In episode 542, I explored a topic that I have discussed on more than one occasion. While it’s easy to skip over naming your work—maybe leaving images untitled or defaulting to file names. They’re a powerful way to deepen your understanding of your work and offer viewers a richer way into your images.
One hesitation I often hear is, “Won’t a title limit how others see my photo?” I get it. We want our images to speak freely. But a well-considered title doesn’t shut interpretation down—it opens it up. A title is like the name of a book or a painting—it gives you a way in without telling you exactly what to think. Think about two books I have on color: The Secret Lives of Color and Color and Meaning. Same general subject, but those titles immediately set a tone. Your titles can do that too. A good title invites curiosity, emotion, or interpretation without dictating terms. It’s a lens, not a lock.
What Titles Reveal About You
For photographers, titles aren’t just about the audience—they’re also a way to reflect back what matters to you. When you start titling your work, you might notice themes that keep showing up—solitude in your landscapes, strength in your portraits, memory in your still lifes. A simple name can uncover what you’re really drawn to. It helps clarify what the image means to you, and how you might want to group or present it. Consider a barn photograph. You could call it Red Barn, 1923, Pride of the Valley, or Last Light Before the Storm. Each one reveals a different facet of your experience and intention. Not every title has to be shared. Some might live only in your Lightroom catalog, others on a gallery wall. Maybe you title your images when they go into a portfolio, but not when you post them online. That’s totally fine. The point isn’t that every image needs a title—it’s that titling is another creative tool at your disposal. Use it how and when it supports your goals. You might even go back years later and find that a title you once loved no longer fits. That’s okay too—your relationship to the image can evolve, and your titles can evolve with it.
If titling feels awkward or forced, try treating it as a creative exercise. Write five to ten different titles for the same image. Let yourself get weird, poetic, literal, emotional, or even nonsensical. See how each one changes how you feel about the photo. This isn’t about finding “the one”—it’s about seeing the work through different lenses and tapping into new layers of meaning. Sometimes you’ll land on something that surprises you. Sometimes the title reveals what the image was really about all along. It’s a low-stakes, high-reward way to engage more deeply with your own work.
Different types of titles reveal different things. Descriptive titles like Sunset Over Lake Washington tell us what we’re seeing. Emotive titles like Longing for Home guide us toward a feeling. Narrative titles like The Day We Said Goodbye offer a moment or story. Humorous or abstract titles—Duck, Duck, Goose! or Penguin Power give us a smile. None are better or worse, but each offers a different entry point.
At the end of the day, titling your photographs is less about classification and more about connection—both with your images and your audience. It’s a way to slow down and reflect, to notice patterns, and to give form to meaning. Even if you never share the title, the process of creating one can give you clarity and insight. It can also make your work feel more complete, more intentional, more you. So the next time you finish editing a photo, pause and ask: “What would I call this?” You might be surprised at what bubbles to the surface.