The quiet pursuit: Embracing life’s subtleties

To me, photography has always been a simple indulgence in a world overflowing with complex human experiences.

From my earliest memories growing up in Macedonia, I’ve used photography to bottle up fragments of time, making each a tiny capsule of the things that mean to me the most. Writing about this personal connection feels a little strange, though. Partly because it’s hard to put into words the way photography layers itself into my life, but mostly because I’ve always only thought of it as my second nature. A way to quiet the mind, the maddening hunger for adventure and exploration. There’s an almost sacred quality to it, something I rarely share.

Perhaps this bond took root in my chilhood. Life in Macedonia moved slowly, but never felt small. There’s a certain stillness in close-knit communities that encourages you to notice the details; to soak in the sunlight spilling through trees on a mountain hike, savor the comforting sounds of a bustling kitchen before a family meal, or revel in the laughter shared over unplanned walks with friends. My grandpa seemed to understand this intuitively. With his camera always nearby, he documented our lives as if every moment, no matter how ordinary, deserved its place in memory.

Looking back, I realize these moments planted the seed for what photography would become to me. I remember constantly reaching for my dad’s flip phone to take pictures or record quick videos, in an attempt to capture everyone I loved. The small, everyday moments that I feared would slip away in an instant. Those early snaps were my keepsakes, and over time, as life drifted and people faded from my days, they became a way to hold onto memories I could never recreate.

I got my first real camera in high school, a Nikon D3300, and suddenly, the world seemed alive with possibilities. I could capture it with more precision and depth. I still remember the excitement of my first day with it, the thrill of framing my first shot. It felt like finding a key to a door no one else had access to. It was then that photography became an invitation to explore, to lean into curiosity, to see the familiar in new ways. But it wasn’t until 2022, fresh out of college, that I picked up my Fujifilm X100V. That camera became my companion in a way the Nikon hadn’t. It felt intuitive, light, almost like an extension of myself. Since then, the X100V has become my go-to, a camera I trust to capture the stillness of a scene, or the quiet nostalgia that seems to linger all around. Fujis are just in a world of their own, and the way they render colors and light is unlike anything I’d known.

Not long after getting the X100V, I booked a solo trip to Lisbon. What began as a short stint volunteering at a youth center, turned into something much more. Portugal swept me off my feet, and Lisbon quickly became a place of belonging, where my passion for photography took root in new ways. I arrived with a sense of adventure, but it was the city’s culture and its people that grounded me. Under a near-constant sun, I found friendships that feel like family. There’s something about Lisbon that invites you to embrace who you are without reservation. Days blurred into evenings filled with laughter at miradouros and feiras, sunset gazing over sweeping city views, and quiet moments wandering through little parks, praças, or narrow, cobbled streets. In many ways, Lisbon became a place where I’ve been able to blend my origins with newfound individuality.

Living in Portugal, endless inspiration creeps in in countless ways.The old-world charm of the streets, the mix of past and present, and the proximity to the ocean. There’s so much beauty in everything here. Each corner has offered a unique embrace, almost like the country itself wraps anyone who steps foot in its warmth. The misty forests of Madeira, the volcanic lakes of the Azores, and the golden cliffs of the Algarve, all full of natural beauty and the kind of calm that makes you feel small in the best way.

Beyond the well-trodden paths, I feel deep appreciation for the quieter areas where life unfolds at its own pace. Small seaside towns, hidden trails, and untamed beaches expose a side that feels more intimate and personal. These are the places where solitude is at its purest and sweetest. In those moments– praciting yoga, hiking, camping under open skies, cycling along rugged cliffs, or swimming in secluded waters– I find myself creating my best work.

I’m grateful to say that each place I’ve travelled to has left a profound mark on me, not just through its natural beauty, but through the warmth of its people and the stories they share. It’s in these moments of human connection– simple, unguarded, and universal– that I feel most drawn to the world around me, no matter where I am.

My approach to post-processing mainly revolves around Adobe Lightroom, which I use to boost shadows, bring warmth to highlights, or adjust tones until they mirror how the moment felt. I tend to lean into warmer, earthy tones and never really follow any rules or formulas, but edit based on instinct and mood until the result resonates. I love using the Classic Negative and Classic Chrome profiles, which have a natural softness, and I experiment with color temperature to bring out different moods and atmospheres. Over the years, I’ve designed my own presets and film simulations, which I’ll be sharing soon on my Instagram account and website.

At the end of the day, photography is how I communicate with the world. It’s a reflection of the way I see life, with all its beauty and complexity. I photograph because it gives me a sense of connection to the world around me, and to the people who view my work. It allows me to share my perspective, to invite others into life’s subtleties. And through this lens, I hope to show not just what I see, but how it feels to be in the world at that very moment.