1. The guerrilla tea room.

Picture this: a traditional Japanese tea ceremony, but instead of a serene temple, it's happening in the middle of a crowded airport terminal. Or on the Great Wall. Or in a Brazilian favela. That's exactly what artist Pierre Sernet is doing with his project "One". Armed with a dozen wooden sticks, a tatami mat, and a tea set, Sernet creates a “guerrilla tea room” in the most unexpected places, inviting complete strangers to pause their lives and share a moment over a cup of tea.

The resulting photographs feel like scenes from a beautiful glitch in the matrix – the intimate ritual of tea preparation set against the chaos of everyday life. There's something almost surreal about seeing two people finding stillness in the middle of a desert or beneath the neon lights of a city, connected by nothing more than hot water and dried leaves. It's a reminder that sometimes the most powerful way to experience a tradition isn't to preserve it behind closed doors, but to let it loose in the wild and see what happens when it meets modern life.

2. When the photobomb becomes art.

Creative duo The Surfers have turned a quirky family memory into a heartfelt tribute to the charm of imperfection. Inspired by old snapshots where grandma’s finger always seemed to sneak into the frame, they created Nonna’s Cam: an analog camera featuring a hyper-realistic finger that partially covers the lens, just like those classic, imperfect photos. It’s a clever nod to Erik Kessels’ Attack of the Giant Finger, blending nostalgia with a playful twist.

To make it feel authentic, they sourced a hyper-realistic finger from Germany, with a gold ring for that extra touch of Nonna-style flair. With Nonna’s Cam, some photos are comically obscured, leaving us to imagine what’s beyond the finger—whether it’s an overweight seagull or a mysterious wave on the horizon. In the creative process, small accidents often lead to unexpected magic, and in a world obsessed with perfection, embracing flaws might just be the most human thing we can do.

3. The 100,000 faces of South Street.

There's something magnetic about street portraits – I discovered this early in my photography journey, falling down endless rabbit holes of Diane Arbus's haunting characters and Brassaï's nocturnal Parisians. In cities where everything starts to blur into uniform concrete and glass, these photographers showed me how portraits can reveal stories hiding in plain sight. When I came across Sami Aziz's project of photographing strangers on Philadelphia's South Street, it felt like watching this tradition evolve for our times.

Over one year, Aziz captured an astounding 100,000 portraits along a five-block stretch, trading his delivery driver job for a camera and a dream. What started as a simple "what if" moment turned into a full-blown cultural phenomenon. But the most fascinating part is how this hyper-local focus created exactly what Aziz was searching for: a sense of belonging in his hometown.

Bonus curious thing: my very out of date, and kinda forgotten, photography website.

Speaking of photography – if you're curious about my own journey behind the lens, I have a site dedicated to my photos. Fair warning: it's pretty dusty in there, but aren't old photo albums supposed to be a bit worn around the edges? You can also find my more recent shots on Instagram.

These days, I bounce between a Sony A7iii and a Fuji X100V – the perfect combo of versatile workhorse and pocketable companion. The Fuji, especially, has become my constant sidekick for those "I wish I had my camera" moments that always seem to happen when you least expect them.