I think this kind of gameful mindset plays an important role when amateur photographers transition to being professionals. I am not talking about necessarily taking a plunge to become a full-time pro right away. In my case, for example, I enjoy a challenge of tackling professional projects as mini-missions in a computer game. The similarities between them are numerous: in both cases there are challenges to overcome, skills to learn, people to interact with, etc. I always anticipate success at the particular project, but at the same time, because I am not doing photography full-time, the stakes are not so high that failure is not an option.
I personally see the grain of truth in the concept of doing the work for ourselves in the fact that doing something consistently, on the daily basis, and fully engaging in the activity (i.e. “showing up”) requires enthusiasm, and it is not possible to be genuinely enthusiastic about something without being interested in it. This echoes Richard Feynman’s story of how he re-discovered scientific research for himself after being burnt out during the work on Manhattan project. He said that decided to work on problems that were fun, without worrying about whether they were already solved by someone else or if they would potentially lead to important discoveries or applications.
Of course, asking a stranger to take a photo has disadvantages. For one, there is a psychological barrier of striking a conversation. Perhaps, more importantly, there is no control of how the person would compose a shot. In my experience, the chance of getting a reasonably good photo by asking a random tourist to take it is less than 50%. More often than not, my face would end up dead centre in the frame and/or out-of-focus.
The location of the castle in the middle of a modern metropolis is in sharp contrast to the deep moats, surrounding its high walls, the original purpose of which was clear – warfare. A man was throwing frisbee to his dog in the grass-covered moat, and I could not make up my mind what was more out-of-place – this peaceful scene or the stone cannonballs piled up in the moats. I think it’s the former; the calm of a modern city life and seemed like a superficial patina on the tough nature of the place.
Amazing thing about Gothic cathedrals is that they take enormous amounts of time to construct and require restoration immediately after being built. The amount of detail in their 
Also, paradoxically, a good photo can potentially engage the viewer more than a video would precisely because a photo contains less information (there is no sound, no physical movement, etc.) Therefore, the viewer has to rely on his/her own experience and imagination to fill in what is missing in a photo: e. g. how fast is the sprinter running? How strong is the wind? How hot is the weather? Perhaps, a good photo is a kind of collaboration between the photographer and the audience, and that is why it can be both produced and enjoyed with a limited time commitment from either side. 
Personally, I prefer when some travel plans are set in advance (the planning process itself is an important and exciting part of the trip), but some details are left to be finalized on the spot (this certainly applies to the menu choices of each meal). The balance between giving only few prescribed options and allowing some freedom to customize the experience is tricky. In a sense, it is like selecting a watch face of an apple watch: you have many options to play with, but not enough to paralyze you with indecision. 
What distinguishes the gothic cathedral for me is that it looks like its elements are flying upward, as if in an explosion of vertical lines and tiny details. I tried to show this by using a wide lens (
, which distorts the image in favour of keeping the straight lines straight).
