Masses of visitors approach Hanoi's Temple of Literature at Tet, the Chinese New Year. Although there are actually less than twenty five people in this picture, their placement in the frame implies that there are many more than that. They flow towards me, and then seem to continue beyond the confines of my image. This is largely because I have pushed both the bottom and right hand edges of my frame into the crowd to funnel it into the lower right corner. I leave no space around them except at left , which gives form to this long line of visitors.

I wanted more than just another picture of gilded church domes. I wanted a photograph rich in energy, particularly tension. I chose a camera position allowing me to shoot one dome emerging from another. I noticed a thin span of blue sky running between the big dome at center and the smaller steeple on the left. That small area creates tension, and I increased it by zooming in to apply pressure on all four sides of the picture at once. The gilded tiles glitter in the morning sun. The decorative sunburst coming out of the steeple is an appropriate touch for this sunsplashed picture. But the key element is the pressure I applied to those structures from the edges -- it makes the entire image crackle with energy and tension.

This photo of two sleeping Alaskan sled dog pups brings viewers a closeup view of an intimate moment. By choosing to frame it tightly, I kept everything else out of the shot and intensify its sense of intimacy. The closer I came to these pups, the more tightly they cuddled. How we use our frame can determine what our pictures will express.

McCarthy, Alaska, is an unconventional place. So I used unconventional framing to express the character of this rough and rugged place, truly America's last frontier. We are trained to frame things whole. But when appropriate, why not express an idea with fragmented framing? I feature the dawn light striking the Moose antlers that adorn the facade of McCarthy's general store, but deliberately fragment its sign. McCarthy itself is a fragment of the past -- one of Alaska's hidden gems. The infamous McCarthy Road ends at the Kennecott River. You have to hike the final mile into town, crossing two footbridges. The place once hosted carousing copper miners from nearby Kennecott. With the mines long closed, McCarthy manages to survive virtually unchanged, a charming ghost town that refuses to die.

I was originally attracted to this facade because of its brilliant colors and the effect of mid-day light. But I needed to somehow bring it to life if the picture was to communicate. I use a technique I call "stage-setting" to energize the shot. My camera's frame becomes a stage. The colorful store is the backdrop. All I needed were people to walk on stage to spontaneously create my play. I framed the building and waited for passing pedestrians to enter stage left. As they passed the first window, I made this picture -- a couple with perfectly matching strides marching past a row of shuttered windows. It is siesta time in Brazil, and everything shuts down. Our couple does not even notice the storefront -- they are intent on getting where they are going. They are oblivious to the brilliant colors, the long shadows, the white arches, and the lantern over their heads. What they take for granted, we see with fresh eyes. And all because of how I framed it.