The Picture I Almost Deleted

Some photographs are easy to like. They give me, almost immediately, what I was looking for.

Others do not.

At Beaubourg, I often look for the same things: lines, rhythm, structure, a moment when the place becomes clear.

This was one of those photographs. The facade, the stripes, the cyclist — everything fell into place. I liked it right away because it matched what I had in mind.

That same day, I came back with another image.

I liked it much less.

It felt too heavy. The big pipe took too much space. The graffiti bothered me. The frame felt rougher, less clear, less controlled.

I almost dismissed it.

Looking at it again later, I realised I was not judging it for what it was. I was judging it for not being the other kind of Beaubourg picture I usually want to make.

It is not clean. It is not elegant. But it has something the first image does not. More weight, more friction, more of the city as it actually feels.

The first photograph gave me what I was looking for. The second gave me something else.

I am learning not to reject those images too quickly.

I am also learning to keep all my raw files. Not because every frame is good, but because my way of seeing is not fixed.

What feels unresolved today may become meaningful later. And what once looked like the “right” edit may simply turn out to belong to a passing style.