Untitled c. 1971s

This photograph by William Eggleston captures a slice of American life with a casual kind of precision. The colour palette is muted, dominated by the dark browns and greys of the diner interior, but punctuated by the bright, almost glowing light from the window. This makes me think about how we perceive and process information through contrasts. Eggleston's use of colour is interesting here, the way he captures the subtle shifts in tone and texture. The walls, the table, the seats, it’s all a kind of murky darkness. The light is what really grabs you, creating these strong horizontal lines. And then there’s that round mirror on the wall, reflecting back a distorted version of the scene. It's all so carefully composed, yet it feels totally spontaneous. It reminds me a little of Edward Hopper, actually, in the way it captures a certain loneliness or alienation, that sense of being an observer in a world that’s both familiar and strange. With Eggleston, as with all great art, there’s no single way to read the work. It’s open, suggestive, inviting us to bring our own experiences to bear on what we see.