🚀 We Don’t Lust After Beauty Itself

I first got serious about photography in 2018. What sparked it was a three-month trip to New York.
There, I met a number of street photographers, and at the same time, I happened to catch a William Eggleston exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It was the first time I realized that street photography could be considered art.

At the time, I knew almost nothing about photography. And I still remember looking at Eggleston’s photo of a simple tricycle and thinking, “If something like this can be displayed at the MET, maybe I’ve got a shot too.”

That trip changed everything. And now, more than six years later, I’m still shooting street. Lately, I’ve been asking myself again—what does it really mean to be a street photographer?

🍒 We Don’t Lust After Beauty Itself—We Lust After the Act of Discovering It

To begin with, the definition of street photography differs from person to person, and there are countless styles within it.

Some would say that only truly candid shots—where the subject isn’t aware of the camera at all—count as street photography. Others might argue that if the photographer directs the subject or asks them to pose, it no longer qualifies.

But despite these differences, I believe there’s one common thread among those who practice street photography in a broad sense: the desire to capture moments of beauty that most people would overlook.

Some may not be fully aware of this desire. And often, like many others, we react to things that are obviously beautiful and feel compelled to photograph them. But what excites us most isn’t just recording beauty—it’s discovering it in places no one else is looking.

If we were only interested in conventional beauty, we wouldn’t spend hours walking around with a camera. We’d just scroll through Instagram or visit a museum and admire what’s already labeled as “beautiful.” We could book a professional model and stage the perfect shoot. But we don’t. We head out into the streets.

That’s because we, as street photographers, don’t lust after beauty itself—we lust after the act of finding beauty.

And by “beauty,” I don’t just mean visual appeal—like pretty colors or pleasing composition. I’m also talking about the emotional weight a photo can carry, the value of the moment itself, and the power of an image to communicate something meaningful. Even a visually “ugly” scene can be beautiful if it moves someone’s heart. That’s the kind of beauty we seek.

🍟 A World Overflowing with Junk Photos

In today’s world, where images flood our screens by the second, I wonder—how many people can truly stand before others and say, with confidence, “This is beautiful,” when they’re the only one who sees it?

Even if our core desire as street photographers is to discover beauty, the need for validation is hard to ignore.

Especially in this age of social media, it’s easier to share what the audience already likes—what we know will get likes, comments, and maybe even more followers—than to show people a beauty they’ve never noticed before.

When feedback is quantified—likes, shares, saves—it’s only natural to start creating with the algorithm in mind. You start anticipating what others want to see instead of listening to what you want to express. 
And because everyone else is doing the same thing, our feeds end up filled with the same kinds of images and messages—safe, polished, and predictable.

The real danger is that these photos—these messages—may not be meaningful, but they’re satisfying. 
Just like junk food, they’re engineered to feel good. And thanks to algorithms that favor addictive content, these easy-to-digest images keep getting pushed to the top. So we end up bingeing on junk photos, over and over again.

And when our brains are trained on junk, we start shooting junk, too.

You might walk around for hours looking for a shot, only to end up capturing an image that looks just like everything else online—something that could have been generated by AI. Not something only you could have taken. Not something real.

We stop seeing, and start mimicking. That's the cost of consuming beauty without ever truly discovering it.

🚨 No Care, Still Here.

I’ve been pretty critical of the kind of photos we often see on social media. But let me be clear—I’m not anti-SNS. In fact, I think social media is a powerful tool, especially when it comes to marketing and communication.
The important thing is to never let the tool control you. These platforms are just that: tools. They’re meant to serve a purpose—not be the purpose.

As street photographers, as people who chase after beauty in the everyday, I believe it’s our responsibility to stay true to what we personally find beautiful—and to express it.

And when we do, we can give people a new perspective. We can help them break out of their assumptions and biases. Maybe, just maybe, they’ll start to believe that the world is more beautiful than they thought—and start living with a bit more hope.

That’s why I say: No care, still here.
Forget the pressure to please the crowd. It doesn’t matter if you fail, get ignored, or things don’t go your way. What matters is staying true to your own values and sense of beauty. Keep going, even when no one’s watching.

And honestly, zines are the perfect medium for that kind of self-expression. When you make a zine, you don’t have to worry about likes, comments, or algorithm tricks. You get to decide the layout, the size, the paper, the colors—everything. A zine is a space where you can share the kind of beauty only you can see. There’s nothing else like it.

I’ve been thinking about all of this lately, and that’s what led me to write today’s edition.

Moving forward, I want FAR EAST DARKROOM to carry this same punk spirit at its core—with “No Care, Still Here” as our tagline. That’s the energy I want to bring into every project.

Thanks for reading to the end.

And now, I want to ask you:
What does street photography mean to you? What does the zine format represent in your life?
Writing this all out helped me clarify my own thoughts—so I’d love to hear yours too.
You can just reply to this email, or leave a comment on the web version of this edition. Either way, I’d be thrilled to hear what you think.

See you next week!

🔄 Catch Up on What You Missed

I’ve put out some content recently that I’m really proud of—check it out:

• Nikon FM2 + 20mm lens | Street Portraits of Funky Japanese Youth POV

• Fukushima’s Night Sky Through Film: A Photography Project for a Cause

• When the Canary Dies: The Responsibility of an Artist

• 5 Zine Cover Inspirations You Won't See at Bookstores

Get more like this, straight to your inbox.