Photography, like any artistic pursuit, needs to be cultivated. You have to invest in it. And while cameras, lenses, and accessories are often the focus of photographic investment, what can really elevate your craft is putting more of yourself into your work.
The Trap of Perfection
Photography has always wrestled with the idea of what makes an image "good." In the digital age, where every shot can be pixel-peeped and scrutinized at 200% magnification, high-quality photography is often reduced to technical perfection. In chasing after these more measurable qualities, something essential gets lost.
Sharpness is perhaps the biggest culprit. A perfectly sharp image, where every blade of grass and every grain of sand is rendered with exquisite clarity, is easy to admire. It’s quantifiable. It’s a known standard.
Composition has similarly become a technical skill. We can analyze whether an image follows the rule of thirds or perhaps has a perfectly centered subject, whether the leading lines are strong enough, or if there’s a well-used repeating pattern. Along with composition, exposure is often deemed to be right or wrong. The image is well exposed, or it isn’t.
These are all aspects of photography that can be assessed with a degree of objectivity. They provide a sense of control, boxes to tick in order to easily answer the ever-present question: “Is this a good photo?”
But there’s a hidden danger in this approach. When prioritizing what we can measure, we start valuing those elements above all else. Prizing technical execution easily creates an emotional disconnect from our own work, as well as the work of others. Instead of asking whether an image moves us, we ask whether it is sharp enough. Instead of considering what drew us to take the shot in the first place, we question whether it adheres to compositional guidelines.
This focus on this perfection leads to strange incongruity in our art. A photographer may capture multiple versions of a scene, each technically sound, each adhering to the same high standards. But then comes the uncertainty: which is the best? The decision is so difficult that it is not uncommon to turn to social media, posting multiple versions and asking, “Which do you prefer?” We hesitate to trust our own instincts. We look for validation from others, hoping for an answer that will confirm what we already suspect—or that will make the decision for us. In doing so, we relinquish a piece of our artistic autonomy. We lose the ability to make our own choices, about our own work.
Lead With Yourself
There’s another way to approach photography, one that goes beyond technical precision. It starts with shifting focus away from perfection and toward intention. Instead of viewing images as collections of sharp edges and well-placed lines, see them as reflections of the emotions you felt when you pressed the shutter. Photography is not just about capturing a scene; it’s about capturing an experience, a connection, a vision. Only you know what made you lift your camera in the moment. Only you know why you framed the shot the way you did.
Engaging with your own images in this way changes everything. It allows you to understand your own photography in a deeper, more meaningful way. You begin to see patterns in your work—subjects that draw you in, lighting conditions that resonate with you, styles that emerge organically. You become more aware of what excites you, what inspires you, and what speaks to you.
This awareness should guide your decisions. When selecting images to edit, don’t simply choose the sharpest or the most technically sound. Choose the one that evokes the feeling you had when shooting, the one that best represents your connection with the scene. If you find yourself debating between two versions of an image, don’t ask which is "better" in a conventional sense. Ask which one better reflects the moment as you experienced it. Which one feels closer to the vision you had when you took the photo? Which one best conveys the emotion you want to share?
This same approach should be used while making editing decisions. Acknowledge how you feel in that moment, sitting in front of your computer. How does that feeling commingle with your memory of the experience capturing the photo? What emotional valence rises to the surface? Let these parts of you guide your editing decisions. Remember that while there may be many different objectively good results, there is one that will be more true for you.
By prioritizing these types of questions over technical perfection, you’ll find a greater sense of clarity in your work. Editing becomes an extension of your artistic vision rather than a pursuit of flawlessness. The images you create will feel more personal, more intentional, and ultimately, more meaningful.
Learn to Be Fearless
The hardest part of embracing this mindset is that it makes your work more personal. If your images are no longer judged purely by technical standards, but instead by how deeply they reflect your vision, then feedback—whether positive or negative—can feel more personal too. It’s easier to dismiss criticism or take a critique on board when you know you followed all the technical rules. It’s harder when the image is an honest expression of what moved you.
But here’s the paradox: the more personal your work is, the less external criticism should matter. If a photo truly represents your vision, then someone else’s approval or disapproval does not change its value or meaning. Their reaction cannot invalidate your experience, your connection, or your intent.
Leaning into this approach doesn’t just help you create more meaningful work—it helps you grow as a photographer. You stop chasing the impersonal ideal of technical perfection and start honing something far more valuable: your unique perspective. Your artistic voice. Your ability to translate feeling into imagery. This growth happens much faster when you engage with photography in this way, rather than if you simply continue refining sharpness and composition without deeper reflection.
So let go of the trap of perfection. Shift your focus from measurable technical qualities to the intangible, yet powerful, aspects of photography—emotion, connection, vision. Trust yourself to choose the images that speak to you. Lean into what excites you. And most importantly, don’t be afraid to let your work reflect who you are.
