destinylaharris

Tag: observation

  • 📸 Learning to Look Closer #16: After the Noise

    At first glance, there isn’t much happening in this photograph.

    An empty set of bleachers. A fence surrounding a ballfield. Trees silhouetted against the fading light.

    Nothing particularly exciting.

    But look a little closer.

    There’s a red ball sitting in the grass, just outside the fence.

    It’s such a small detail that you could easily miss it. I almost wonder how many people would look at this photograph without noticing it at all.

    And yet, once you see it, it’s hard to stop looking at it.

    I don’t know who left it there. Maybe someone forgot it. Maybe they planned to come back for it. Maybe it had been sitting there for hours before I ever took the picture.

    I have no idea.

    But I started thinking about how different places can feel depending on when we see them.

    A ballfield is usually somewhere you’d expect to hear people laughing, shouting, cheering, or arguing over whether somebody was actually out. 😂

    There are games to be played, people to watch, and probably at least one person taking everything a little too seriously.

    But here?

    Nothing.

    Just empty seats, an empty field, and one little red ball.

    It’s funny how a place doesn’t have to change for it to feel completely different.

    The bleachers are still there. The fence hasn’t moved. The field is exactly where it was before.

    The only thing missing is the activity we associate with it.

    And I think that’s what caught my attention about this photograph.

    Not everything interesting has to be happening right in front of us.

    Sometimes, it’s what isn’t happening that makes us stop and look.

    I could have photographed the sky. The colors were beautiful, and the trees looked lovely against the fading light.

    But I like this picture better.

    Because there’s something about an empty place that makes you notice things you probably wouldn’t have seen when it was full.

    Like a little red ball sitting quietly in the grass.

    Something ordinary.

    Something easily overlooked.

    Something that made me stop for just a moment longer.

    And sometimes, that’s enough.

    Until next time,

    — Destiny

    P.S. Have you ever visited a familiar place when nobody else was around and realized how different it felt without all the usual noise?

  • 📷 Learning to Look Closer #12: Between the Songs

    Concert photography makes you want to chase the obvious moments.

    The singer at the microphone.

    The lights hitting perfectly.

    The crowd with their hands in the air.

    The big moments.

    But sometimes I like the ones in between better.

    I took this photo at the concert, and there isn’t actually a whole lot happening in it.

    She isn’t singing into a microphone.

    There isn’t a giant explosion of lights behind her.

    There aren’t a hundred things fighting for your attention.

    It’s just her.

    Standing on the edge of the stage.

    Arms stretched toward the ceiling.

    Purple light and smoke filling almost everything around her.

    And somehow, that makes her feel even smaller and the moment feel even bigger.

    That’s what I keep coming back to when I look at this picture.

    The space.

    I could have cropped most of it away.

    I could have brought her closer and made her fill the frame.

    But I don’t think I want to.

    Because the empty space is part of the photograph.

    It shows how big that stage felt.

    How much atmosphere was hanging in the air.

    How one person can take up such a tiny part of a photograph and still be the first thing your eye finds.

    And I love the way she’s reaching into all of it.

    There’s something about concerts that photographs never quite capture.

    You can photograph the artist.

    You can photograph the lights.

    You can photograph the smoke.

    But you can’t really photograph the bass vibrating through your chest or the sound of hundreds of people singing the same words.

    You can’t photograph what it feels like to hear a song you love performed right in front of you.

    But every once in a while, I take a picture that feels like it caught a tiny piece of that feeling anyway.

    I think this is one of those.

    Not because I caught the biggest moment.

    Because I noticed the smaller one.

    And sometimes, when I look closer, those are the pictures I end up loving most.

    Until next time,
    —Destiny

    P.S. When you take pictures at concerts or events, do you usually photograph the big moments—or the little ones happening in between?

  • Learning to Look Closer #3

    Some people will look at this photo and see a little boy playing with a hat that’s much too big for him.

    I see something else.

    For as long as I can remember, I’ve had this silly habit of balancing random things on my head and dramatically “sneezing” them off just to make him laugh.

    The other day, he crawled up beside me, grabbed my hat, pulled it over his face, and started trying to “sneeze” it off himself.

    Nobody taught him to do that.

    He was watching.

    It’s funny how children are paying attention long before we realize they are. They notice our words, our habits, our routines, and even the little things we do without thinking.

    Sometimes, they love us by becoming a little bit like us.

    That realization stopped me in my tracks.

    This picture isn’t just of my nephew wearing a hat that’s too big for him.

    It’s a reminder that someone I love is learning from me every single day.

    And if I’m being honest…

    That melts my whole heart.

    I wouldn’t picture my life being any better without him.

    Until next time,

    -Destiny

    P.S.-What’s something you’ve caught a child doing that made you stop and think, “Yep… they definitely got that from me.” 😂

  • Learning to Look Closer #2: Just Outside the Window

    My nephew was standing at the window this morning when a tiny robber fly flew up to the glass.

    For a minute, it almost seemed like they were entertaining each other.

    It would fly away, then come back again, hovering just long enough to catch his attention. Every time it returned, he lit up a little more.

    Then it landed.

    I grabbed my phone, quietly walked over, and snapped a single picture through the window.

    One click.

    That was all I got.

    As soon as the photo was taken, it lifted off and disappeared.

    The whole moment probably lasted less than a minute.

    Most people would’ve seen a bug on a window.

    I saw a tiny reminder that wonder doesn’t always announce itself.

    Sometimes it visits for thirty seconds, waits patiently while you’re paying attention, and leaves before you realize you’ve just been given something worth remembering.

    Maybe that’s why I love photography.

    Not because it lets me capture beautiful things.

    Because it reminds me to notice them while they’re still here.

    Until next time,

    —Destiny

    P.S. Have you ever had an ordinary moment that stayed with you far longer than you expected?