photography

Finding Forgotten Memories: My Phone’s Camera Roll Photos #1

Hey guys, I hope all is well.

For this photo article I scrolled through my phone’s camera roll and selected 10 random photos I wanted to show and give context to. These photos aren’t necessarily my favourite, or best capture, but they’re meaningful to me.

I thought this would be a cool opportunity to tell you a few stories using images lost on my phone. I’m sure you scroll through your camera roll from time to time and find images that jog back a collection of clear memories.

It would be really cool for this article to receive comments with your guys’ own photos and stories, wouldn’t it?

That’s our goal for this article today. I’ll share 10 of mine and you share one of yours!

Deal?

Let’s do it.

This photo was taken back in late 2019 when my family moved from Florida to the Azores. We had just cleared out a 40 foot container filled with our stuff lugged into boxes. We didn’t want everything scattered about our living space so we stored them in the basement, and brought things up as we needed them. Needless to say it was chaotic for awhile trying to fully move in. The first morning we couldn’t find our coffee maker so we opted to use this percolator left behind by the owner of the house. Let me tell you, I made a strong, robust, delicious cup of coffee that morning. I sat out on the patio listening to the ocean with a satisfying morning brew. It was the first time using a percolator and has been my preferred method since.
“What am I trying to communicate?”
I started journaling after I graduated high school back in 2015. Before then I always felt mentally cluttered and one of my health teachers recommended I try it out to see if it helped. And it did. Not at first, but around the one month mark I had more than 30 of my thoughts written down. Each entry was my mind projected onto paper, that’s how I thought of it anyway. I could then analyse myself and reflect on how and why I wrote certain things down. It became a sort of meditation I didn’t have access to beforehand. Nowadays I ask the question, “What am I trying to communicate?” prior to putting pen to pad because I know the importance of clear, articulated thoughts for an uncluttered mind.
This is my Mom and Dad sitting together towards the end of the day at my Avó’s.(Portuguese for “Grandma”)
I don’t know the exact reason why I like this photo, but I have a feeling that years from now I’ll look at it with intense emotion. Maybe it’s the basic-ness of the photo, or maybe the lack of light on both of them, or the cigarette In my dad’s hand and the wine to my mom’s left. I took this photo and thought nothing of it. Now it seems significant. Is that strange?
Pictured here are sunspots on the sea that I took a photo of on my backpacking trip to São Jorge. I followed a farming trail to a clearing on the edge of this huge vegetated rock in the town of Velas. It was just me up there with no plans for the rest of the day. The sun-spots disappeared and reappeared with the shifting clouds above. There was a light show on the Atlantic Ocean and I had the best seat.
This is Mount Pico on the island of Pico in the Azores. The connection I have to this place is both ancestral and spiritual. I always heard my dad’s stories about climbing Pico when I was younger. It wasn’t until I finally visited that I fully understood what he was talking about. And when I stood at the peak and looked out theres no better way to put the feeling I had than I embodied my dad’s stories. For a few moments I felt what he must’ve felt. And then I imagined telling my kids one day how I climbed Pico.
Laguna De La Cocha, Pasto, Colombia (Summer 2018)
Pasto was the second to last town I visited before crossing the border into Ecuador. I was ecstatic to meet up with a friend I met In Bogota to explore the nearby lake. We took a day trip to a few different places but spend a lot of time at this fishing town where their known for their smoked trout. We took one of these boats around the lake to a few different view points. There was actually an island we hiked through before going back for a late lunch. I don’t know what they used to season the trout but however they did it was remarkable.
Ahhh, Cartagena. I love this place. I took this photo the first day of my last week in Colombia. It’s symbolic to me. I had already spent a week here before traveling to the other cities. When I arrived at the airport I knew where I was. I followed the coastal road outside the neighborhoods because I knew it would lead me to the beaches and then the old, walled city. By the time my feet hit the sand the sky was lit up in colors. It was so hot and humid that night but I felt so relaxed and chill.
The best sunsets I’ve ever seen I saw from Sarasota shorelines. I believe this photo was taken at Bird Key park in downtown. I picked this one for its representation of peaceful solitude. In general, solitude was a common theme I noticed in my photography regardless of the exact subject.
I have a few photos stored away on my phone from this three day hike to lake Quilotoa. I regret to tell you however, that I lost the majority of them a few months after getting back from South America. Regardless, I love this photograph. It reminds me to be adventurous, perseverant, and passionate about the world we live in. I snapped this one on the morning of our last dayhike before reaching our destination: Latacunga.
My sister Ray took this photo of me when I got back to my home in Florida. I posted it to instagram with this caption: In the summertime I used pesos instead of dollars, gracias instead of thank you, and I rolled my R’s instead of growling them. In the summertime my purpose was to live like we all do, nothing special except for the feeling it gave me. I was actually alive.
My heartbeat told me by how fast it drummed dealing with everyday situations. Buying bread, jumping on a bus, walking into a city, saying “ola, como estas?” to the pretty brown haired barrista. There were times of heartache too in those foreign city streets. I went a few days without talking to anyone including myself. Tears fell, the sun fell too and at night I looked out the hotel window at the sparkling lights reminding me I was here.
Summertime was both a dream and reality. I walked out the door every morning 6 inches above the ground with my mind firmly planted in my surroundings. Everything was something to see and observe, to experiment and know. When I didn’t know I was okay with that. I’d been here before in this unfamiliar state of mind which seems more recognizable each time I find myself here.

Thanks for reading you guys

Make sure to comment your camera roll photo story down below. I can’t wait to read them!

Theres plenty more here to read, check out my other blog posts.

Seeing the Same Old Place for the First Time: Mt. Hope Farm, Bristol, Rhode Island

I’ve walked through Mt. Hope Farm so many times that I feel like the average person would be tired of walking the same path by now. Seeing the same pond, the same bay, the same Cove Cabin. The same geese, the same open field,the same view of Mt. Hope Bridge beyond Seal Island. But one … Continue reading Seeing the Same Old Place for the First Time: Mt. Hope Farm, Bristol, Rhode Island

by Ryan Quaresma

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