When you first cradle a DSLR or mirrorless camera in your hands, it can feel like unlocking a gateway to a new world. The sleek body, the complex controls, the endless potential, it's thrilling and intimidating all at once. For many beginners, this initial excitement is quickly shadowed by overwhelm. So many buttons to press, concepts to understand, and rules to follow. Aperture, ISO, shutter speed these terms seem like a foreign language if you’re just stepping into the craft. But here’s something essential: the heart of learning photography doesn’t lie in memorizing camera functions or chasing technical perfection. It begins with something far more personal than your story.
Whether you’re brand new to photography, returning after a creative pause, or hoping to go beyond casual snapshots, the most transformative way to learn is to connect your creative journey to something that matters to you. Ask yourself what draws you in. Is it the tender chaos of family life, fleeting candid moments on city streets, the quiet drama of landscapes, or the poetic way light dances on everyday objects? Your motivation, the why behind your curiosity is your most valuable compass.
Defining this personal purpose anchors your learning. Instead of trying to master everything all at once, you begin to see each technique as a way to bring your vision to life. Every technical decision becomes an extension of your intention. If your reason is to capture the energy of your children growing up, for example, then learning how to freeze motion or shoot in natural light is no longer abstract, it becomes emotionally driven. If your goal is to reflect the stillness of a misty morning in the mountains, then learning about exposure and dynamic range takes on new meaning. When the skills you build are tied to your emotional core, they no longer feel like chores, they feel like stepping stones to self-expression.
Without this inner foundation, it’s easy to get swept up in a sea of YouTube tutorials, gear reviews, and social media trends. You may find yourself snapping pictures without ever really feeling connected to your subject or satisfied with your results. That’s why establishing your purpose isn’t optional. It’s the most important step you’ll ever take. With it, photography transforms from a technical skill into a soulful journey of seeing the worldand yourselfmore clearly.
The beauty of starting with purpose is that it gives meaning to every decision, every frame, every step forward. And when you understand the why behind your work, your photography becomes more than a hobby. It becomes an expression of who you are.
Reframing Mindset and Learning Style for Lasting Growth
Many new photographers feel defeated before they even begin. They fumble through their camera settings, struggle to understand exposure, or get stuck on what makes a compelling composition. And when frustration sets in, the default response is often self-doubt. Maybe I’m just not creative enough. Maybe I’m too old to learn this. Maybe I’m not tech-savvy. But none of those thoughts are true. They’re just signs that your learning process hasn’t yet aligned with how creativity actually thrives.
Traditional courses often present photography in fragments. You might spend weeks learning how to adjust ISO or how aperture changes depth of field without ever understanding how those elements relate to storytelling. This kind of compartmentalized learning can make you feel disconnected, bored, or lost. What’s missing is a holistic, intuitive approach that mirrors how creativity naturally unfolds.
Photography is not a mechanical checklist. It’s a living process, one that thrives when you learn through connection. When you begin to understand how light interacts with your subject, how a wide aperture can evoke intimacy, or how timing can create emotional impact, you start to build a deeper kind of knowledgeone that isn’t just about settings but about vision. The best learning happens not through isolated facts but through experiences that bind technical control to emotional awareness.
This shift in learning style also supports a healthier mindset. So many beginners think of creativity as something others are born with a mysterious gift. But creativity isn’t a rare superpower. It’s something we all had once, especially as children. Before self-judgment crept in, we created freely. We doodled, we played, we explored. Photography is an opportunity to return to that place to make mistakes, try things, explore without pressure, and express ourselves in ways that feel meaningful.
Even practical obstacles, like lack of time, are often tied to mindset. Many people say they’re too busy for photography, and on the surface, that might be true. But what if photography isn’t a distraction from life, but a way to be more present in it? When you see it as something that helps you slow down, notice details, and connect more deeply with your surroundings, it becomes easier to prioritize. You don’t need long hours or special locations. A walk to the grocery store, a quiet morning at home, or even five minutes of golden light at sunset can become an opportunity to practice and grow.
Comparison is another mindset trap that sabotages so many creative journeys. With endless streams of polished, curated work online, it’s easy to feel like your own images don’t measure up. But comparing your starting point to someone else’s ten-year journey only sets you up for disappointment. A much more nourishing approach is to document your own progress. Keep a visual journal of your images. Note what you were trying to achieve, what worked, what didn’t, and how you felt behind the lens. Over time, you’ll start to see patterns. You’ll see growth. You’ll see confidence building in your choices. This comparison with your past self is the only one that matters. It’s the one that proves you’re evolving.
Building Visual Intuition Through Holistic Practice
Once you’ve grounded your learning on purpose and reshaped your mindset, the final piece is to practice in a way that promotes deep, lasting understanding. The most effective photographers don’t just master settings they develop something more intuitive. They cultivate visual fluency. They can read light like a second language. They understand how composition creates mood. They know how to anticipate moments. And this kind of intuition doesn’t come from cramming tutorials. It comes from integrated practice.
Think of it like cooking. You don’t become a great chef by memorizing spice ratios in isolation. You learn by cooking whole meals by tasting, experimenting, failing, and adjusting. In the same way, you don’t truly learn photography by studying only exposure, or only focus, or only composition. You learn by taking real photos, in real situations, with your own emotions guiding the frame. You learn by noticing how the quality of morning light changes the feel of a scene, how a small shift in your position alters the entire composition, how timing transforms an ordinary moment into something poetic.
This integrated, context-driven learning creates a matrix of understanding. Each concept supports the others. You start to see how shutter speed affects not just motion blur but the feeling of energy. How aperture is not just about sharpness but about intimacy or distance. How ISO is not just a number but a way to keep the image clean or embrace texture. When you practice photography in this way, each decision becomes part of a larger conversation. Your camera becomes not just a tool but a collaborator.
Over time, this approach gives birth to visual intuition, the kind of knowing that doesn't require second-guessing or overthinking. You begin to trust your instincts. You feel more confident in unfamiliar lighting. You become quicker at adjusting settings. You see scenes unfold before they happen. This is the sweet spot where technical skill and creative vision meet. And when they do, your images don’t just look good, they feel alive.
Of course, your journey will have detours. You’ll have days where nothing clicks, photos that don’t work, and moments of doubt. But if your learning is rooted in purpose, supported by a kind mindset, and built through integrated practice, you’ll keep moving forward. You’ll begin to recognize that every shot, even the failed ones, teaches you something valuable.
And most importantly, you’ll begin to see that photography isn’t just about capturing the world, it's about learning how to see it, feel it, and connect with it more deeply. Your camera becomes a bridge, not just between subject and viewer, but between your inner world and the world around you.
That’s how you truly learn photography the right way. Not by chasing shortcuts or copying trends, but by creating a path that’s as unique and meaningful as the images you’re destined to make.
Embracing Photography as a Daily Practice
Learning photography doesn’t stop with understanding your camera or memorizing composition rules. The real growth begins when you turn those insights into action. One of the most powerful, yet often overlooked, truths about becoming a photographer is this: photography is a practice. Not a performance, not a one-time achievement, but a living, evolving habit that unfolds over time. Without consistent engagement, even the most comprehensive courses or inspiring tutorials won’t take root in your creative mind. Knowledge must be activated, and that happens through regular, hands-on experience.
When you start treating your camera like an instrument to be played daily rather than a tool for rare occasions, something remarkable happens. You sharpen your instincts. You become more attuned to nuances of light, shadow, and color. You begin to see not just what is in front of you, but what could be made from it. That process transforms your perspective. Every press of the shutter becomes part of a larger conversation between you and the world.
The good news is that you don’t need dramatic scenery or special events to develop this visual fluency. Your everyday surroundings are brimming with creative potential. The familiar settings of your routine, your neighborhood, a cluttered kitchen counter, reflections in a rain-streaked window can all become frames of beauty and meaning. It’s not about the grandeur of the subject but the grace with which you approach it.
What matters more than the length of time you spend shooting is how consistently you show up for the practice. Short, regular sessions often yield deeper progress than infrequent marathons. When you give yourself the freedom to explore daily, your confidence begins to bloom. You stop aiming for perfection and instead embrace the process. You learn to try new settings without fear. You start to anticipate moments rather than react to them. Eventually, the camera no longer feels like a foreign object. It becomes an extension of how you see.
And within that rhythm of repetition, you find something deeper than skill: you find your voice. The photos you take begin to reflect not only what you see but who you are. That kind of personal growth doesn’t come from waiting for inspiration. It comes from meeting yourself in practice, day after day.
Finding Creative Fuel Through Community
Photography is often seen as a solitary art, but it thrives in connection. No matter how self-motivated you are, your growth will accelerate when you step into a community of others who share your curiosity. Community introduces energy, perspective, and accountability. It transforms learning from an isolated effort into a collaborative journey.
Sharing your work is an act of courage. It opens the door to feedback, encouragement, and critiqueeach of which is vital in its own way. Feedback provides insight into how your work is received. Encouragement keeps your motivation alive. Constructive critique, though sometimes uncomfortable, invites you to see your blind spots. Together, these responses become a mirror, helping you refine not just your technique but your artistic judgment.
There’s no single path to finding the right creative circle. Some photographers find their tribe in local camera clubs, workshops, or photo walks. Others build meaningful connections online, through forums, digital classrooms, or social media groups centered around learning and support. Regardless of where you find it, the essential ingredient is shared intention. A true community doesn’t just admire beautiful images. It cultivates growth, celebrates effort, and encourages experimentation.
Being part of such a group expands your visual vocabulary. Seeing how others interpret similar scenes challenges you to rethink your own approach. You begin to understand that there isn’t one correct way to shoot a landscape, a portrait, or a street scene. Instead, there are endless interpretations, each shaped by the eye behind the lens. Exposure to this diversity helps you discover techniques and moods you might never have explored on your own.
Importantly, community also helps to soften the harsh voice of comparison. It’s easy to fall into the trap of measuring your progress against the polished portfolios of others. But when you’re in the company of learners, you realize that everyone stumbles. Everyone has early work they’re not proud of. Everyone hits creative walls. And knowing this turns the inner critic into a quieter whisper. Instead of striving for perfection, you begin to value persistence. Instead of fearing judgment, you learn to appreciate growth.
There’s also profound value in being seen. Too many emerging photographers keep their work hidden, unsure if it’s good enough. But the truth is, every image you take has value not just for its content, but for what it reveals about your perspective. Your way of seeing the world is inherently meaningful. Sharing your work gives it a place in the visual dialogue. And in doing so, you give others permission to do the same.
Deepening Your Voice Through Reflection and Intention
Consistency and connection are the backbone of learning photography, but there’s one more layer that amplifies both: reflection. Not all practice leads to progress. Without taking time to step back, examine your work, and ask deeper questions, it’s easy to reinforce habits that limit your potential. Reflection transforms passive repetition into conscious evolution. It’s where intention meets insight.
Reflecting doesn’t mean simply deciding whether or not you like a photo. It’s about understanding why a photo feels successful or not. What were you trying to say when you captured that frame? Which technical or creative choices supported that vision, and which ones diluted it? What would you change if you shot it again? These questions move your analysis from superficial to strategic, from subjective opinion to purposeful learning.
A powerful way to support this process is to create a visual journal or logbook. Print your images or keep them in a curated digital space. Next to each one, jot down notes not just about settings and gear, but about emotions, choices, challenges, and surprises. This small act of documentation strengthens your ability to articulate your growth. Over time, you’ll begin to notice patterns in your preferences, recurring themes in your subject matter, and a clearer understanding of your unique visual language.
Through reflection, you not only become a better technician but a more self-aware artist. You’ll see how your mood affects your framing, how your surroundings influence your subject choices, how certain types of light call to you again and again. This awareness leads to intention, and intention breathes depth into your photography. It’s no longer about capturing what’s in front of you it becomes about expressing what’s inside you.
What’s important to remember is that these three practices shooting regularly, participating in community, and reflecting intentionally are not separate phases. They are interwoven. The excitement of a creative group often reignites your desire to shoot. The consistency of practice gives you work to share and discuss. And your reflections enrich your next session with greater purpose. Together, they create a cycle of momentum that builds not only technical ability but creative fulfillment.
Rethinking How We Learn: Beyond Checklists and Isolated Lessons
As you move forward in your journey after grounding yourself in purpose, building a regular practice, and surrounding yourself with a like-minded community you may find yourself asking a pivotal question: How do I truly master photography, not just technically, but artistically and intuitively? The answer lies not in isolated lessons or memorized definitions, but in a holistic approach to learning where all elements are interconnected and grow together.
Most beginners start with the basics shutter speed, aperture, ISO. These are foundational, yes, but the common approach to learning them is often fragmented. One tutorial focuses solely on aperture. Another dives into ISO. Somewhere else, you find an explanation for shutter speed. Yet none of them show how these three variables dynamically interact. Weeks pass, and you're still unsure how to use them together while shooting in real-life scenarios. This is the trap of modular learning. It teaches in pieces, not in unison.
This disconnected style turns technical mastery into a checklist instead of a creative experience. You might hear about the exposure triangle, but rarely are you shown how it functions fluidly within the moment. Light, often reduced to a mere technicality, is actually an expressive tool. It's not just about brightness it's about tone, atmosphere, emotion. Similarly, aperture does more than control depth of field. It frames intimacy, isolates details, and helps direct emotional attention. When these lessons are taught apart from one another, learners end up with a toolbox full of parts and no blueprint for how to build anything meaningful with them.
The result is fragmented knowledge. You know definitions, but freeze when asked to apply them in a fast-moving, real-world context. You’ve taken courses in manual settings, attended a workshop on composition, and watched editing tutorials, but when it's time to photograph a fast-moving subject in unpredictable light, hesitation takes over. Why? Because nothing has been fully integrated. Each concept remains a standalone module rather than part of a greater whole.
Photography is not a list of sequential steps. It's a harmony of actions, thoughts, and feelings that must all align in an instant. Great images are born when technical skill, artistic instinct, emotional connection, and visual storytelling converge at once. And for that to happen, your learning must mirror that complexity. It must evolve in layers, flow across disciplines, and be deeply rooted in lived experience.
The Power of Integrated Learning: From Confusion to Clarity
True transformation comes when we stop dividing technique and creativity, and instead begin learning them in tandem. The holistic path to learning photography teaches you how to see and feel simultaneously. It trains you to understand that technical settings are not just mechanical requirements, they are tools to express meaning. You don’t just learn what a wide aperture is, you discover how it softens a scene, evokes dreaminess, or creates intimacy. You don’t just memorize the role of shutter speed, you feel how a fast one can freeze tension or a slower one can tell a story through motion blur.
With holistic learning, each skill is introduced within context. You study light, not as a scientific measure, but as a narrative force that changes how your image feels. You explore composition not just to organize space, but to guide emotion and rhythm. You edit not to fix mistakes, but to refine intention and deepen impact. Everything you learn feeds into the bigger picture of expressive photography.
And this is not just idealismit is supported by research. Educational psychology has shown that interleaved learning, where different concepts are practiced together and recalled through application, leads to better long-term retention and more flexible creativity. This kind of learning fosters intuition. Instead of memorizing which f-stop to use in bright daylight, you begin to sense what will feel right. Instead of rigidly applying rules, you begin responding to your subject and environment with confidence and awareness.
Take, for example, a portrait session during golden hour. Rather than mentally scrolling through rules about light, you simply notice how it wraps around your subject. You recognize the warm tones, the glow in the highlights, the soft falloff of shadows. You choose your settings not out of habit, but in service to what you see and feel. Your hands move quickly and instinctively. Your composition adjusts with subtlety. This is what it means to move from knowledge to embodiment.
This approach also changes how we define success. No longer are we chasing perfection in sharpness or eliminating every speck of noise. Instead, we ask deeper questions. Does this photograph communicate something meaningful? Does it evoke an emotional response? Where was I as an artisttechnically, emotionally, and visuallywhen I captured this image? These reflections guide our evolution more than praise or criticism ever could.
And something beautiful begins to happen: the fear of failure softens. When learning is holistic, mistakes are not setbacks. They are signals. They show us where to explore further, where we need more clarity, where our next layer of growth lies. You start to welcome experimentation. You allow imperfection to be part of your learning rhythm. This openness becomes essential to developing your creative voice.
Embodying Photography: Learning for the Real World
What often goes unrecognized in traditional teaching is how different real-world photography is from the classroom. Out in the field, whether you're capturing a wedding, a bustling market, a quiet forest path, or a city street at night you don’t have time to dissect each setting or theory. Everything must come together at the moment. Your ability to respond swiftly and creatively relies on how deeply you’ve integrated your learning.
The holistic approach prepares you for this. Because it mimics the way real photography worksfluid, layered, aliveit equips you to act with clarity when time is limited and stakes are high. You won’t be thinking about ISO as a concept. You’ll be adjusting it instinctively to match a scene’s mood. You won’t stop to recall composition rules. You’ll frame a shot based on feeling, because that feeling has been practiced over time, in context, with purpose.
And the best online photography courses now reflect this evolution. They don't isolate manual mode into a dry technical exercise. They place it within the story you are telling. They blend assignments that challenge both your eye and your intuition. They focus on critique, reflection, and emotional engagement, helping you grow not only in skill, but in vision. They understand that artistry cannot be forcedit must be nurtured through integrated, thoughtful learning.
When you commit to this kind of journey, you begin to feel different. The camera no longer feels like an obstacle. It becomes an extension of your mind and heart. You move with more certainty. You photograph with more purpose. You see not just with your eyes, but with your whole being. You’re not just capturing what’s there, you're expressing what it means.
And this is the real reward. Not just beautiful photos, but a deeper connection to your creative self. Not just mastery of tools, but a sense of artistic flow. With a holistic path, you stop chasing scattered knowledge and start embodying the craft. You make room for evolution, intuition, and voice.
The journey to photographic mastery is not about how many settings you can memorize or how many lenses you own. It is about how deeply you can connect the dots between vision and technique, between feeling and execution, between the moment and the image. When your learning reflects this unity, your photography becomes not just betterit becomes alive.
Embracing Growth Beyond Mastery: The Lifelong Path of the Photographer
Reaching the final stages of learning photography doesn’t come with a finish line or applause. There’s no grand milestone that signals you’ve arrived. Instead, what emerges is a quiet realization an awareness that learning never truly ends. The more you grow, the more you understand how much more there is to explore. At this point in your journey, you’ve discovered your creative why, established meaningful habits, found the value of community, and adopted an integrated way of learning. What remains is not a final step, but an ongoing devotion: to evolve continuously and keep your creative spirit alive.
True photographic mastery is not a technical destination. It is a way of seeing, a way of being. It thrives on openness and thrives even more when you refuse to close yourself off to wonder. Staying inspired means cultivating a posture of curiosity toward the world around you. This has little to do with chasing perfect images or comparing yourself to others. It’s about allowing life to surprise you, to stir something within you. The greatest photographers are not those who know everything but those who remain teachable, who greet each moment as an invitation to notice, to feel, and to express.
One of the most transformative practices you can adopt is to explore what truly captivates you behind the lens. This is not a simple question of style or genre. It's about resonance. What kinds of scenes make you pause? What stories are you drawn to? Is it the hush of twilight on an empty street? The fleeting emotion on a stranger’s face in a bustling market? The textured silence of an old building's wall? These moments are not random. They are mirrors reflecting your inner world, your sensitivities, your personal history. Tuning into them is how you begin to refine your voice.
To deepen your visual identity, immerse yourself in both your own work and the creative output of others. Return to your older images with new eyes. Don’t just evaluate them for exposure or sharpness feel them. Which ones continue to move you? What do they reveal about how you see the world? Sometimes the images that stay with you the longest are the ones that hold emotional weight, even if they defy conventional technique.
Simultaneously, enrich your visual vocabulary by engaging with a wide spectrum of art and photography. Browse through books. Explore galleries, both local and virtual. Study the classics and the emerging voices. Notice not only what draws your attention, but also what leaves you indifferent. This isn’t about imitation, it's about understanding your own taste. Recognizing what stirs you creatively allows you to sharpen your style and craft more intentional images that speak in your voice.
Engagement with art doesn’t have to remain passive. Respond to what you see. Write about it. Sketch scenes. Share thoughts with fellow creatives. Treat the process as a dialogue, not a monologue. Photography becomes more enriching when it’s a conversation between you and your subjects, between your experiences and your camera, between your inner life and the world unfolding in front of you.
Building Creative Momentum Through Play, Reflection, and Exploration
Inspiration rarely comes in bursts of lightning. More often, it arrives like a whispersoft, subtle, and easy to miss unless you’re paying attention. That’s why creating an intentional system for staying engaged is essential. Rather than waiting for motivation to strike, learn to cultivate it deliberately through small creative experiments.
Set yourself playful boundaries. Spend a week shooting only in black and white. Photograph the same object every day for a month. Challenge yourself to use only one focal length or to avoid using auto mode entirely. These self-imposed constraints are not limitations they are launchpads. They invite you to see differently, to discover something fresh in the familiar.
Equally important is documenting your journey as a creative. Keep a visual or written journal. Archive your shoots with notes about how you felt, what worked, and what didn’t. Reflecting on your evolution helps you connect the dots between your growth and your process. It provides perspective on those inevitable moments when your progress feels stagnant. Often, we’re too close to our own development to recognize how far we’ve come until we step back and trace the path.
Part of nurturing your inspiration means learning to navigate the quieter seasons of creativity without panic. There will be times when your images feel dull or forced, when nothing excites you, when you wonder if you’ve lost your spark. These phases are not setbacks. They are natural parts of the creative cycle. Just as nature moves through periods of stillness and bloom, so too will your photography.
In these dry spells, lean into the habits and rituals you’ve built. Continue showing up with your camera, even if the results don’t thrill you. Revisit your favorite work. Ask peers to offer fresh perspectives. Engage with the broader artistic world. Sometimes, seeing how others interpret a moment you thought was uninspired can breathe new life into your vision.
Give yourself permission to take breaks, but also permission to return, without shame or pressure. The creative flame always finds its way back when tended with patience rather than urgency. Often, it returns carrying new insight, shaped by time and lived experience.
Your evolving visual language is also influenced by your relationship with change. As your circumstances shift, so will your interests, your way of seeing, your choice of subjects. Instead of resisting that change, embrace it as proof of your growth. Photography becomes most rewarding when it reflects not just the outer world, but the inner seasons of your life.
Living the Photographer’s Life: Presence, Purpose, and Practice
To sustain a meaningful relationship with photography, you must begin to view it not merely as a pursuit or passion project, but as a lifestyle. Your camera becomes more than a device it becomes a companion in how you engage with the world. It’s there to witness not just events, but subtleties. Not just beauty, but feeling. It holds space for your questions, your fascinations, your evolving worldview.
And because it is a reflection of your life, your photography will change as you change. The faces you photograph today may not be the ones you gravitate toward tomorrow. The light that once captivated you may give way to the pull of texture, abstraction, or motion. These shifts are not departures from your style, but expansions of it. Growth does not erase what came before it builds on it.
Staying creatively nourished means returning often to the roots of your passion. What drew you to photography in the first place? Was it the sense of discovery? The emotional connection? The thrill of freezing a fleeting moment? Whatever that origin story is, keep it close. Revisit it during times of doubt. It will serve as your compass, guiding you back when you feel adrift.
Make space to celebrate your evolution. Look back at your earliest work with gratitude, not judgment. Those first attempts were stepping stones. They marked your entry into something vast and unknowable. Honor them as the necessary beginnings they were. Similarly, acknowledge the work you're creating nownot as a final destination, but as part of a greater unfolding.
Community remains a vital force in this journey. Continue to connect with others who share your passion. Share your struggles as openly as your successes. Be generous with your insights, and receptive to feedback. Sometimes, hearing how others interpret your work reveals aspects you hadn’t seen yourself. And just as often, lifting others up can renew your own sense of purpose.
Photography at its best is a deeply human endeavor. It connects us with others, with places, with our own internal landscapes. Every frame is a piece of a broader narrative that you’re crafting over time. Whether or not the world sees every image you make, each one matters. Each one teaches you something, opens something, grounds something.
So continue exploring. Continue questioning. Allow the world to astonish you. Stay curious. Stay brave. Let your practice grow more tender, more precise, more open with each passing year. Return often to the fundamentals with fresh eyes. Challenge yourself to evolve, not out of pressure, but out of love.
The journey of learning photography the right way is not about ticking boxes or chasing fame. It is about staying present to your experience, resilient in your process, and devoted to your vision. It’s about learning to see not just the world, but yourself with clarity and compassion. And it’s about telling the stories only you can tell, in a language only your eyes can speak.
Conclusion
Sustaining your journey in photography is about embracing continual growth and remaining deeply connected to your creative impulses. It’s a commitment to staying curious, patient, and open to change, knowing that every image you create reflects a moment of your evolving story. By nurturing your unique vision and engaging with the world around you, photography becomes more than a craft it becomes a meaningful way to experience life itself. Remember that the true mastery lies not in perfection but in presence, resilience, and the courage to keep exploring frame by frame, story by story, light by light.
