
Sign up to save your podcasts
Or
In episode 541 of the podcast, I dig into something that’s been a swirl of ideas, conversations and reactions from different things over the past few weeks. Each one was a little about balance, symmetry and living in an imperfect world. All those got me thinking about the notions of wabi sabi. It’s a Japanese aesthetic rooted in Zen Buddhism, and it’s all about finding beauty in imperfection, impermanence, and the natural cycles of life. For me, it’s become more than a concept—it’s a shift in how I approach photography, and honestly, how I move through the world.
Wabi sabi is about seeing beauty in things that are worn, aged, incomplete, or a little rough around the edges. It’s the cracked teacup, the faded sign, the rusted hinge. It’s the sense that something’s been lived in, weathered, and still has dignity and grace.
In photography, it’s not about giving up on craft. It’s about letting authenticity guide us behind the camera.
Perfection Isn’t the Point
So much of what we’re taught in photography pushes us toward the “perfect shot.” Clean compositions, straight lines, even lighting, perfect balance. But the more I photograph, the more I realize that perfection can at times flatten the emotion out of an image. Sure it is perfect, but it feels sort of soulless. Sometimes we chase those ideals because we want to feel like we’re in control, or because we’re trying to create a sense of calm. But the world isn’t always calm. It’s messy, unpredictable, and full of tension. The cracks, the tilt, the shadows that don’t quite cooperate—that’s where the real energy shows up.
There’s something powerful about the quiet, background details we often pass over. A small crack in the wall, an old sticker on a lamppost, the way moss grows on a forgotten step. Those things aren’t screaming for attention, but they hold a certain weight. They tell stories. They make you pause. I’ve found that the more I slow down and let myself really look, the more I notice these details—and the more they show up in my work in a meaningful way.
One of the things That rusted-out truck or broken down fence? It’s not just a subject—it’s a timeline. A memory. A history. Photography gives us a way to hold those moments, to document what time has done. More than anything, wabi sabi reminds us to slow down. Photography isn’t just about what we’re photographing—it’s about how we’re seeing. When I’m fully present, not trying to control everything, I start noticing stuff:. Things like the texture of a wall, the way the light skims across a surface, a beam of a shadow all become interesting subject matter. When I give myself the time to really see, the photographs that come out of that space tend to be the ones that mean the most to me.
If you want to dig deeper, Wabi Sabi for Artists, Designers, Poets & Philosophers by Leonard Koren is a great. It’s not dense and an really easy read. I’ve read it more than once, and every time I come back to it, I find something new.
Workshops Coming
If this way of seeing resonates with you, I’ve got a few workshops where we lean into exactly this kind of approach:
And if you haven’t subscribed to The Perceptive Photographer, it’s a good time to jump in. I’d love to keep this conversation going.
4.9
5454 ratings
In episode 541 of the podcast, I dig into something that’s been a swirl of ideas, conversations and reactions from different things over the past few weeks. Each one was a little about balance, symmetry and living in an imperfect world. All those got me thinking about the notions of wabi sabi. It’s a Japanese aesthetic rooted in Zen Buddhism, and it’s all about finding beauty in imperfection, impermanence, and the natural cycles of life. For me, it’s become more than a concept—it’s a shift in how I approach photography, and honestly, how I move through the world.
Wabi sabi is about seeing beauty in things that are worn, aged, incomplete, or a little rough around the edges. It’s the cracked teacup, the faded sign, the rusted hinge. It’s the sense that something’s been lived in, weathered, and still has dignity and grace.
In photography, it’s not about giving up on craft. It’s about letting authenticity guide us behind the camera.
Perfection Isn’t the Point
So much of what we’re taught in photography pushes us toward the “perfect shot.” Clean compositions, straight lines, even lighting, perfect balance. But the more I photograph, the more I realize that perfection can at times flatten the emotion out of an image. Sure it is perfect, but it feels sort of soulless. Sometimes we chase those ideals because we want to feel like we’re in control, or because we’re trying to create a sense of calm. But the world isn’t always calm. It’s messy, unpredictable, and full of tension. The cracks, the tilt, the shadows that don’t quite cooperate—that’s where the real energy shows up.
There’s something powerful about the quiet, background details we often pass over. A small crack in the wall, an old sticker on a lamppost, the way moss grows on a forgotten step. Those things aren’t screaming for attention, but they hold a certain weight. They tell stories. They make you pause. I’ve found that the more I slow down and let myself really look, the more I notice these details—and the more they show up in my work in a meaningful way.
One of the things That rusted-out truck or broken down fence? It’s not just a subject—it’s a timeline. A memory. A history. Photography gives us a way to hold those moments, to document what time has done. More than anything, wabi sabi reminds us to slow down. Photography isn’t just about what we’re photographing—it’s about how we’re seeing. When I’m fully present, not trying to control everything, I start noticing stuff:. Things like the texture of a wall, the way the light skims across a surface, a beam of a shadow all become interesting subject matter. When I give myself the time to really see, the photographs that come out of that space tend to be the ones that mean the most to me.
If you want to dig deeper, Wabi Sabi for Artists, Designers, Poets & Philosophers by Leonard Koren is a great. It’s not dense and an really easy read. I’ve read it more than once, and every time I come back to it, I find something new.
Workshops Coming
If this way of seeing resonates with you, I’ve got a few workshops where we lean into exactly this kind of approach:
And if you haven’t subscribed to The Perceptive Photographer, it’s a good time to jump in. I’d love to keep this conversation going.
401 Listeners
662 Listeners
26,205 Listeners
697 Listeners
2,016 Listeners
401 Listeners
56 Listeners
276 Listeners
23,980 Listeners
111 Listeners
114 Listeners
95 Listeners
295 Listeners
121 Listeners
86 Listeners