Between things

When I go looking for images, I pay attention to the spaces between things.

Not just what’s in the frame, but how the distances feel.

Even spacing can bring a quiet sense of control, a calm that holds the composition together. It’s subtle, but it matters. Sometimes, it’s the difference between a snapshot and something that lingers.

Most of the time, I start with the subject. Something that simply catches my eye. The rest of the composition grows around it. But after a while, that becomes too simple. So I begin to look for a second subject, something that complements, contrasts, or creates a small conversation within the frame. Suddenly, the image becomes more than just a subject; it becomes a story.

Then I start layering. I look at the whole frame, from front to back, left to right. I begin with the location itself, then I find something for the foreground, something that anchors the scene. I place my main subject in the midground, and then I search for details in the background that quietly complete the story. Sometimes, this part takes patience. Often, it’s a waiting game — the moment arrives when the light shifts, or a person moves into the right place, and suddenly, the frame feels alive.

There’s also the way our eyes move through an image. I often think about it like reading text: from left to right, usually starting at the brightest point. So I try to guide the viewer gently through the frame, something bright on the left draws the eye, the subject anchors the middle, and the gaze moves across the rest of the image, looping back again. A well layered photograph keeps the viewer inside the frame instead of letting them glance and move on.

Color plays its part, too. Too many tones can make a photograph feel busy, unless that’s the look you’re going for. I usually aim for simplicity, a rough balance. One simple method I like is the 60 - 30 - 10 rule: sixty percent one color, thirty another, and ten of a contrasting accent. It’s not exact science, but it gives the frame rhythm, a quiet harmony that feels natural.

Photography, for me, is as much about waiting and watching as it is about pressing the shutter.

It’s about noticing the subtle conversations between elements, the rhythm of light and shadow, the way color guides the eye.

It’s about finding balance, patience, and the space between things.

Because often, that’s where the photograph really lives.