An analog photowalk with Arte Merkado, a few old streets in Cebu, and a reminder that not everything has to be work.
Last Sunday, October 25, I joined an analog photowalk organized by Arte Merkado.
Meet up was at Flora and Fauna Café in the newly renovated Patria de Cebu, then made our way around the old downtown area. Along the route, we passed the Cebu Metropolitan Cathedral and the Archdiocesan Museum, stopped by Plaza Hamabar and the Heritage of Cebu Monument, walked through the old Parian district, visited the Iglesia Filipina Independiente (IFI) Church along Mabini Street and the Yap-San Diego Ancestral House, and ended at Casa Gorordo.
It was a full route, with plenty of old buildings, interesting details, and stories to discover. The kind of afternoon that gives you a reason to slow down, look around, and take your time. But somewhere between the stops, I found myself thinking about something beyond the places we were visiting. Whenever I think about All Time Cebu, I think about the things I need to write, the places I need to visit, and the photographs I need to take. There is always something to document, something to research, something that could become an article. And don't get me wrong. I want All Time Cebu to have purpose. I want the stories to mean something, the photographs to say something, and the work to be worth someone's time. But I also want to enjoy it. I want to experience a place and feel excited to tell someone about it. You know that feeling when you discover something interesting and immediately want to tell a friend? You want to describe what you saw, what surprised you, what made you laugh, and why they should come and see it for themselves. That's the kind of feeling I want to bring into my writing and photography. Except that instead of telling a friend over coffee, I get to share it through words and photographs, hoping someone on the other side of the screen can experience a little of it, too.
For years, I've been used to approaching writing and photography with a purpose. My photographs often serve as documentation or support for an article. When I attend an event or work on a paid partnership, my mind goes straight to the things I need to capture. I think about the shots that will tell the story, the details I might miss, and the photographs I'll need when it's time to write. There is nothing wrong with that. It is part of doing the job well. I also think it comes from years of being mentored and, eventually, mentoring others. When you spend enough time learning how to plan, produce, review, and improve work, you begin to see everything through that lens. You learn to be intentional. You think about the outcome before you even begin. Add budgets, schedules, deliverables, and deadlines, and it becomes second nature. You don't simply go somewhere. You go there to produce something. You don't simply take a photograph. You take it because you know where it might fit in the story. You don't simply write what you feel. You think about the structure, the audience, the purpose, and whether the piece does what it is supposed to do. Eventually, it becomes difficult to separate the person who enjoys writing and photography from the person who has to make them useful.And lately, I've been wondering what happens when you spend so much time creating for a purpose that you forget what it feels like to create just because you want to.
The photowalk gave me a chance to think about that. We were walking through a part of Cebu with so much history packed into a few streets. There were churches, ancestral houses, monuments, and buildings that have stood through generations of change. Each place had something to say about the city and the people who lived here before us. The Heritage of Cebu Monument brought together different chapters of Cebu's past in one place. The Yap-San Diego Ancestral House and Casa Gorordo offered glimpses of domestic life from earlier generations. The streets of Parian reminded me that history isn't always tucked away inside a museum. Sometimes, it is right there beside a modern shop or a busy road, easy to miss if you aren't paying attention. These are the kinds of places I want All Time Cebu to write about. Places that deserve to be understood, remembered, and shared. But I also wanted to enjoy being there without constantly thinking about the finished article. To look at something because it caught my eye. To take a photograph because I liked the light, the texture, or the way a building looked against the sky. To follow a small detail even if I wasn't sure where it would fit in the story. Not every photograph has to become the lead image of an article. Not every interesting moment has to turn into a feature. Not every experience has to be measured by what I can publish afterward. Sometimes, it is enough to be there.I think that's part of what makes an analog photowalk appealing to me. You have a limited number of frames, so you naturally become more deliberate about what you photograph. But beyond that, there is something enjoyable about being out with other people who also want to look closely at the world around them.You share the walk, notice different things, and see familiar places through someone else's perspective.And when the photographs finally come back, they become reminders of an experience you had—not just materials you gathered for your next assignment.
I want All Time Cebu to grow. I want it to become a space where we can tell meaningful stories about Cebu, introduce people to places they might otherwise overlook, preserve pieces of local history, and make a living from the work when the opportunity comes. I want it to be sustainable. I want to be able to pay writers and photographers fairly, support local creatives, and give the project room to become something bigger than it is today. But I don't want growth to be the only thing that matters. I don't want every visit to become a deliverable, every story to become a product, or every photograph to exist because it might help generate income. I don't want All Time Cebu to become like a fast-fashion clothing line, constantly producing things simply because there is a demand for more. I don't want to chase quantity until the joy and meaning that made me start in the first place are gone. There is a difference between building something with purpose and turning everything into production. I still want to be intentional about what we publish. I want our stories to be accurate, our photographs to have meaning, and our work to respect the places and people we feature. But I also want room for curiosity, for experiments, for imperfect photographs, and for stories that begin with nothing more complicated than, I went here, I saw this, and I thought you might like it, too. Maybe that is a purpose in itself. To share something because it moved you. To introduce someone to a place because you genuinely enjoyed being there. To tell a story in a way that makes another person feel as though they were walking beside you. Not everything has to be optimized to be worthwhile.
I don't think the answer is to stop planning or to stop treating All Time Cebu seriously. I still want to learn, improve, and build something that lasts. I just want to make sure that the person doing all this work still gets to enjoy it. I want to visit a place without immediately calculating how much content I can get out of it. I want to take photographs without worrying whether every frame has a purpose beyond the moment. I want to write because I have something to say, not just because there is another article to finish. And perhaps I can start by allowing myself a little more leisure. A walk through old streets. An afternoon spent taking photographs. A cup of coffee somewhere new. A story written the way I would tell it to a friend. It doesn't mean the experience has no value if it doesn't make money. It doesn't mean the work has no purpose if it isn't part of a strategy. Maybe the experience itself is worth having. Maybe the story is worth telling. And maybe All Time Cebu can be a place for both: the thoughtful, researched features that preserve Cebu's stories and the personal discoveries that make us fall in love with the place all over again. Last Sunday, I joined an analog photowalk to see and photograph old Cebu. I came away thinking about the kind of creative space I want All Time Cebu to become. I still want to build something meaningful. I just don't want to forget to enjoy building it.
Because sometimes, the best reason to pick up a camera or write a story is simply that you experienced something you want to share.