The Philosophy of Intuition
Trust Your Instincts: The Art of Following Intuition in Photography
There’s a moment before you pull the trigger—before you press the shutter—that defines the shot. It’s instinct. A gut feeling. That moment when you just know something is right. You don’t hesitate. You don’t overthink. You just move. That’s intuition in its purest form, and in photography, it’s everything.
In this world, everyone’s got an opinion. Too many voices, too many perspectives. Some will tell you to shoot a certain way, to follow the rules, to color inside the lines. Others will tell you to abandon all structure, let chaos take over, and just create. But the truth? Creativity isn’t found at either extreme. It lives somewhere in between—where your instincts meet the influences that have shaped you.
Creativity Comes From Within—But It’s Fed by the World Around You
Art isn’t about pleasing everyone. It’s about telling a story, capturing a moment, showing the world through your eyes. When you create, you’re putting a piece of yourself into the world, and that piece is shaped by everything you’ve ever consumed—every book you’ve read, every movie that’s hit you hard, every game that’s immersed you so deep you forgot reality for a while. These things matter. They build you, shape your taste, refine your sense of what’s worth capturing.
I’ve walked down alleys where neon signs cast a cold blue light against rain-slick pavement, and the only thing running through my mind was Blade Runner. I’ve watched shadows stretch across an empty subway car and felt the tension of a scene straight out of The Last of Us. I’ve stepped into a golden-hour street fight of light and shadow, and all I could think about was the way The Godfather used warmth to create menace. None of that was coincidence. It was instinct—my intuition trained by the things I love.
The Fine Line Between Advice and Noise
You’ll hear a lot of advice in photography. Some of it good. Some of it just noise. “Use the rule of thirds.” “Always shoot in RAW.” “Don’t center your subject.” It’s all well and good until it starts dictating your creativity rather than refining it. Advice is a tool, not a law. Use it when it serves you, discard it when it doesn’t.
I remember the first time I was told not to shoot in low light without a tripod. “Too much noise,” they said. “You’ll lose detail.” But I didn’t listen. I shot anyway. The result? An imperfect, grainy image—but one that had soul. It felt raw, real, alive. Sometimes, breaking the so-called rules is what makes a shot worth taking.
That’s the balance—listening just enough to learn, but never so much that you lose your own voice. You take what resonates, leave what doesn’t, and move forward with your gut leading the way.
Finding Inspiration in the Everyday
The world is full of art, and most people don’t even notice it. They walk past a decaying wall, a flickering streetlight, a face lost in thought on a bus, and they see nothing. But you? You see the shot. You see the texture in that cracked paint, the mood in that dim glow, the story in that distant gaze. You recognize art because you’ve trained yourself to see it.
Some of the best photographers aren’t the ones chasing the next big landscape or exotic location. They’re the ones finding magic in the mundane, turning the ordinary into something unforgettable. And often, that vision comes from everything else they love. If video games are your thing, you start seeing cinematic compositions in the real world. If you’re drawn to noir films, your eye starts catching the way light and shadow play on the streets at night. If you read novels that paint vivid scenes, you start framing life as if it were a story waiting to be told.
The Only Opinion That Truly Matters
At the end of the day, it’s your art. Your shot. Your moment. Take inspiration from the things you love. Listen to advice with an open mind. But when it’s time to press the shutter, trust yourself. Because in that split second, there’s only one person’s vision that matters—and that’s yours.