Artist : Unknown
Growing up in a low-income household pushed me to approach creativity differently. I remember going to school and hearing other kids talk about their hobbies and activities outside of class—club sports, skating, music. It all fascinated me, and I wanted to be part of it.
But one thing I kept running into was the cost. I was raised by a single mom who, to this day, continues to give everything she can to support us—I’m one of five kids. Even asking for something like a $1,500 club volleyball membership or a complete skateboard felt heavy on my conscience.
That limitation forced me to get creative. I had to find my own way to express myself.
At some point, I came across a graffiti documentary featuring a photographer who documented graffiti culture. I fell in love instantly. I started trying to imitate what I saw, exploring the city and searching for walls and spaces filled with these pieces. Over time, that curiosity turned into something deeper.
I began photographing graffiti on my phone. The quality wasn’t great, but I didn’t care. Without even realizing it, I was already applying elements of photography—like the rule of thirds—to frame and capture what I saw.
Fast forward a few years—I’m now 26, and I’m pursuing a personal project centered around graffiti: its impact on communities, and the role it’s played in shaping my own life.
But one thing I kept running into was the cost. I was raised by a single mom who, to this day, continues to give everything she can to support us—I’m one of five kids. Even asking for something like a $1,500 club volleyball membership or a complete skateboard felt heavy on my conscience.
That limitation forced me to get creative. I had to find my own way to express myself.
At some point, I came across a graffiti documentary featuring a photographer who documented graffiti culture. I fell in love instantly. I started trying to imitate what I saw, exploring the city and searching for walls and spaces filled with these pieces. Over time, that curiosity turned into something deeper.
I began photographing graffiti on my phone. The quality wasn’t great, but I didn’t care. Without even realizing it, I was already applying elements of photography—like the rule of thirds—to frame and capture what I saw.
Fast forward a few years—I’m now 26, and I’m pursuing a personal project centered around graffiti: its impact on communities, and the role it’s played in shaping my own life.
Artist: Asend One
Importance of Photography in Everyday
Life.
The importance of photography in everyday life can be measured differently depending on the time an individual dedicates to it and their willingness to preserve meaningful moments. Photography is important because it allows us to capture and preserve moments in time that might otherwise be forgotten. It holds great value in passing down a sense of identity, history, and legacy to future generations.
Allow me to explain. I am by no means a famous, prestigious, or widely recognized photographer in the eyes of today’s average media consumer. However, to my family, I am that person. They rely on me to have the eye and ability to capture moments worth cherishing through my cameras.
One day, I will no longer be here, but the photographs I have created will remain. Whether they are displayed proudly, lost over time, or passed down through generations, my work will continue to exist. In that way, my legacy will live on, keeping a part of me alive in every person who comes across the moments I captured. It will also preserve the legacy of those I have photographed, allowing their stories and memories to live on as well.
By choosing to document everyday life, I have chosen to preserve meaningful moments and ensure they are never forgotten.
