I know positively nothing about photography, but I happen to be a trained statistician. So, my strategy is based in probability. The more photos I snap, the greater the chance I’ll get something worth putting up on the wall.
Don’t steal my expert method. I’m thinking about naming it and getting a patent.
It’s finally not snowing, so we were outside taming my jungle of a yard. Hoss was playing around with rocks while I mulched, and built what appeared to be a Zen rock tower. An ebenezer, I’m told it’s called.
The tower sat atop freshly spread mulch and was positioned near another larger accent rock. I saw something there. I saw tranquility, I saw balance, I saw peace…
I saw a potential wall hanging to fill the newfound bare space in the bathroom that I had just painted. So I ran inside to get my camera.
I shot from every possible angle and distance, and I did, in fact, get a photo worth keeping.
See? My method works every time.
All the while, Hoss stood admiring his handiwork. His sister came away from digging in the dirt to see what all the fuss was about. She crouched down, examined the tower, and gave it a swift whack with her hand.
“Down,” she said to Hoss, expressionless, pointing to the rocks formerly known as tower.
Ah, impermanence. We have a miniature Zen master among us.