Texture has always been very important to me, and I like that this photograph–this scene, in fact–has texture in the visual, tactile, atmospheric, and emotional sense.

This is a photo of my window as seen in the late morning, on one of the rare occasions when I don’t have to get up before the sun does. I liked that this photo captured the light as I see it when I wake up on those wondrously lazy: warm, inviting, cheerful, bright, and undemanding. The lemon-yellow burst in the near-center becomes a soft butterscotch through my “curtain,” and the play of light on the window frame creates interesting shadows that resemble an arched window (bottom left) and what resembles a human figure (right). I also appreciate the wrinkles and folds in the fabric, which creates a thousand tiny shadows and imperfections… those two things, shadows and imperfections, are what I find give photographs nuance and visual interest. My “curtain,” a flat bedsheet wedged into hinges on the window frame, is a lovely reminder of the fact that this dorm room, my new home, is a work in progress and that I must continue to make it my own. Again in terms of subjects, I like that the grate of the fan recalls the texture of the radiator cover (right below the window) and that daylight peeks through the curtains to rest on my wall in a little halo on the left (over the fan) and in a line (top). I find that the subtle, almost hidden elements make this photograph interesting to look at.

Compositionally, this photo follows no rules I recognize except one (dynamic balance), and even that one it only loosely adheres to. The light/dark balance is intriguing, but interestingly this photograph has no diagonals, no golden ratio, and no rule of thirds, but it is the one I like best. I took many photographs over the course of the eleventh, and many of them respected compositional rules, but this was the one that felt most like a snapshot, like a true insight into my mind and life.