What makes a photograph a masterpiece?
Is it the perfect composition, the ideal lighting, and the technical precision? Or is it something far simpler—something raw, intimate, and deeply personal: the emotion it holds and the story it tells?

Over the years, I’ve come to believe it’s the latter. The true value of a photo isn’t found in its pixels or its perfection. It’s found in its heart.

I remember how captivated I was by photography’s technical brilliance when I first began learning in my first year. I studied the rule of thirds, framing, leading lines, negative space, and other compositional techniques. There’s undeniable beauty in mastering these skills because those are what  help us shape visual narratives with intention and clarity.

But somewhere along the way, I began to question whether these complexities were truly necessary to make a photo meaningful. We’re we chasing perfection at the cost of authenticity? Did every image need to be technically flawless to be emotionally resonant?

This made me wonder: Are we overcomplicating something that’s meant to be simple and human?

The Beauty in the Everyday

I’ve come to believe that true beauty doesn’t lie in grand landscapes or dramatic portraits. While composition and lighting can elevate a story, they don’t determine the worth of a photograph. A masterpiece isn’t defined by a critic—it’s defined by the heart behind the lens.

The perfect fleeting moment captured in time isn’t always what’s considered extraordinary. The extraordinary can be found in the ordinary—in the quiet, everyday moments we often overlook. These fleeting fragments of life, mundane and imperfect, carry stories that resonate far deeper than any staged composition.

I remember how I was instinctively drawn to capturing moments of my family, relatives, and friends simply living their everyday lives. One photo I took of my grandmother and her friends—elderly women seated together in her living room—remains close to my heart. I edited it slightly, printed it, and gave it to them. That small act of service made me realize how much heart goes into a photograph. It wasn’t technically “good,” but it was real.

Another photo I cherish is of a man lying on the pathway of a train platform. It made me feel unexpectedly glad—not because of its composition, but because of the intention behind it. I wanted to preserve the authenticity of that moment, and that purpose gave the image its meaning.

The Photos That Make Us Feel

That one photo you’ve captured – a slightly blurry shot of a loved one or a simple moment from your day can stand out to you. It might have no perfect lighting or artistic framing, but its masterpiece lies in the heart that went into it.

Every time you look at your own photograph, you might be transported back to that time, with memories unfolding because of the story behind it. It’s the photo that warms you, that brings back the love you felt in that moment. That photo, to you, could be a gem- the most meaningful photograph-and no one dares to say otherwise.

I hope this comes to you as a reminder that photography isn’t just about what we see but also about what we feel. And often, the most powerful stories are found in the smallest details.

So I ask you:
Think about your favorite photo.
Is it a perfectly posed portrait? Or is it the candid, slightly imperfect shot that holds a universe of memory?

What Story Do You Want to Remember?

At its core, photography is about remembering. It’s about preserving emotion, capturing connection, and telling stories that matter not just to the world, but to us.

A photograph isn’t a masterpiece because a critic says so. It’s a masterpiece because of the heart and memory it holds for the person who captured it. The technical aspects are tools, yes -but they’re not the goal.

I’ve learned that the photos I treasure most aren’t the ones I perfected but the ones that made me feel.

So the next time you pick up your phone or camera, you could perhaps put aside the rules for a moment and ask yourself:
“What story do I want to remember?”

The answer to that question will lead you to your own masterpiece.

Rügono Seyie