I look around. I write the word 'photographing' into my notebook, photographing rather than photography. Every now and then, possibly every week I wonder about this photographing. Why make a photograph of this or that, there and then? Why do some of my photographs become more significant than others for me? Photographing is a presence in my everyday life. The camera is embedded in this device which I hold in my hand to type these words upon. I can flip from typing into looking through this device at the world around me. I can press a button and hold onto what I'm looking at. This holding is rarely a capturing or shooting of someone. This holding tends towards the appearance of things, rather than being, a wavering between being and appearance. I look up from these written words, look around, and wonder about this seeing; in this early morning atmosphere my seeing of movement and stillness, light and dark, textures, shapes. This looking seems somewhat vague, it's a sort of awareness of what's going on, without focusing on anything in particular, things and thoughts happening.