There are photographers who document what they see — and then there are photographers who feel the world first and let the camera follow. Milibooo is very much the latter.

If you’ve ever scrolled past one of her images — a pair of weathered, hardworking hands, a quiet street glowing under night lights, a moment of everyday life tenderness — you know her work isn’t loud. It doesn’t shout. It invites you in.

Mili’s path into photography wasn’t a dramatic lightning-bolt moment — it was a gentle unfolding. A Sony digi-cam for nights out, a spark of curiosity while styling a product shoot, and that lingering what if that never quite left. But what really shaped her eye is her heart: a deep empathy, a love of people, and a fascination with the quiet stories we carry within.

Her Working Hands series (1 & 2) is a perfect example — an ode to the makers, the fixers, the carriers, the unseen. Sparked by a moment holding her mother’s hand, it’s a body of work rooted in love, recognition, and reverence.

And then there’s her nighttime photography. Dreamy, cinematic, whispered. The world slows down, shadows swell, and light becomes emotional. Her night photos don’t show places, they show feelings.

Onchain, she’s part of the Gratitude Economy — the $TYSM movement — where appreciation isn’t an afterthought but a creative force. To her, saying “thank you” isn’t small. It’s alchemical. It shifts mood, energy, connection, and maybe even the world itself.

This conversation is full of heart. The soft kind, the real kind. About empathy, craft, light, and love. Enjoy!

TGJ: Thinking back to when you first grabbed a camera, what was that moment like? Were you instantly hooked, cautiously curious, or more like, ‘Hmm… let’s see what happens if I press this button’?

Mili: The first camera I ever owned was a little Sony digi-cam & honestly, its main purpose was to document my legendary nights out 😂✨

My first real brush with photography though, happened while I was styling a product shoot. (Yes, I’m actually a photography stylist by profession) I picked up the camera more playfully than seriously very much in my “you never know” era.

Lucky for me, my partner’s a photographer, so I had my own personal tutor on standby 24/7 at absolutely zero cost.

TGJ: Your photos always feel very grounded and close to real life. Are there parts of your personal history that have shaped the way you notice things — the way you look at people, work, and quiet moments?

Mili: I’ve always been that curious kid who noticed everything & asked too many questions. My parents encouraged it — they’d tell me all these quotes about knowledge that I honestly don’t remember 😂 but the message stuck.

I just love people and their stories.

Those who know me know I’m a bit of an empath and wear my emotions on my sleeve & I guess all of that shows up in my photos - I don’t just take them, I feel them.

TGJ: Your Working Hands series is so full of character — welders, mechanics, carpenters, fishmongers, spice traders, seamsters, barbers… all of these hands create beauty and value quietly, often without recognition. They also tell stories. What first made you look at someone’s hands and think, “Wait — this is where the real story is”?

Mili: Oh boy, this one always gets me. It started with my mom. I was holding her hand one day and noticed how rough and wrinkled it had become. I started suggesting creams, and she just smiled and said, “Mili, these are working hands.” That line hit me deep. In that moment, I thought of all the unseen hands around us — the ones that build, create, and carry so much without ever being noticed. It came from love, from gratitude, and from wanting to give those hands the recognition they’ve quietly earned every single day. This is where the story began.

TGJ: Your night photography while traveling feels almost like stepping into someone else’s dream. What’s the most surprising thing you’ve discovered about a place when photographing it at night — a detail, a feeling, or a moment that wouldn’t have been there in daylight?

Mili: It’s magic. It’s mysterious. Night photography captures what daylight simply can’t. The world slows down, sounds fade, and light starts to behave differently - softer, moodier, a little secretive. There’s a certain glow around a subject, a reflection in a glass window, or that quiet feeling that something’s hiding in the corners - that’s what pulls me in. It’s a challenge, but that’s part of the thrill.

When I shot the Eiffel Tower as she lit up, it honestly felt otherworldly, like an out-of-body moment. Just me, the light, and this unexplainable connection that words can’t quite touch.

TGJ: You’re part of the Gratitude Economy — the $TYSM  culture of saying thank you loudly and often. How has giving and receiving gratitude online (and onchain) influenced your creative mood? And do you feel these sparks of appreciation could actually shake up the way we connect as humans?

Mili: Being part of the Gratitude Economy just feels right . It’s as simple as that. There’s real magic in a heartfelt TYSM.

When someone appreciates my work, it lifts me instantly. But honestly, giving gratitude feels just as good or even better.  It softens you, shifts your energy, & somehow makes everything flow better. It reminds me that art or any kind of creation isn’t a one-way street. It’s connection. It’s energy.

And yeah, I truly think these little sparks of gratitude can change things. If people hyped each other up online as easily as they drop opinions, we might just fix the internet one “thank you” at a time .

I’ve always believed in @nomadicframe someone I genuinely trust, admire, & look up to 💫 Grateful beyond words that he brought me onboard $TYSM  

It’s such a joy to be part of something built on good energy & gratitude. & huge love to @jeyloo.eth  and @buckyball  - their kindness, quick support, and positive vibes make everything feel even more special 💖

Connect with Milibooo on Farcaster 🔹 X 🔹 Foundation 🔹 Exchange Art 🔹 OpenSea

Read more about the Gratitude Economy and $TYSM

There are photographers who document what they see — and then there are photographers who feel the world first and let the camera follow. Milibooo is very much the latter.

If you’ve ever scrolled past one of her images — a pair of weathered, hardworking hands, a quiet street glowing under night lights, a moment of everyday life tenderness — you know her work isn’t loud. It doesn’t shout. It invites you in.

Mili’s path into photography wasn’t a dramatic lightning-bolt moment — it was a gentle unfolding. A Sony digi-cam for nights out, a spark of curiosity while styling a product shoot, and that lingering what if that never quite left. But what really shaped her eye is her heart: a deep empathy, a love of people, and a fascination with the quiet stories we carry within.

Her Working Hands series (1 & 2) is a perfect example — an ode to the makers, the fixers, the carriers, the unseen. Sparked by a moment holding her mother’s hand, it’s a body of work rooted in love, recognition, and reverence.

And then there’s her nighttime photography. Dreamy, cinematic, whispered. The world slows down, shadows swell, and light becomes emotional. Her night photos don’t show places, they show feelings.

Onchain, she’s part of the Gratitude Economy — the $TYSM movement — where appreciation isn’t an afterthought but a creative force. To her, saying “thank you” isn’t small. It’s alchemical. It shifts mood, energy, connection, and maybe even the world itself.

This conversation is full of heart. The soft kind, the real kind. About empathy, craft, light, and love. Enjoy!

TGJ: Thinking back to when you first grabbed a camera, what was that moment like? Were you instantly hooked, cautiously curious, or more like, ‘Hmm… let’s see what happens if I press this button’?

Mili: The first camera I ever owned was a little Sony digi-cam & honestly, its main purpose was to document my legendary nights out 😂✨

My first real brush with photography though, happened while I was styling a product shoot. (Yes, I’m actually a photography stylist by profession) I picked up the camera more playfully than seriously very much in my “you never know” era.

Lucky for me, my partner’s a photographer, so I had my own personal tutor on standby 24/7 at absolutely zero cost.

TGJ: Your photos always feel very grounded and close to real life. Are there parts of your personal history that have shaped the way you notice things — the way you look at people, work, and quiet moments?

Mili: I’ve always been that curious kid who noticed everything & asked too many questions. My parents encouraged it — they’d tell me all these quotes about knowledge that I honestly don’t remember 😂 but the message stuck.

I just love people and their stories.

Those who know me know I’m a bit of an empath and wear my emotions on my sleeve & I guess all of that shows up in my photos - I don’t just take them, I feel them.

TGJ: Your Working Hands series is so full of character — welders, mechanics, carpenters, fishmongers, spice traders, seamsters, barbers… all of these hands create beauty and value quietly, often without recognition. They also tell stories. What first made you look at someone’s hands and think, “Wait — this is where the real story is”?

Mili: Oh boy, this one always gets me. It started with my mom. I was holding her hand one day and noticed how rough and wrinkled it had become. I started suggesting creams, and she just smiled and said, “Mili, these are working hands.” That line hit me deep. In that moment, I thought of all the unseen hands around us — the ones that build, create, and carry so much without ever being noticed. It came from love, from gratitude, and from wanting to give those hands the recognition they’ve quietly earned every single day. This is where the story began.

TGJ: Your night photography while traveling feels almost like stepping into someone else’s dream. What’s the most surprising thing you’ve discovered about a place when photographing it at night — a detail, a feeling, or a moment that wouldn’t have been there in daylight?

Mili: It’s magic. It’s mysterious. Night photography captures what daylight simply can’t. The world slows down, sounds fade, and light starts to behave differently - softer, moodier, a little secretive. There’s a certain glow around a subject, a reflection in a glass window, or that quiet feeling that something’s hiding in the corners - that’s what pulls me in. It’s a challenge, but that’s part of the thrill.

When I shot the Eiffel Tower as she lit up, it honestly felt otherworldly, like an out-of-body moment. Just me, the light, and this unexplainable connection that words can’t quite touch.

TGJ: You’re part of the Gratitude Economy — the $TYSM  culture of saying thank you loudly and often. How has giving and receiving gratitude online (and onchain) influenced your creative mood? And do you feel these sparks of appreciation could actually shake up the way we connect as humans?

Mili: Being part of the Gratitude Economy just feels right . It’s as simple as that. There’s real magic in a heartfelt TYSM.

When someone appreciates my work, it lifts me instantly. But honestly, giving gratitude feels just as good or even better.  It softens you, shifts your energy, & somehow makes everything flow better. It reminds me that art or any kind of creation isn’t a one-way street. It’s connection. It’s energy.

And yeah, I truly think these little sparks of gratitude can change things. If people hyped each other up online as easily as they drop opinions, we might just fix the internet one “thank you” at a time .

I’ve always believed in @nomadicframe someone I genuinely trust, admire, & look up to 💫 Grateful beyond words that he brought me onboard $TYSM  

It’s such a joy to be part of something built on good energy & gratitude. & huge love to @jeyloo.eth  and @buckyball  - their kindness, quick support, and positive vibes make everything feel even more special 💖

Connect with Milibooo on Farcaster 🔹 X 🔹 Foundation 🔹 Exchange Art 🔹 OpenSea

Read more about the Gratitude Economy and $TYSM