No, You Don’t Need To Change Your Glasses

This was intentional. No missed autofocus, no technical glitch. I set the lens manually, focused nowhere, and waited for someone to walk into the blur. He did—carrying two bright yellow bags, dressed sharply but casually, perfectly unremarkable in the sharp world we expect from street photography.

The concept was simple: remove clarity and see what remains. What I found was structure. Colour. Gait. Gesture. A kind of abstraction that doesn’t erase the human, just detaches it from identification. No face. No detail. But still a presence.

Technically, the image defies critique by design. It isn’t sharp—at all. The highlights push into soft bloom, the street dissolves into haze, and the man becomes a silhouette made of style cues and posture. And yet, composition holds. He’s placed just off-centre, balanced by the receding street on the right and the row of potted plants on the left. The bags anchor him visually, as if the yellow is the only thing still certain in the frame.

This photo isn’t about the man. It’s about how we see—and how little we sometimes need to.