Memories come and go. It’s too biologically dependent. In five seconds to sixty, you would’ve forgotten the exact context of the lyrics of “Weight of the World.” Our memories are triggered by stimuli that surrounds us, like scent, sight, taste, and most times, music. I’ve always indexed my memories through the music track that was played closest to the moment. It usually is a theme song on a trip, or an event, even when I meet people; although the more you play it, the less memories get retained. So, I’ve incorporated taking photos of my travels, experiences, and people I met since last year. I’ve gone to many trips, and I’ve taken many photos using my phone.

The decision, however, to switch to a camera has been much more recent. I’ve wanted to emulate how my mother used to preserve memories: through pictures printed from her negatives and placed inside a photo album. I remember, when I bring home guests, the first thing she hands them isn’t a drink, it’s the albums—albums spanning from childhood to the most recent one.

It’s been years since my Mum put her film camera down. It’s been ages since I’ve seen her shoot film. She does, occasionally take photos using a compact digital camera, and has them printed. It’s her way of satisfying the preservation of memories she started.

And so, I thought I wanted to continue what she loved doing and start taking better photos using a camera, than my phone. It would give me a better edge on editing, and the possibility of printing them on a large format, with very little issues. I took some classes online, and in photography schools to learn and hone my craft. I’ve even joined travel groups organized by photographers to learn more from them and take great photos along the way. I've met so many amazing people.

The road is long, and there is still so much to learn. But my intent to keep and document memories in a form of photos have never been stronger. I feel more connected to my Mum, when I take photos, and it gives me great joy to give her honor.

Heck, I even use her old lens, occasionally.