I don’t chase perfection. I don’t polish the streets into postcards. I take pictures of what I see—fleeting gestures, overlooked details, unremarkable corners. To some, these images may feel uninteresting. But to me, they are the essence of street photography: authentic, candid, and true.

I. PRESENCE IS HONESTY

Street photography begins with presence. It’s about standing in the chaos of Phnom Penh—motorbikes weaving, vendors calling, monks moving through morning light—and noticing the small things.

A hand resting on a tuk‑tuk. A shadow slicing across a wall. A child’s laughter echoing in the alley. These moments aren’t staged. They aren’t curated. They are real.

II. MEMORY IS FRAGILE

Phnom Penh is changing fast. Markets modernise, facades crumble, new towers rise. What feels ordinary today may be gone tomorrow.

Photography preserves the fragile. A candid frame becomes a fragment of memory, a retro imprint of a city in transition. Not all images are pretty, but all are valuable.

III. CONNECTION IS HUMAN

The power of candid moments lies in connection. A stranger’s direct gaze. A fleeting smile. The quiet acknowledgment of someone who lets me borrow a second of their life.

Grain, blur, imperfection—these are not flaws. They are the marks of authenticity, the texture of human presence.

IV. IDENTITY IS UNPOLISHED

My way of working is not about producing art that pleases everyone. It is about practicing a way of seeing. It is about being present in Phnom Penh’s streets, attentive to the ordinary, open to the unremarkable.

This is my discipline: to take pictures of what I see, without gloss, without apology.

Closing Call: Light as a Signature

Street photography is special not because it is beautiful, but because it is true. Each frame is a mark, a monogram of the city’s soul—drawn not with ink, but with light.