In photography, composition describes the placement of relative objects and elements in a work of art or photograph. Composition is said by critics and teachers to be a key aspect of good art and good photography.

In our time, smartphones have democratized photography, art photographs are declining in importance, though still valued by many. But the truth is everyone is a photographer, but not everyone can take a great photograph. Some of that is personal, individual – you either compose in your head or you don’t. I am not sure it can be taught.

When I first started taking photographs about a decade ago, I had no sense of being any good at it. I took photos of dead leaves and made them brown in Iphoto. When I look at them now, I wince, yet at the time, they helped open my eyes to my own sense of life, and to composition, both in pictures and mind.

I still don’t have any sense of my own abilities, I just photos of images that touch me.

A well known Chicago photographer saw my photos – I think someone in his family read one of my books and read my new blog – he began e-mailing me about my pictures.

He was dying of cancer – he was gone six months later – and the first thing he told me what thatI had a gift for composition. He critiqued my photos every day until he died, it was invaluable to me.

Keep at it, he said, you will begin a good photographer, I love the way you see the world.

Of course, I had no idea what composition really was. Maria would call me up every night at 6:30 and talk to me about my photos, she also said I had a natural eye for composition. I didn’t know what it was then, and I’m only beginning to get a sense of what it is now for me.

A friend, also a photographer, lectured me about “thirds.” Every photograph, he said, had to in thirds.  He had a lot of rules like that, do’s and dont’s.

I thought taking a photo that way was a ridiculous idea then and now – I never think of the rules when I take a picture, I just listen to my heart. If it touches me, I hit the shutter.

These rules reminded of my dull English teachers who thought good grammar was good writing.

Photography has changed me in many ways. I see the world now, the artist in me finally had a place to go.

A composition, I have discovered (this is me, not the gurus) has just enough detail, but not too much. In my mind, my photos are emotional. I feel them rather than just see them.

I only take photos that I think of as being “soft,” not hard. The brown leaves were who I was at the time, cracking up and miserable. They were hard photos. The photo I took of Fanny above (Biddie behind her) is the kind of picture i take now.

For one thing, it is in balance.

There is the shadow, the donkey, the sheep, all symmetrical and in perspective. The shadow is big, Fanny is small, Biddie is smaller. I like photos that have their own frame within. The apple tree, a centerpiece of so many of my photos, frames the photo.

I see that instinctively now, I don’t have to think about it. But like many pictures, I didn’t grasp the composition of this one until I saw it on the computer screen.

The hay feeder offers a touch of color in the back.

Fanny and Birdie suggest peace, the end of summer, the warmth of spring, the beautiful shadows of a tree. All of this leads the eye right up the photo, from the bottom up.

This image is comforting to me, I think that’s what I mean by soft.

The picture draws my eye  back in an almost straight line. I just moved closer to fill the frame and eliminate distractions.

My meditation teacher this morning talked about meditating on kindness. On being kind to myself, on thinking softly and gently. In meditation, I am learning to steer away from judgment and grievance. To be gentle with myself, to be kind to me. In that way, I might become kinder to others.

“Rather than giving yourself a hard time,” he said as the meditation began (it’s an app), “how would you respond if it was a friend who felt that way?”

I would say he or she should be gentle with himself.

I see every photo as a story, and all of the elements need to be there for the story to tell itself. Sometimes it can be a dog looking out on a field,  sometimes, as in this photo, an image that is perfectly balanced.

I see donkeys lying down all the time. But this image was different. It told a story. Composition in photography means capturing enough elements and color and balance to tell the story I want to tell.

Taking good photos of dogs is difficult, they taught me much about light and angle and lens speed.

Every photo is an idea to me, and the composition should meet the goal of expressing the idea. So light matters, and angle and how much the image does or doesn’t fill the frame.

Today, in meditation, it occurred to me that the composition of my photos reflects and mirrors the composition of my mind. As I have changed and evolved, for better or worse, so have my photos.  I am softer, they are gentler.

This photo seemed ordinary at a glance, but when I looked more closely – actually it was an  instinct, a reflex – I had to jump out of the car to take the photo. I think it is a very good photo, mostly because of the way it is naturally composed.

With portraits, I have only one rule. I have to like the subject, and the portrait is good. I can’t take a portrait of people I don’t like, or who don’t like me.

My photographs are a kind of meditation, in them, I see myself, where I have been, where I am, where I am going. There is something to composition after all.