I was fortunate to be standing on the bank of the Mekong River just as this woman was bringing her boat home. I immediately saw the rhythms present in the scene – her red jacket echoed by the boat’s red trim, the curving boards alongside the ship repeated by the reflection in the water, the upright stance of the woman reinforced by the upright line on the bow of the ship. I also noted the massive negative spaces created by the shadowed areas and the sky reflected in the water. To make them all work, I took a gamble and framed the woman well up into the far left hand corner, significantly above the magical “sweet spot” dictated by the so-called “rule of thirds,” which would be down a bit and somewhat to the right of where she is now. But rules are made to be broken. I compose my pictures not for aesthetic effect, but for meaning. I wanted to detach her from everything else, yet still make her responsible for bringing the ship safely in to the dock. It is the incongruity of her precarious perch in the distant corner that energizes the image for me. She seems to be navigating the ship by remote control. The conical hat is just as important – it is the brightest spot in the frame, it stands out against the black shadows in the negative space, and I place it so close to the edge of the image that it generates considerable tension. All of which proves my point: there are no rules for photographic composition and we don’t put together our pictures primarily to please the eye or the senses. Rather, we compose our pictures to best tell the story we are trying to tell.