Sometime, all you need is a shape. Detail is superfluous when outlines tell a story. This is my mother, Gladys, fifty-five years ago. I probably mis-judged the back-lighting, but I like to think that I was concerned only with capturing a shape.
You expect rain in Manchester. When I was there last week it rained from the moment I got off the train until the moment I stepped back on...
This is a beautiful picture. Look, you even have the shape of steam from the pot. I love it.
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