During the summer holidays, our parents kicked us out of the house with a European Interrail ticket in one hand and a stupidly overpacked backpack in the other, ready to explore life beyond our comfort zones. Along the way, we spent our last money on fresh batteries for our Sony Walkman, just to keep listening to our favourite bands.

We travelled in cars without seat belts, sat in smoking cabins on planes, and never wore helmets on our bikes or skateboards. Yet, somehow, we are still here — laughing about a lifetime of good memories.

Memories that began as dreams before becoming unforgettable experiences. We shaped our lives from our own dreams, not from someone else’s Instagram or Facebook account. We absorbed places and moments instead of immediately capturing and sharing them on social media.

Our cameras were loaded with 24- or 36-exposure rolls of film, and every picture was carefully considered. Each frame was one of only 24 decisions — a thought, a reason, a chance to create the photograph.

We believed in our choices and in the technical skills we had. Still, when we collected the prints, it was either a moment of satisfaction or disappointment.

But nevertheless, we had a great time together and still carry those blurry, over- or underexposed memories in our minds. We remember them because they were special — more meaningful than the perfect camera setting. We accepted the imperfection of the photograph because of the perfection of the moment.

Today, I work as a creative filmmaker. I try to avoid blurry, over- or underexposed images. I look for perfection in the picture — through my eye, my experience and the technical possibilities available to me.