what's the focal point!!...
many many years ago, in fact it was over a decade back, I was meeting with the art director of Woman and HoMe magazine and had my tranNies spread out on his lightbox. He picked on one coastal scene and commentEd that it was 'rather interesting but lacked a FOCAL Point.'
I didn't have the heart to tell him that his previous editor, ORLANDO Murrin had deemed that same shot worthy of a double page spread, a superb decision if I say so myself. But Orlando always deserved my respect and had real Vision.

This obsession with focal points is, thankfully, waning now. It's always been my opinion that an image doesn't need a main point of interest to communicate with the viewer. How many novels are multi stranded? So why can't our pictures be!
These shots were taken on the last day of our holiday in Pembrokeshire. It was late. The sun was long since gone. Of course I had no tripod. My feet were wet from paddling and my Canon Powershot Pro was set at a painful iso. But still the shutter speed was lazy.

I loved that place. and wantEd to remember it so I Took thEse shots.

They captured my feelings. Entraped my emotions of the moment. And What More can we ASK of a picture?

Where is the focal point?

Do the shots speak to you?

Tell me...
you see, what matters most is that the shot tells the story. Forget technicalities, if the shot grabs you, simply shoot it. Analyse the details later. Learn from your mistakes but don't neglect the nature of what you are doing.

A picture is worth a thousand words, as the author of the picture it's up to You to make eVery one of them CounT.

Focal Points are good. But if you don't see one ask yourself 'does it matter?'
AS an aside, I was walking the streets, tramping the pavements with my portfolio several years later when I bumped into Orlando. He was genuinely surprised when he saw me and commented on how much I now looked like a city boy and fitted in with the Londoncrowd! I had workEd hard to 'fit in' and it had obviously paid off.

I wanted to please, being young.

Leaving behind my old 'scratch and sniff' Barbour jacket was probably a milestone in the civilising of Jason Smalley.
I have since grown up and now, when I wander the streets of London, I look most definitely like a Lancashire country chap out of his element.

I still stare up at the skyscrapers and occasionally point at passing aircraft.

But perhaps I don't smell quite as eloquently of Holstein Friesian.

Remember. Be True to You. Let it show through your pictures
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