The Trick Is Just to Look

Notes on vision, attention, and getting better by looking longer.

When I’m out shooting for myself, I’m usually looking for interesting compositions, color harmonies, and cozy, familiar subjects. I like buildings against blue skies, mannequins in shop windows, neon signs, and mundane things that happen to be sitting in good light. In short, I’m looking for things that seem to be asking to have their picture taken.

If something catches my eye and I have my camera, I'm gonna take its picture. Not everything works, but most things can, from the right angle or in the right light. That’s the fun of it. You start to realize that anything is worth photographing if you can find a way to make it interesting. Once you see that, it’s hard to stop seeing it.

I wanted to be a good photographer long before I became one. Somewhere along the way, I found my visual identity. I don’t think it was a moment of learning so much as something that started happening naturally over time. The more time I spent with my camera, the more clearly I started to understand what I wanted to make with it. And once I knew how to use it, I wanted to point it at everything.

Which meant I had to figure out how to make everything look remotely interesting.

The cool thing is, most of it does. Figuring that out is what made me feel like a photographer for the first time. It was no longer just about taking pictures. It was about deciding how I wanted to see the world, and using the camera to show it.

If you’re trying to sharpen your eye, start by pointing your camera at everything. And when you don’t have your camera, stay mindful about framing, color, and light. Ask yourself, “How would I photograph that?” You don’t always need to answer, but keep asking.

Also, learn to love failure. Nothing moves you forward like it. And be kind to your former self. Your art was valid from the moment you decided to be an artist. That younger version of you deserves all the grace you can give them.

When I was getting started, I tried everything. I mimicked artists I admired. It helped me figure out what I liked and what I didn’t. I don’t have much interest in photographing cars or babies. Not because there’s anything wrong with them, but because I don’t find either to be particularly dynamic. I had to take pictures of cars and babies to figure that out. Trying a little of everything helped me find what I actually enjoy.

A note to new photographers: don’t rush to define your identity. You don’t need to have a “thing” yet. When I first started, I tried to break the rules before I even knew why the rules existed. That’s fine. Most people do. But looking back, the biggest shift in my work came when I started replicating the work I admired. That’s what gave me range. Once I understood how to use the tools and how great images were built, I was able to develop my own visual identity. Reverse engineering, I suppose.

If you want to break the rules, at least know which ones you’re breaking and why.

When my photos work, it’s usually because something about the moment felt worth preserving. Could be the light, the subject, the atmosphere, or any combination thereof. The important thing is something about it nudged me to look a little longer.