Accidental Precision

This wasn’t a technical success. It was a mistake. I had just raised the camera when I accidentally twisted the zoom ring mid-exposure. The result: a vortex of distortion with a woman at the centre, walking straight into it. And yet, it worked. Not in spite of the blur—but because of it.

The composition wasn’t planned, but it landed with an unexpected balance. The vanishing point draws backward, while the red coat blasts forward—like pigment dragged across the frame by a restless brush. The background—palm trees, streetlights, suburban geometry—melts into curves, turning realism into gesture.

This image violates every rule of clarity. It’s not sharp. Her face is unreadable, hands vague, buildings bent. But it holds an emotional sharpness I couldn’t have planned. A moment that looks remembered rather than recorded.

Exposure leaned long enough to exaggerate the movement, but not so long that it dissolved into smear. The colour palette is coherent—muted urban tones behind a dominant red. It reminds me of a misprinted frame in an old contact sheet. Wrong on paper. Right on instinct.

Sometimes, the camera makes the mark. Sometimes, it lets you draw one.