There Are No Rules in Photography

People love to talk about "rules" in photography. Rule of thirds, leading lines, golden ratios — you hear it everywhere. Let’s cut through that: there are no rules to break. These so-called "rules" are just suggestions, habits, patterns that someone noticed worked sometimes. They can be useful, but they aren’t laws. In creative photography, there’s nothing to follow and nothing to break. You do what works for you, for the shot, for the story you want to tell.

Now, photojournalism? That’s different. There, the rules matter. Ethics matter. You can’t make things up or stage moments and still call it journalism. When you're documenting reality, honesty comes first. In that space, you follow the rules — not for the art, but for the truth.

Photography Competitions? They’re a Sham

Let’s talk about competitions. People chase awards like they’re some golden ticket to becoming a better photographer. They’re not. Photography competitions are often nothing more than a popularity contest wrapped in a business model. Some are just cash grabs looking to rake in entry fees. Others reward whatever style happens to be trending this year.

They don’t make you better. Winning a competition rarely teaches you anything. Losing doesn’t either. And the judges? They’re just people with opinions, just like you.

If you want to grow as a photographer, don’t chase trophies. Spend your time making photos that matter to you. Practice. Try new things. Get honest feedback from people you trust, not strangers who have thirty seconds to glance at your image. Real growth happens when you shoot for yourself, not for judges.

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Bottom Line

Photography is personal. It’s how you see the world. Forget about the rules. Forget about the competitions. Just pick up your camera and make something real.

Tip: Left-Eye Dominant? Here’s How I Keep Both Eyes Open When Shooting

I’m left-eye dominant, but I shoot with my right eye through the viewfinder. That combo can be tricky—especially when trying to keep both eyes open while tracking action. My dominant eye (the left) naturally wants to take over, pulling attention away from what I’m trying to frame with the right.

Here’s the simple habit that works for me:

I close my left eye briefly to lock in composition and exposure with my right eye. Once I’m visually “anchored,” I reopen the left eye. By then, my brain is focused on the viewfinder, and my left eye can just scan the scene for movement or distractions.

It’s a small adjustment, but it’s made a big difference—especially when shooting birds, sports, or anything that moves fast. Over time, it’s become second nature.

If you’re left-eye dominant and using your right eye to shoot, give this a try. Your brain will adapt faster than you think.

Good Form in a Shared Space

I’ve been thinking about something that pops up now and then, especially in photography groups and online communities.

Let’s say two photographers, on different days, take the same photo. Not just similar — I mean really similar. Same subject. Same angle. Same lighting. Maybe even the same moment of the day. And viewed side-by-side, they’re essentially identical.

Here’s the thing: even if I’ve taken that photo myself, and even if I think I’ve done a good job with it, I generally won’t post it on the same platform where someone else just shared theirs. To me, that’s a matter of good form.

Why? Because once it’s been shown, it’s been seen. I’m not trying to compete with someone who already captured that scene. I’m not trying to prove I was also there, or that I saw it better. The image may be mine, but the moment in the conversation isn’t.

Sure, someone could argue that every image is unique — different pixels, different sensors, different edits. That’s true. And from a technical standpoint, there’s always a way to find differences. But when we share photos with others, we’re not just posting pixels. We’re sharing presence. And I try to be mindful of how I show up.

If I do have a photo that’s nearly identical to one already posted, I might:

Keep it for myself, or use it as a learning exercise.

Share it privately, or on a different platform where the context is different.

Look for a variation — a tighter crop, a different processing choice, a more personal take.

For me, this isn’t about rules or unwritten laws. It’s about respect — for the other photographer, for the audience, and for the photo itself. There's no harm in stepping back and letting someone else's image stand on its own.

That’s not to say others should do the same. But in my experience, being a little intentional in how we share makes the community stronger and more enjoyable for everyone.

— Larry