Paid to spend time with a photographer and walk through his Bangkok.

I was stressed as fuck beforehand. There was resistance. I went anyway.

We walked through his Bangkok. He told stories. I took photos. Afterwards I edited them and sent them to friends and to him. Got amazing feedback. I was super happy with the images.

A whole day given to this. Money spent on it. Work left alone. And I was happy I’d gone, especially because there’d been resistance beforehand. It felt like growing.

So… which mood was I supposed to wait for?

The part I can’t explain

I tried talking this through with AI tonight. At one point he/she/it (das s muss mit) asked me to imagine taking 3 unremarkable pictures, enjoying looking around for a few minutes, and putting the camera away.

I read it and felt a flash through my body. Unpleasant. I would love to be able to do that!

More questions. Would stopping feel unfinished? Would I feel I hadn’t followed through properly?

By then I was annoyed.

The calling it done was never an issue. Doesn’t matter if 3 or 300 pictures. It’s the starting.

The starting.

I rationally know I can just get the camera out. I know the light doesn’t have to be perfect. I can make that argument as many times as I want and I’ll agree with it every time. Meanwhile, the camera still stays in the backpack so many times.

That’s about as far as I’ve got.

I want more of how this morning felt. Looking around, spotting things, being there. And editing, seeing what I can make out of today’s images and showing them to people.

At least the camera finally has something from Taiwan on it.

P.S. I’ve edited the photos now. Almost exclusively clutter. Apparently I carried all that stuff around Asia so I could photograph other people’s stuff.