My journey in photography began, like many others, with a CCD point-and-shoot that captured 5 megapixels of blurry, grainy shit that I never wanted to look at again. Later came the enthusiast compacts, and then, at last, my first interchangeable-lens camera: a Micro Four Thirds.
I loved that system immensely. The bodies were small but capable, the IBIS was superb, the primes were light and fast, and the second-hand market was vibrant. But time passed, and I began to crave something more. I upgraded to a Sony full-frame.
My A7III felt invincible: lightning-fast autofocus, deep dynamic range, flawless results in near darkness. It was the camera that could do everything, until I realised that doing everything doesn’t always mean feeling something. Travel with it long enough, and the weight starts to shift, not only on your shoulders, but on your spirit.
I adored the images, but not the process. The ritual of offloading RAW files, of editing for hours, of trying to reconstruct the emotion I had once felt — it all began to feel like work. It just couldn’t freeze the moment I experienced and let me relive it later.
That’s where phone apps like Dazz Cam began to shine. On recent trips, I found myself posting more photos taken on my iPhone than on my camera. And when I want to relive a particular moment, those are often the images I revisit, not the technically perfect RAW files.
Still, I couldn’t let go of “real” cameras. I considered going back to Micro Four Thirds, but its evolution had stalled. Then came an insight: perhaps APS-C is the sweet spot. Modern sensor tech should give enough dynamic range and noise control even in smaller sensors. Especially in a system designed only for APS-C, where lenses can be made smaller and lighter without having to accommodate full-frame constraints like flange distance.
So I followed my belief. I first picked up a Ricoh GR IIIx, then a Fujifilm X-E5. I’ve loved both without hesitation, and the image quality has more than met my expectations.
Many Gen Z now chase nostalgia, returning to early digital CCDs in search of “soul”. I understand the sentiment, but I’ve lived through that era: the slow focus, the grainy files, the disappointment disguised as charm. I’m not interested in recreating limitations. I’m interested in rediscovering joy.
In finding less, I think I’ve found more.
Shot on iPhone