A Walk with a Forgotten Camera

This set started by accident.

While helping my wife find some stuff she needed from her parents’ house, I noticed a small Sony Cybershot buried in a drawer in her room, a camera she used as a child. It felt untouched by time. Scratched, simple, and completely disconnected from everything modern photography has become. I put in a pair of AA batteries, turned it on, and decided not to overthink it.

I took it with me for a walk around my old neighborhood in Skopje, where everyday life quietly unfolds. No plans, no settings to tweak, no pressure to get a “perfect” shot. Just observing, people waiting for the bus, cars passing by, improvised fruit stands, familiar streets framed by mountains in the distance.

The limitations of the camera became part of the process. Slow focus, digital noise, imperfect colors. Instead of fighting them, I leaned into them. The images feel raw and slightly distant, almost like memories rather than documentation, which makes sense, considering the camera itself carries its own past.

Shooting with this little Cybershot reminded me why I fell in love with photography in the first place. Not for sharpness or specs, but for moments. For pausing time. For noticing things that usually pass unnoticed.

This wasn’t about nostalgia, but it ended up feeling like one. A walk through a familiar place, seen through a forgotten lens, capturing fragments of everyday life exactly as they are - imperfect, quiet, and real.

Enjoy some of the images below.

Until the next frame, Alek.

Camera: Sony Cybershot (vintage digital from the early 2000s)
Location: Gjorče Petrov, Skopje, Macedonia