Capturing a Feeling
I’ve been chewing on this idea for a while, how to explain what I mean when I say I try to capture a feeling in my photography. It’s not just a phrase. It’s completely changed the way I shoot and honestly, made me enjoy photography more. Kyoto, more than almost anywhere else I’ve been, forced me to double down on it. Expectations, reality, and emotions all collided here, and that collision shaped every shot.
When you picture Kyoto, you probably imagine quiet lantern-lit streets, wooden townhouses, and temples frozen in time. I did too. So stepping out of Kyoto Station, I’ll be real… I was thrown off. Instead of the postcard image, I got grey concrete, boxy apartments. I kept walking, waiting for the shift, the alleys, the rooftops, the “classic Kyoto” I had in my head.
Except, it wasn’t there. Kyoto isn’t a perfectly preserved museum. It’s a living city. The old-world charm exists, but it’s stitched between the new, scattered pockets instead of endless streets. That’s where the challenge began.
Then came the crowds. I knew Kyoto was popular, but nothing prepared me for the waves of tourists, selfie sticks, and guided tours clogging every scenic corner. Wide shots felt impossible, always someone in the frame. I could fight it or adapt. So, I adapted.
This is where shooting what I feel kicked in. I ditched the idea of sweeping scenes and leaned into tighter frames, 50mm, 135mm equivalents. Less about “this is Kyoto,” more about “this is how Kyoto feels right now.”
And that’s the core of it. Photography, for me, isn’t about documenting a place in its purest form. It’s about translating my experience of it. The frustration, the beauty tucked into corners, the push and pull between expectation and reality.
Instead of asking how do I capture this place? I asked how do I capture what this place makes me feel? And Kyoto, with all its contradictions, hammered that lesson home and is a perfect way to articulate this concept.
Travel and photography have always been my way to chase peaceful solitude. Not literal solitude, more like feeling connected to a place on my own terms. That’s the state I’m after.
It’s like walking out of a movie. You don’t remember every line of dialogue, but you remember how it made you feel. Think of Luke in the first Star Wars movie, staring at the twin suns, longing for something beyond the familiar. That scene has stuck with me for years. That’s what I want my photography to do, leave an impression, a mood that lingers after the image is gone.
So instead of forcing Kyoto into the version I wanted, I photographed the Kyoto I actually experienced. And honestly? That was far more rewarding.
I don’t want to sound anymore wanky or artistic so before I ramble on more. Here are some shots from my first few hours in Kyoto and how I have tried to capture feelings while photographing here.
