THE STREET PHOTOGRAPHER’S MANIFESTO

by Marianne

I don't ask for permission. I don’t stage. I don’t filter. Life happens raw, and I catch it before it even knows it’s being watched.

I roam the streets in my comfiest shoes like a modern-day hunter—except my prey doesn’t run. It sips coffee, checks phones, argues with parking meters. The city is my jungle, the people my unwitting muses.

Industrial grime, flickering neon, rusted metal—perfection bores me. Give me cracked sidewalks, stained subway seats, the poetry of cigarette smoke curling against concrete. You call it decay? I call it character.

I talk to strangers. A lot. Because life isn’t meant to be watched from a distance. If I steal your soul with my lens, I’ll buy it back with a conversation. I shoot, I share, I make people feel seen—sometimes flattered, sometimes exposed, always real.

Hate candid photography? Stay home. The streets belong to the bold.

I am a street photographer.
I document the chaos.
I make the ordinary legendary.
And yes, my shoes are still more comfortable than yours.