Photowalks is My Version of Walking the Dog
Sometimes people ask why I go out and take photos so often.
Not in a professional way. Not because I have a client waiting. Just walking around with a camera, looking at things most people pass by without noticing.
And the truth is, photography has become a way to clean my head. I believe this is true for me and many others.
Some people have a dog they need to walk every day. Others have a partner who drags them outside for fresh air. A reason to leave the house, to move, to reset the mind.
For me, the camera plays that role. It’s my excuse to go out.
Not in a dramatic way. Just a quiet agreement with myself that I’ll take a walk and see what the world looks like today. Sometimes it’s an hour. Sometimes two. Rarely more. And honestly, that’s more than enough. You don’t need six or seven hours wandering the city to take good photographs. In fact, the shorter walks often become the most focused ones.
Because photography is not really about taking pictures all the time. It’s about training your attention.
One trick I like to use is giving myself a small mission before I even leave the house. Something simple. Maybe reflections. Maybe shadows. Maybe mannequins in shop windows. Maybe just one color. When you limit yourself like that, something interesting happens. Your brain begins to hunt for it.
It’s the same phenomenon as when someone tells you to look for a yellow car. Suddenly, they are everywhere. Not because there are more of them, but because your brain is tuned to notice them.
Photography works the same way.
The more specific you are with what you’re searching for, the more the world begins to reveal it. And while you’re walking, looking, searching, something else happens quietly in the background. Your mind clears. Problems shrink. Thoughts reorganize themselves.
You become present.
Another small trick that helps me a lot is music.
I often walk with headphones and listen to film soundtracks. Not chart music, not radio. Just atmosphere. The kind of music that creates a mood.
A Blade Runner soundtrack can suddenly make a rainy street feel cinematic. A darker soundtrack might make you notice shadows and empty alleys. Sometimes it even feels like you’re walking inside a scene from a movie. And then your eye starts looking for images that match that feeling.
In 2025, the camera that joined me on most of these walks was the Leica Q2 Monochrome. It quietly became my photo companion. Not because it is the most advanced camera in the world, but because it is simple and honest. Black and white. No distractions. Just light and shadow.
Most of those walks were solo walks. Just me, the city, the music in my headphones, and the camera in my hand.
And somewhere between those quiet streets and small moments, photography becomes something more than just photography.
It becomes a reason to go outside. A reason to observe. A reason to breathe. And sometimes that’s exactly what we need.
