08/09/2026
๐๐โ๐ง๐ ๐๐ก๐ก ๐๐ฉ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ง๐๐ฃ๐ฉ ๐ฅ๐ก๐๐๐๐จ ๐ค๐ฃ ๐ค๐ช๐ง ๐ฅ๐๐ค๐ฉ๐ค๐๐ง๐๐ฅ๐๐ฎ ๐๐ค๐ช๐ง๐ฃ๐๐ฎ.
I shot this image many years ago and at the time I was delighted with it. Itโs sharp, the colours work well and the directional light brings out the shapes, textures and earthy colours of the clay pots. The wide angle and low viewpoint give them presence and that huge sky adds a sense of scale.
At the time, though, I didnโt fully understand just how important choosing the right quality of light for the subject could be. Some of what worked here was instinct rather than conscious choice.
Today I look at it and think itโs an OK photograph of some pots. Thereโs nothing particularly wrong with it, but it doesnโt move, touch or inspire me. And thatโs a good thing because it shows me how much my photography has changed.
Itโs very easy to look at photographs made by someone more experienced and compare their work with our own. Psychologists call this upward social comparison, and used badly it can leave us feeling inadequate and thinking, โIโll never be that good.โ
But comparison can be incredibly valuable if we change the question.
Instead of asking โWhy arenโt my pictures as good as theirs?โ, ask โWhy does their picture engage me when mine doesnโt?โ
Is it the light? Composition? Timing? Focal length? A moment? The story? What choices did that photographer make that caused me to feel something?
Those questions turn comparison into learning.
Never judge where you are on your photography journey by where somebody else is on theirs. Look at great photography, be curious about why it works, then take what you discover and try it for yourself.
