If you’re reading this blog, chances are you’re into photography. Some of you might be working professionals, some might make a living on social media, and some do it for fun. Regardless of which bucket you fall into, it’s safe to assume that you take photography seriously, and have a pretty solid camera setup too.

My bread and butter camera is the Sony A7RV. This is my primary workhorse for all photo and video, with 95% of everything you see coming from this camera. It’s one of the most capable cameras out there, and despite the naysayers, it’s great fun to use. However, anytime I pick it up, I feel like I’m in work mode.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve banged on about how you need to have a camera on you at all times. I’ve spoken often about how some of my best photos were taken when photography wasn’t the primary objective of the day. If you ever see me out in public, it’s extremely unlikely for me to be without a camera, and I’m not counting my phone.

For a long time, I would go out with the A7RV even if I was just running to grab a quick coffee with a friend. That camera rarely left my side, and I found myself in constant work mode. Even if I was having a nice lunch with my girlfriend, I was in photography mode because that camera was on me. I would be looking for photos that I am “known for”, and while this isn’t a bad thing, what did end up happening was me not having any photos to remember my actual day.

Almost everyone outside of our world sees cameras as devices to capture memories, not create art. People take photos of lunches, selfies, stupid faces, random things they come across, and everything in between. Only us photographers see cameras as tools to create. Most people see them as devices to document key moments in their lives.

When I look back through my library from a specific trip, I find many wonderful photos that I’m very proud of. However, while these images are great from an artistic point of view, they don’t really serve as memories of what actually matters. In other words, if I were to show them to my kids when they are older, they won’t necessarily have any connection to them outside of them being my photos.

I am now firmly in my mid 30s, and with age you start to appreciate smaller moments a lot more. This will become even more critical when we eventually start our own family. With that in mind, earlier this year I decided to make more of an effort to document the moments in-between. To take photos of my lunch, my coffee, a random plant pot in our hotel, or even my girlfriend eating questionable street food. In other words, I decided to use my camera to document, not create.

Initially I tried to do it with the Sony, however that camera always feels like work and automatically puts me in that frame of mind. A bit like how some people can’t shoot photo and video on the same camera, even if it’s perfect for the job. I then tried my iPhone using both the default app as well as the Leica app with all the presets. While this got me a step closer by separating the two devices, using a phone is one of the least enjoyable tasks for me, so this didn’t last. In the end, I settled on the Ricoh GRIV as my camera for memories, and I haven’t looked back.

Why the Ricoh? There are a few key reasons. The first being the size. As we all know, Ricoh cameras are the only truly pocketable APS-C systems on the market, and I am yet to find anything that comes close. The second reason is the fixed 28mm focal length which is perfect for documenting what you’re doing, and who you’re doing it with. Some cameras have zooms built in, but for me that’s added complexity that takes away from the simple nature of documentation. The third reason is the outstanding image quality, because even though these are snapshots for memories, I still want them to be high quality. The final reason is that having owned the GRIII and GRIIIX, I am very familiar with just how fun this camera is to use. For clarity, this isn’t sponsored or affiliated with Ricoh in any way. I bought the camera with my own money.

Unlike shooting with the Sony, where I look for light, composition, subject, or some kind of story, with the GRIV I only have one trigger, gut feeling. I document everything around me regardless of whether I will keep it or not. This is my visual journal, because the goal isn’t a cohesive body of work. The goal is a thick album full of memories from random things that won’t make sense to anyone other than me, my family, and my close friends.

By no means am I saying that you need a £1000+ camera for this task, because even a 10 year old point and shoot will do. What I am saying is perhaps try to find a camera to fill this role in your life. I suspect when you’re old, you might just value these photos a little more than the ones that sold 1000 printed copies.