Why you should chase the light, not the subjects?
For a long time, I thought photography was about finding things. The striking building. The unusual character. The landmark worth pointing a lens at. But over time, I realised my best images didn't come from chasing subjects, they came from following the light.
The moment you stop hunting for objects and start noticing illumination, the world changes. Early morning sun streaming between buildings becomes a stage light. A puddle on the pavement transforms into a mirror. Even an ordinary wall is suddenly alive when a shadow cuts across it at the right angle. Light, not things, is what turns the everyday into the extraordinary.
I remember one early spring afternoon when I was climbing to the top of the rotunda in Copenhagen. As I made my way up, a large crowd began to exit the rotunda, so I decided to pause for a moment and let them pass. While I mindlessly gazed at the wall, I suddenly discovered a hidden gem. The sun started to set, and its golden rays streamed through the windows. Following the sunlight, I noticed a lone figure slowly walking down, their silhouette framed in a golden glow on the wall. I quickly grabbed my camera, eager to capture the moment. The photograph wasn't just about the person - it was about the light enveloping them, creating the unscripted story only illumination could tell.
When you let illumination lead the way, your eyes adjust differently. You notice the sharp geometry of shadows on concrete. You look for reflections in glass, in water, in the sheen of a passing car. You learn that fog isn't just weather, it's a softbox that turns the whole world into a studio. Suddenly, you're less concerned about what's in front of the lens and more curious about how it's being lit.
I'd encourage you to try this next time you're out - resist the urge to search for "subjects." Instead, follow where the light falls. Track the golden hour as it brushes rooftops. Chase the sharp lines of late afternoon shadows. Step closer to puddles, panes, and polished surfaces and see what new compositions emerge.
You'll discover that even mundane corners, like a staircase, a parked bicycle, a window ledge, can come alive when the right light touches them. And in that moment, you're not just photographing what's there, you're photographing the atmosphere, the mood, the very breath of time passing.
Subjects fade, but light is endless. Once you start chasing it, you'll never see the world the same way again.