Breaking the rules: how I found freedom in imperfection

40 Cameron road

The illusion of control

When I first arrived in Hong Kong with my camera, I was obsessed with getting things right, all with straight lines, perfect focus, symmetrical compositions, etc., but this city is unpredictable and has a way to test the patience even for the most peaceful guy: crowds hitting you, noises all around you, neon lights reflecting in puddles at odd angles…and somewhere in that beautiful mess slowly, I realized that chasing perfection is not always necessary, and that imperfection sometimes could be interesting too.

This realization began to challenge my photography attitude: I started to experiment embracing the accidental and unexpected and what I initially considered mistakes, suddenly became opportunities to express emotion, rhythm and spontaneity. Hong Kong, with all its chaos, taught me that life rarely follows the rules.

Learning from the accidental

One of the first times I experimented with imperfection was at a street corner, just one of the thousands of intersections scattered across Hong Kong, but even here, there was something that catches the eye: the yellow stripes painted across the asphalt…It’s definitely not an inspiring place, but I was there at sunset and I started playing with double exposure. Eventually, after risking a few times to be flattened by random drivers, I ended up with an image where the sunset light added a nostalgic glow that tied everything together.

The Yellow Crayon

The image I took was almost monochrome and in phase of editing I decided to try exaggerating even more this feeling and create a sharp contrast with the yellow stripes. I called the final image “The Yellow Crayon” and for a while, I even thought this idea could turn into a series, with one photo for each color, but – like many of the plans that sometimes run in my head – I never pursued it.

Another afternoon, I was walking along the seaside on a quiet pedestrian road beside a residential compound, that kind of complex that might seem interesting in another city, but in Hong Kong is just one of the countless copy-paste developments blending into the skyline. Then, suddenly, a little girl started running toward the end of the walkway. Instinctively, I raised my camera and captured her with a long exposure, zooming out as she moved away. The result was an image that I later titled “Childhood’s End”, paying also a small tribute to my beloved Marillion (one of my favorite bands). The blur of her motion against the dull, uniform background seemed to symbolize the passage from innocence to the monotony of adult life. That occasion reminded me that even the most anonymous corners of the city can sometimes offer you a photo worth keeping.

Even simple alleyways offered lessons, cracked tiles, uneven bricks, forced me to reconsider what “composition” meant, by letting the irregularities lead the eye rather than resisting them, I began to see a rhythm in the disorder and each “mistake” became part of the narrative.

Childhood's End

Freedom in imperfection

Over time, I started to see freedom in imperfection, allowing the unexpected into my frame, made photography less about control and more about dialogue between the city, the light and my own instincts: crooked perspectives, blurred edges, tilted lines, chaotic overlaps no longer frustrated me and maybe are exactly what that moment demands.

Sometimes, letting the environment hit you in the face (.. and in Hong Kong this might literally happen) is what makes a photo interesting. Breaking the rules didn’t just change my images, it changed my approach to the city and to photography.

And now I wonder, what imperfection in your world could reveal a story you’ve never noticed before?