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Why the Best Photos Aren’t Always the Sharpest

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A few years ago, I was on holiday, and we visited Assateague Island in Virginia

There’s a huge beach that stretches toward the horizon on either side, where the Atlantic meets the shore.
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My son was charging up and down the sand, running through the wet shallows, and I was trying to photograph that youthful exuberance.

There was one image I absolutely fell in love with when I looked at the back of the camera. But later, I was incredibly disappointed—because it turned out he wasn’t in focus.

That’s an interesting reaction, and I think a lot of us share it.

The compulsive idea that the subject of a photograph must always be sharp.

I wonder if that comes from the fact that photography—while an art form, open to interpretation—is often neatly placed into little boxes.

Sharpness and focus are one such box.

It feels comforting. It suggests control. The ability to master something.

But of course, that moment with my son wasn’t about sharpness or clarity. It was about a feeling—being on this almost deserted beach, watching him run back and forth through the spray.
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Henri Cartier-Bresson once called sharpness a "bourgeois concept." He wasn’t dismissing skill; he was challenging the idea that sharpness alone is what makes a photograph worthwhile.

He talked about the decisive moment—that split second when everything aligns perfectly to elevate a photograph.

And often, that moment doesn’t wait for us to dial in the perfect settings. If I’m too busy fiddling with the camera, trying to get everything technically correct, I might miss it entirely.

In today’s pixel-peeping world, there’s a kind of courage in embracing imperfection—in trusting your eye, your instincts—and letting the story of the photograph take precedence over its sharpness.

Try This: Shoot With Feeling, Not Just Focus

This week, I want to gently challenge you:
Go out and shoot without worrying about technical perfection. Let yourself be a little reckless. Try zone focusing, or even shooting from the hip. Pay attention to gesture, rhythm, atmosphere.

Then look through your images. Which ones feel alive? Which ones stay with you, even if they’re a little fuzzy?

You might be surprised at what you find.

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In the Community

I recently asked you to submit photos on the topic of your home town
Here's a look at what was submitted:
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In keeping with this week's theme, please submit your take on shooting with feeling here​

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Featured Photographer: Henri Cartier-Bresson

Cartier-Bresson is often called the father of modern photojournalism, but I prefer to think of him as a philosopher with a Leica. He saw photography not as a craft of precision, but as a dance between observation and instinct.

A co-founder of Magnum Photos, he spent his life capturing fleeting, unrepeatable moments with clarity of vision, not just focus. He refused to crop his photos, believing in framing as a discipline. And while he mastered the mechanics, he never let them overshadow the meaning.

His images don’t shout. They hum. They whisper something deeply human. They remind us that being present—attuned to time, place, and gesture—is far more valuable than being perfect.

And maybe that’s the real lesson: A photograph’s power lies not in its sharpness, but in its soul.

​https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henri_Cartier-Bresson​

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Personal Photo Feedback

As one of the wonderful people reading this newsletter, I'd like to offer you an opportunity for a 15-minute Zoom call to discuss one of your photos and how to improve your work.
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These are just £10 (I'd like to offer them for free, but to ensure people don't book up the limited slots and then not show, I have to ask for a small commitment), and are limited to 5 per week.
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​You can book a session here​
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Thanks again for reading. I hope you have an awesome week!
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Alex