‘If I put something out there that is truly meaningful to me, that truly engages with me, I want to be understood.’

If you’ve ever shared a photograph and felt that nobody “got it,” you’re not alone. we’ve all been there. In this conversation of The Perceptive Photographer, Ken Carlson and I dig into Roland Barthes’ famous essay, The Death of the Author, and what it means for us as photographers today.

The essay, written in 1967, argues that once a work is released into the world, the creator’s intention no longer determines its meaning. The audience does. In Barthes’ words: “The birth of the reader must be at the cost of the death of the author.”

For photographers, this can be both frustrating and liberating. We pour ourselves into an image or series of images, only to have someone interpret it in ways we never expected (both good and bad). I can’t tell you the number of times I have had someone say to me, but that’s not what my work is about. What are they seeing. For me that is where the magic happens. Our images come alive in someone else’s imagination. They become a creative force all their own.

Barthes’ essay isn’t a commandment—it’s a reminder. Photography isn’t a monologue; it’s a conversation. Your job is to make the work, put it into the world, and stay open to the messy, beautiful ways people respond.

As usual Ken and I end up taking photographs, movies, titles and more. I hope you enjoy the conversation, and the next time someone sees something unexpected in your photo, resist the urge to correct them. Your image is doing what it’s supposed to do. It is connecting with people.

Want more conversations like this? Check out The Perceptive Photographer Podcast for new episodes every Monday and new conversations about once or twice a month on Thrusdays.