The other day I picked up "Why People Photograph" by Robert Adams at Dog Eared books. It is not a photography manual of any kind. Robert didn’t focus on aperture settings or the rule of thirds. Instead, he delved into how we see, really see, through a lens.

I bought my first camera years ago. Aimed it at sunsets, faces, and landscapes. Got my likes on social profiles. Felt good, but also a bit hollow. Adams made me realize why. I was capturing, not seeing.

He insists to investigate the "why" behind each click. Sounds like a buzzword, but it is a simple practice. I took time to revisit my old photos, seeing them anew. Some still held up; they told a story or caught a genuine emotion. Others felt shallow, like pretty but empty inside.

When I look through the lens now, it’s different. It's not about what's simply pleasing or dramatic. It's about what's true. Sometimes that’s a crooked tree, other times a cheerful smile or a faded sign. The frame is no longer just a stage for subjects; it’s a space for truths.

Robert suggests that great photos have a quietness about them, a visual hush that lets the viewer feel. I get that now. I now take an extra second, a deep breath, and mindfully compose that frame. This has also grown me as a designer.