050: Nico Aquino

Born in the Philippines and now based in Guam, Nico Aquino is a film photography enthusiast known for his thoughtful approach to capturing authentic, everyday moments on 35mm film.

Having moved to Guam 12 years ago, Aquino has embraced the art of capturing moments through 35mm film photography, a medium he describes as deliberate, tactile, and meditative. By documenting authentic, fleeting moments in his surroundings, he transforms the ordinary into meaningful images that convey his unique perspective on the world.

For Aquino, art is all about expression, communication, and connection. Photography, he believes, is a powerful way to freeze and preserve the raw details of life while sharing a deeply personal view of the world. Unlike digital photography, which often prioritizes speed and convenience, film forces him to slow down and engage fully with the scene in front of him. He revels in the mix of intention and chance that comes with each shot, finding excitement in how light, composition, and unexpected elements come together to create something entirely unique. This blend of control and spontaneity allows him to see and share beauty that often goes unnoticed.

Guam's breathtaking landscapes and vibrant culture have profoundly shaped Aquino’s artistic journey. Living on the island inspired him to pick up a camera and document its beauty, from the scenic views of Oka Point to the dynamic energy of Paseo in Agana. His self-taught mastery of film photography is influenced by iconic artists like William Eggleston, whose ability to elevate the mundane inspires Nico to notice extraordinary moments in everyday life. Alex Webb, another influence, has encouraged him to embrace complexity, patience, and storytelling through layered compositions. These inspirations have guided him as he pivots toward a more “street-style” approach, incorporating human elements and interactions into his work.

Despite his love for the medium, Aquino acknowledges the challenges that come with shooting on film. The financial cost and slower process often lead to second-guessing and playing it safe, but he views these limitations as opportunities to experiment and grow. Over time, his focus has shifted from traditional landscape photography to the "art of noticing"—slowing down to observe and capture subtle details, emotions, and moments. This philosophy has not only enhanced his creativity but also strengthened his connection to his surroundings, teaching him to embrace imperfections and trust the process.

Aquino’s art isn’t created for any specific audience; instead, it’s for anyone who can find something meaningful in his work. He believes in the importance of creating for oneself and prioritizing joy in the artistic process. To aspiring artists, Nico advises consistency and staying true to one’s vision, cautioning against creating solely for external validation. He sees creativity as a deeply personal journey, one that thrives on passion and the freedom to express emotions and experiences authentically.

“Why else would we create if not to express ourselves? ”

— Nico Aquino

Through his film photography, Aquino captures not just Guam’s physical beauty but also its spirit, culture, and the stories within. His dedication to the craft reflects the enduring power of slowing down, noticing the small details, and connecting with the world in a thoughtful way. Whether it’s a sunset, an overlooked detail in a familiar setting, or a fleeting human interaction, Aquino’s work is a reminder of the magic in seeing life through a creative lens, one frame at a time.

To read Nico Aquino’s full interview, continue reading below. Also, check out his work by following him on Instagram (@nraquino_). Thanks again!

Please introduce yourself and describe what you do. (short bio please!)

Hi! My name is Nico Aquino. I am 26 years old. I moved to Guam 12 years ago from the Philippines. I would consider myself a photography hobbyist/enthusiast, and I mainly shoot on 35mm film now. I am always on the lookout for something photo-worthy when I am out and about.

How would you define art?

If I were to narrow it down to three words, I would define art to be about expression, communication, and connection. I believe art is one’s attempt to express their view of the environment and society they live in in a form that is unique to them. It’s a subjective expression of oneself and the process of communicating that directly or indirectly through a chosen medium. It's about making a connection—either with the subject, the viewer, or even with the deeper parts of yourself.

Why did you choose your art form?

Photography, I believe, is one of, if not the only art form, which offers the capability to freeze and capture a moment, a feeling, a detail in time at their rawest, most objective state. I chose this form so that I can share my perspective of the world and allow them to see things in my surroundings that would otherwise go unnoticed. There's something about the click of the shutter that feels like you're preserving a piece of the world, just as it is, in that exact moment.

What I love about photography is that it’s a mix of intention and chance. You set up the shot, you think about light, composition, and perspective, but then there's always that element of surprise—maybe the light shifts, or someone moves in front of the frame, and you end up with something unexpected. That combination of control and randomness is what makes it exciting for me. It feels like you’re capturing the world as it truly is, but also filtering it through your own lens—your own emotions, your own experiences, your own way of seeing things.

I made a decision in early 2022 to switch to shooting on 35mm film for the foreseeable future and never looked back since (maybe one day). For me, choosing film photography is about the process—it’s slower, more deliberate, and more personal than anything digital could ever be. When I shoot with film, there’s this feeling of being in the moment, because I know every shot counts. Each frame feels like a commitment, and I love that. It forces me to think carefully about what I’m capturing, how I’m framing it, and whether I really want to spend that last frame on something. It’s almost like meditation; you’re really engaging with the scene, the subject, the light, and your own instincts in a way that’s different from clicking a button and moving on.

Then there’s the tactility of film. I love the ritual of it—loading the camera, carefully advancing the film, the thrill of finishing a roll and waiting to develop it. When you finally get those prints or scans back, it’s like unwrapping a little piece of your memory. Film also feels like a way to slow down and really see what’s around me. Digital cameras are instant and often feel disposable—snap, look, delete, move on. But with film, I have to be more mindful. I think more about what I’m shooting and why. It’s an art of patience, and in a world that often feels rushed, I find that incredibly grounding. It’s about creating something from scratch, knowing that the final image, the one that will live on, isn’t immediately available to see and share. It’s a way of holding onto time in a deeper way.

How does your background (education, ethnicity, culture, etc.) affect the artwork you make today?

I would say that my surroundings pushed me into picking up photography as a hobby. As someone who lives on this island, it would be a shame to not engage with and capture its beauty. As far as education goes, everything I know about photography has been self-taught through years of practice and learning from those who excel at it right now and those that came before.

Who do you idolize or look up to?

When I think about film photography, there are a couple names that come to mind.

- William Eggleston - Eggleston is an inspiration to me because he transforms the everyday into something extraordinary. He truly embraces and embodies the “art of noticing.” His work has shown me that beauty doesn’t always have to be grand or dramatic; sometimes it’s in the simplest moments—like a rusted door, a parking lot, or a light bulb. Through Eggleston’s lens, things I might typically overlook are given new life, and their subtle colors and compositions become powerful statements.

- Alex Webb – As I try to pivot more into a more “street” style of photography, I continue to discover more photographers who exemplify this particular genre. Alex Webb captures so much in a single moment. He has this amazing ability to blend light, color, and people in a way that feels full of stories. His work makes me want to pay more attention to the layers in the world around me and embrace color with energy. I love how his images feel like part of something bigger, always making me think about the story behind them. Webb also teaches me the value of patience—his work shows that great photos take time and careful observation. He inspires me to find beauty in the everyday, use color purposefully, and wait for the right moment to unfold.

There’s a lot more people I could talk about, but for now, these are the two I wanted to highlight.

Where do you get your inspiration? / What do you do when you're stuck on an artwork or lacking motivation or inspiration?

Inspiration comes to me in waves and more often happens in the moment. There’s this sense of anticipation, but also pressure, that comes with shooting film. You can’t just shoot, review, and edit on the spot. You have to wait, sometimes for weeks, to see what you’ve actually captured, and that can be a bit of a rollercoaster. I think the delay, the lack of instant feedback, makes you second-guess yourself or feel disconnected from the process. Then there’s the cost. Every shot feels more “precious,” so you end up thinking too much about each frame, worrying whether it’s good enough, and that can stifle creativity. I’ve found myself trying to capture something “perfect” instead of just capturing what’s there, and that’s frustrating. I’ve talked about how the photographs I take tend to be very matter-of-fact and contrived. Like how taking a picture of a sunset is just that, a sunset. I’ve come to realize that the photos I take lack something that makes me and others connect less to them. At the same time, there’s something beautiful about the struggle. It forces you to slow down, pay attention, and think more about why you’re taking a photo and not just how it looks afterward. I’ve had to remind myself to embrace the imperfections, to trust in the process, and to find inspiration in the moments, rather than the end result. Sometimes the best photos happen when you’re not trying so hard to make them perfect.

When I’m lacking motivation or inspiration in film photography, I’ve learned that it’s okay to step back and give myself permission to not feel inspired all the time. It’s part of the process. When I try to force creativity, it often leads to frustration. I’ll go for a walk, drive around, or explore new places. I’ve learned that motivation and inspiration don’t always come on demand, and that’s okay. I try to remind myself that creativity is cyclical—it ebbs and flows. There will be times when I feel on top of the world and other times when I can’t seem to capture anything that excites me. And that’s all part of the process. I’ve found that being patient with myself and letting go of the pressure to create perfect images helps me rediscover the joy of shooting.

What do you like incorporating most into your art?

Now, I try to incorporate and capture more human aspects in my photos. However, I also don’t actively steer away from taking a picture of nice scenery like a sunset or a cool view.

What is something that you add to your art as your signature?

Film photography is such a spectrum and broad that I am still in the process of finding my own signature “style” and it’s perhaps the biggest thing I’m trying to achieve and establish. It’s work-in-progress for me at the moment.

Take us through your process for making art.

I am what you would call a “slow shooter” as I take as long as two or three months to finish a roll of film with 36 shots. I don’t think I have a formal process to how I make my photos. One thing I do, though, is to never leave the house with a camera on me, whether it be a point-and-shoot or one of my SLRs. I find that photos or moments worth photographing come when you least expect it and it would be such a bummer if I didn’t have a camera on me. On my commute to work or just driving around, I’ve conditioned myself to always be on the lookout for a spot that I could come back to or shoot then and there. I am a firm believer that in order to become better, one must put in the time and effort even at times when inspiration may seem non-existent.

What do you struggle with the most when making art?

Because of the cost associated with film, many photographers find themselves holding back creatively, afraid to experiment or take risks. I’ve caught myself second-guessing shots, thinking, Am I wasting this roll? In the back of my mind, I always know that I need to be selective with what I shoot, and sometimes that means I play it safe instead of experimenting or pushing boundaries. The fear of wasting a shot can be stifling, especially if I want to create something that feels raw or experimental, but I feel like I need to "get it right" in a certain way.

Beyond the technical and financial aspects, there’s this deeper, more personal struggle. Film is slow. It forces me to be present, to pay attention to the moment, and sometimes that’s exactly what I need. But sometimes I just want to snap something without thinking so hard about it. It’s a constant battle between the joy of the process and the frustration of its limitations. There are days when I think, Why am I still doing this? And yet, every time I hold a roll of developed film in my hands, I remember why. The imperfections, the unpredictability, the way it forces me to slow down and see the world differently, there’s a rawness to it that digital just can’t replicate.

What role do artists have in society?

One of the most important things I think artists do is document life. Every photo, song, painting, or piece of writing is a snapshot of a moment in time. When I take photos, I often think about how these images will be looked at years from now. In a way, artists help preserve history—sometimes in big ways (like war photography or documentary photography) and sometimes in small ways (like a casual snapshot of everyday life). We get to capture the feelings, struggles, and beauty of a particular moment, and that’s something that sticks with people. At its core, art is personal expression. For me, it’s a way to process emotions and experiences, and when someone connects with it, that’s the magic.

What characteristics do you think all artists share?

For me, the things that all artists seem to share—no matter their medium or style—are pretty straightforward: passion and imagination. There’s this undeniable passion that pushes artists to create, even when it’s hard or when we’re not sure where it’s all going. For me, photography isn’t just a hobby—it’s something I need to do. I can’t imagine not having that creative outlet. Artists have a way of seeing the world differently. We can look at the same thing as someone else but find new meaning or beauty in it. I see this every time I pick up my camera. I imagine a scene before I even shoot it.

What’s your favorite place in Guam?

The two places I often find myself visiting over and over are Paseo in Agana and Oka Point in Tamuning. I’ve probably shot every inch of those places haha.

How has your artwork evolved over time?

I think over time I’ve slowly strayed away from the traditional landscape photos and focused more on being present and observant of the world around me, noticing the small details, subjects, lighting, and moments that others might overlook. It’s what they call the “art of noticing” which is about training your mind to slow down, observe, and see potential for meaningful photographs in the everyday world.

Why did you choose to become an artist?

I chose to become an artist in film photography because, somewhere along the way, I realized that it felt more authentic—like I was truly connecting with the medium in a way that digital photography didn’t allow me to. There’s something about the process of film that feels real to me. It’s tactile, it’s slow, it demands my full attention. When I hold a roll of film, load it into my camera, and hear that satisfying click of the shutter, I’m present with the moment in a way that’s hard to describe. It’s not just about taking pictures—it’s about making something with intention. Every shot counts. There’s no instant gratification, no reviewing the image right away. I have to trust that I’ve captured what I want, and then wait. And in that waiting, there’s a kind of patience, a quiet reverence for the process that makes the final image feel all the more meaningful. Also, it makes me happy to create and that’s all that matters.

Is your art geared towards a specific audience?

No, my art is for anyone and everyone that can find something to appreciate in what I share.

Do you have any tips for aspiring artists?

I would say that consistency is always a must, and I firmly believe that whatever form of art you decide to pursue, to always prioritize the joy in it no matter what. Anything that gets in the way of that, put it aside or decide if it’s worth it. Why else would we create if not to express ourselves? Also, to not buy into performing for others or only feel fulfilled when you get attention from other people or receive that validation externally. Yes, participating in that and deciding to present your work to the world (ie. social media) is great and it provides useful feedback, but don’t do it solely for the validation you may receive from the world, do it for you.

051: Novem Gimoto

049: Kiley Wright