Back in 2005, my life was all about passing exams. My job after college required nine of them—each tougher than the last. Some were offered only once a year, which meant if you failed, you had to wait nine long months to try again. For each exam, I dedicated at least three months to pure studying, juggling long workdays with late nights immersed in study materials.
That autumn, I traveled to Chicago for a prep seminar. It was my first time in the Windy City and the furthest I’d ventured since high school. I borrowed my brother’s point-and-shoot camera, mostly on a whim—but it turned out to be anything but casual.
When I arrived at my hotel by the Chicago River, the city was caught in a blizzard. Despite the snow and no smartphone maps to guide me, I set out on foot. I wandered into Millennium Park, where I stumbled upon the Bean and Jay Pritzker Pavilion—icons I’d never seen before. I got lost, more than once, but it didn’t matter.
That day gave me something I hadn’t felt in months: a break. I wasn’t counting weeks till my next exam or stressing over topics I didn’t understand. I was simply there—present, cold, captivated—and trying for the first time to visually record what I saw.
Nine months later, I passed that final exam and bought my first real camera: a Canon Rebel XT. It marked the true beginning of my photography journey.
🖼 Want to see where that snowy walk has taken me? Explore my latest prints inspired by urban landscapes, fleeting weather moments, and the quiet magic of cities.