Street photography often begins with curiosity. For Carmina Ripolles, it also began with a moment in life when creativity became a necessity.

In this episode of the Street Photography Magazine podcast, Bob Patterson and Ashley Riffo talk with Carmina, a street photographer and English teacher whose work celebrates what she calls the “beautifully ordinary.” Her journey into photography began during the lockdown, a time when the world slowed down and many people found themselves searching for new ways to express and understand their experiences.

What started as a creative outlet soon became something deeper. Inspired by photographers like Vivian Maier and Richard Billingham, Carmina began documenting everyday life with a keen eye for small gestures, fleeting expressions, and quiet moments that often go unnoticed. Her photographs remind us that meaningful stories don’t only exist in dramatic scenes, they are happening all around us.

Throughout the conversation, Carmina talks about how photography helped her know herself better as a true people person. She also shares how listening, observing, and engaging with others can transform a simple moment into a photograph that resonates.

Her goal isn’t to dramatize the street or focus only on hardship. Instead, she looks for humanity, humor, and joy in daily life. As she puts it, she wants her images to be “beautifully ordinary.”

In a genre that sometimes gets defined by bravado or confrontation, Carmina’s photographs remind us of another path.

• “The Fugitives” by Carmina Ripolles (The Bee)
• “When We’re Smiling” by Carmina Ripolles (The Bee)
• Carmina on Instagram

In this episode of the Street Photography Magazine podcast, Bob Patterson sits down with Swiss photographer Michael Eugster. Though relatively new to the street photography scene, his photos are incredibly good, and have garnered him quite a bit of recognition in festivals and exhibits around the world.

When Michael began experimenting more seriously with photography, he first focused on landscapes. (I mean, how could you not if you lived in Switzerland?) But when he started photographing in Zurich, something shifted. As people entered the frame, the images felt more alive.

“Suddenly, people came into the pictures,” he says. “And I realized this is definitely a more interesting element.”

Street photography gave him emotions and stories that landscapes couldn’t.

Once he discovered that, he committed. Michael studied online resources, listened to podcasts, and spent as much time shooting as possible. Practice became the foundation of his progress. The more he photographed real life unfolding around him, the more confident he became in anticipating moments.

Today, Michael approaches street photography with the mindset of a collector. Rather than chasing a single perfect image, he looks for recurring themes that catch his attention over time. Matching colors across strangers, lost gloves abandoned on sidewalks, and even interesting backs, yes, backs, have become ongoing personal projects. These small visual puzzles give him direction while still leaving room for surprise. The street always has the final say, and part of the joy is staying open to whatever appears next.

Community has also played an important role in his growth. Photography festivals introduced him to other street photographers who share ideas, encouragement, and honest feedback. Those connections have helped turn a solitary practice into a shared experience.

Michael’s journey is relatable. He did not begin as an expert. He improved rapidly, simply by staying curious and practicing consistently. For anyone exploring street photography, his experience is a reminder that growth comes from intention and effort.

• Michael’s Website
• Instagram
• Michael on Substack

In this episode, Bob and I had the chance to talk with photographer Xiomaro about a creative path that definitely didn’t start with photography.

Before he ever picked up a camera, Xiomaro’s world revolved around music and law. He performed, managed artists, and built a legal career working with musicians. Photography really only entered the picture after a prostate cancer diagnosis forced him to slow down and rethink what he wanted his life to look like moving forward.

What followed wasn’t some dramatic overnight pivot. It started quietly, with travel and time spent photographing national parks during his recovery. That period led to something pretty remarkable: acceptance into a National Park artist residency. Living and working in that environment gave him space to think, to create without pressure, and to reconnect with curiosity in a way that hadn’t been possible in his previous professional life. His park work grew into exhibitions and commissions, but more importantly, it helped him rediscover the joy of making something simply because he wanted to.

Street photography came later, almost accidentally.

While commuting to a legal job he had taken for financial stability, he began photographing daily life in New York City. Not with a grand vision or a long-term plan. Just as practice. Just to stay engaged creatively.

In our conversation, Xiomaro talks about how his background in music still shapes the way he works today. There’s a strong sense of improvisation in his approach, learning the craft, putting in the reps, and then letting instinct take over. Whether he’s photographing sweeping landscapes in a national park or fleeting moments on a city sidewalk, that same mindset carries through.

We also talk about how surviving cancer changed his relationship to time and to creative work itself. Photography became less about achievement and more about presence. Less about structure and more about play.

It’s a really thoughtful conversation about reinvention, creativity, and how sometimes the things that start as small personal practices end up reshaping your life in ways you never expected.

• Xiomaro’s Website
• Instagram
• “Street Photography of New York City: Street Haunting in the Big Apple” by Xiomaro
• “Free Play: Improvisation in Life and Art” by Stephen Nachmanovitch