uncomposed

Composition. Is it really exists? Ten rules of, 5 rules of, golden section et cetera… Yeah, I’m sick of it: pleasant to your eyes, to your soul, blah-blah-blah…

This is like saying: this is not a home, this is only an apartment. Who says? Who are you to judge my home? On what basis you judge my apartment being not a home? ‘Cause you would not live in it? Or you can not imagine yourself living in it? Picture this again: stay around a bit, know me, feed the fishes, sprinkle the flowers, wash the dishes. Feed yourself, but not necessarily with food. Maybe with something spiritual. A book, maybe. Stay. Maybe you didn’t stay enough. Maybe this is the place where you will be the most beloved person in this world. And maybe is not yours, but definitely mine. And I feel cozy with it. Nay, I love it. To live it. In it. So what’s your problem?

Compose your image. Shoot your picture. Nevermind the composition. Feel the spirit swelling in you. Show this to the world. Shout it out loud. This is my picture. This is my soul.

And last but not least: be proud of it.

It’s you. Nothing but you.

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