This photograph isn’t great. It’s one of those things where any other photographer will look at it and go “Meh. It’s teh blurriez.”
But I took this photo, drunk as a skunk in the desert in the Alabama Hills off the 395 while watching an epic E P I C epic lightning storm 100 miles away on the Panamint Range. I didn’t have the tripod head connector, so I used my cooler, which I pulled out of the Prius using all the wrong muscles and dragged it, in the dark, up off the shoulder of a dirt road, all the while yelling something about how awesome it was. It more than likely sounded like a monster slurring sounds.
I somehow managed to grab a few snaps, while being yelled at by Michele that I was a drunk asshole.
I didn’t get any proper photos that night, despite my best inebriated efforts. That said, even though the shot is blurry, the accompanying memory makes me happy. Therefore, human brain says “It is a good photo.”
Subjectivity in art. It’s a thing.