lifedried

Patrick Summerfield said that black and white photography is like a perfect lie. Now, what can I say, better a lie than a common-colored-spoiled image.

shadows on canvas

"It takes a lot of imagination to be a good photographer.You need less imagination to be a painter, because you can invent things. But in photography everything is so ordinary; it takes a lot of looking before you learn to see the extraordinary."
David Bailey [english photographer. 1938 - present]

the most sought after solitude

"I owe my solitude to other people. "
Alan Watts [british philosopher and writer. 1915 - 1973]

sol-i-tude. spelled pronunciation sol-i-tood, -tyood
noun
• the state of being or living alone; seclusion.
• remoteness from habitations, as of a place; absence of human activity.
• a lonely, unfrequented place.

origin
Middle English, from Old French, from Latin sōlitūdō, from sōlus, alone; see s(w)e- in Indo-European roots.

synonyms:
1. retirement, privacy. solitude, isolation refer to a state of being or living alone. solitude emphasizes the quality of being or feeling lonely and deserted, while isolation may mean merely a detachment and separation from others. loneliness. 3. desert, wilderness.

please note that this is image is selected from the Solo Photo Book Month. you can find, watch and comment my SoFoBoMo project at http://www.sofobomo.org/2009/books/skinnydipping/AfterSun/

long gone summer days

“To me, photography is an art of observation. It's about finding something interesting in an ordinary place... I've found it has little to do with the things you see and everything to do with the way you see them.”
Elliott Erwitt [advertising and journalistic photographer. born in 1928 in paris]

please note that this is image is selected from the Solo Photo Book Month. you can find, watch and comment my SoFoBoMo project at http://www.sofobomo.org/2009/books/skinnydipping/AfterSun/

things that define us

this is the second image that I selected from the Solo Photo Book Month, that is still available for everyone to see and comment at http://www.sofobomo.org/2009/books/skinnydipping/AfterSun/

still, this time, I've chosen another processing, because my soul is duo toned this morning. beside that, my thought for this moment sounds like this..

“We must not allow other people's limited perceptions to define us”
Virginia Satir [american psychologist. 1916-1988]

raw physiognomy

as I said the last time, I intend to post some of my favorites photos from the Solo Photo Book Month, that is still available for everyone to see and comment at http://www.sofobomo.org/2009/books/skinnydipping/AfterSun/
this is the first one of the selected photos..

"A portrait is not a likeness. The moment an emotion or fact is transformed into a photograph it is no longer a fact but an opinion. There is no such thing as inaccuracy in a photograph. All photographs are accurate. None of them is the truth."
Richard Avedon [american photographer. 1923 - 2004]

selling desires

Nikon D80 | 1/200 seconds | f 5.3 | ISO 200 | 60 mm

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

What I found at Street Delivery? People that want to escape. From what or where? Nothing or anything or everything… anywhere. Or maybe just from the concrete walls. It’s one of my favorites shots and it made me remember a text a friend of mine wrote. Maybe you won’t find the connections in the first place, but… sleep on it.

Here it goes…

“Why should we lay on the grass?

I forgot. I’m forgetting. I’m fighting not to forget… the smell of grass. No, I meant the smells of grass, for there are different kinds. The smell of thirsty grass, thirsty and blunted by the cruel sun and by the rockers spiked boots. A pungent, ancient like the furniture in grandma’s house, smell.

The smell of fresh rained on grass or, even more intense, of dew. Delight, slumber, flight, swimming, a woman’s body or anything else that a relaxed mind can draw up. Powerful like a “Paco Rabane” on a seeking male body. Protective, like a wreath of chestnut tree in plain summer or like grandma’s rough hand caressing the child’s skin. Tasty like a peach… Bashful like a schoolgirl… Sweet just like the breast of your first love and bitter like a fight with your mother.

The smell of wet grass opens the gates of imagination, of freedom… Freedom has such a strong resonance… Imagination has no boundaries. Sensations, tastes, colors, memories, wrap around a tiny, stray, soul, with once precise direction, and though, without no goal.

Did I answer the question? Why should we lay on the grass? Aren’t you convinced yet? Go to the first park and make a first step. Doesn’t work? Then run for Sighisoara or London. It’s worth-while!”

p.s. thank you Bogdan for your lovely personal thought that you found proper to share with your friend.

choosing the right mug for a good friend

Nikon D80 | 1/200 seconds | f 5.6 | ISO 320 | 80 mm
-------------------------------------------------------------------------

today i "stumbled", at someone's recommendation, into a text called "life's little instructions". the author wasn't mentioned, but i enjoy it, although, i must confess, i do just about 40% of the things. i decided to sent it further to others, after adding to the list one of my own: "choosing the right mug for a good friend"

so there it goes..

"life's little instructions"
* sing in the shower
* treat everyone you meet like you want to be treated
* watch a sunrise at least once a year
* leave the toilet seat in the down position
* never refuse homemade brownies
* strive for excellence, not perfection
* plant a tree on your birthday
* learn three clean jokes
* return borrowed vehicles with the gas tank full
* compliment three people every day
* never waste an opportunity to tell someone you love them
* leave everything a little better than you found it
* keep it simple
* think big thoughts but relish small pleasures
* become the most positive and enthusiastic person you know
* floss your teeth
* ask for a raise when you feel you’ve earned it
* be forgiving of yourself and others* say “thank you” a lot
* say please a lot
* avoid negative people
* buy whatever kids are selling on card tables in their front yards
* wear polished shoes
* remember other people’s birthday
* commit yourself to constant improvement
* carry jumper cables in your trunk
* have a firm handshake
* send lots of Valentine cards. Sign them “someone who thinks you’re terrific”
* look people in the eye
* be the first to say “hello”
* return all the things you barrow
* make new friends and cherish the old ones
* keep secrets
* sing in a choir
* plant flowers every spring
* always accept an outstretched hand
* stop blaming others
* take responsibility for every area of your life
* wave at kids on the buses
* be there when people need you
* don’t expect life to be fair
* never underestimate the power of love
* drink champagne for no reason at all
* don’t be afraid to say, “I made a mistake”
* don’t be afraid to say “I don’t know”
* compliment even small improvements
* keep your promises no matter what
* marry only for love
* rekindle old friendships
* count your blessings
* call your mother

between shadows

Nikon D80 | 1/320 seconds | f 5.6 | ISO 160 | 90 mm
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Life is like a good black and white photograph, there's black, there's white, and lots of shades in between."
Karl Heiner [Photographer]

under the magic wand of time

Nikon D80 | 1/1000 seconds | f 5.6 | ISO 160 | 135 mm [left side]
Nikon D80 | 1/320 seconds | f 5.0 | ISO 160 | 50 mm [right side]
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“It is one thing to photograph people. It is another to make others care about them by revealing the core of their humanness.”
Paul Strand quotes [American Photographer, 1890-1976]

wanted: people with personality

Nikon D80 | 1/30 seconds | f 5.3 | ISO 160 | 66 mm
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I will never understand why there are people that don't understand diversity, that don't love ethnicity, or who don't understand their age or their limits. I guess I don't understand peoples that think in frames all the time, and, even more, I don't understand people that don't understand that the only one who can judge me is God.

"For everything there is a season,
And a time for every matter under heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die;
A time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal;
A time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
A time to embrace, And a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to seek, and a time to lose;
A time to keep, and a time to throw away;
A time to tear, and a time to sew;
A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate,
A time for war, and a time for peace."

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

p.s. the people that don't understand me are not welcomed here.

light and future in their hands

Nikon D80 | 1/400 seconds | f 5.6 | ISO 320 | 105 mm
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Childhood - The 21st Century

How advanced they are, these children of the future,
Like small adults, within their tiny frames,
They grow up in a fast 'speed driven' culture,
Where 'learning pressures' change their kind of games,
Where is their childhood, in all this hurly burly,
Where is their pure untainted view of things,
Why do they have to grow so old, so early,
And lose the joy that only childhood brings.

Our childhood was filled with thoughts of joy and gladness,
We lived our lives, oblivious to the world
And all the hardships, wars, the grief and sadness,
We stood, waiting for our lives to be unfurled.
We had time to grow, and gain an understanding,
Of each new phase, each change along the way,
As we grew slowly, our senses all expanding,
So with clarity, we slowly changed our play.

We had a framework on which to build and flourish,
Slow and steady, this was no rushed affair,
Taking each step, then step by step to nourish,
Our childhood, so finally adulthood we would share.
What will become, of these 'New Century' learners,
I doubt if they, a dreamy childhood see,
Will they then tell to all those bright discerners
Of their own, how they remembered their childhood to be.

a poetry by Ernestine Northover*

source http://www.poemhunter.com

cheatchatting thru life

Nikon D80 | 1/15 seconds | f 5.6 | ISO 160 | 200 mm
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I will always remember my first nikon week. it was also the first time when I was in the magic land of Sighisoara.. as you can see I was far for ready to use the camera, but I really like how it turned out this picture. I made me realized, again, the blessed period of childhood, without any wories..

"The child laughs: my wisdom and love is the game. The young man sings: my game and wisdom is the love. The old man says nothing: my love and game is the wisdom".
Lucian Blaga [a Romanian poet, playwright and philosopher. 1895 - 1961]
Lucian Blaga is the same who said “God, I have only one prayer: never let me be satisfied with myself!”

smile baby, smile!

Nikon D80 | 1/100 seconds | f 9.0 | ISO 160 | 50 mm
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

no words for today

Nikon D80 | 1/160 seconds | f 5.6 | ISO 160 | 75 mm
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

worlds apart

Nikon D80 | 1/250 seconds | f 5.0 | ISO 160 | 50 mm
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I like people that are open to pose for me. Me, a complete stranger. I’m not so willing to do so in return, but this is another story. Resuming… I remember the character in this shoot very well. He was standing on the gravel in the old tower square in Sighisoara. Where else if not in Sighisoara, the place most surprising in all Romania, could you find such interesting face? I’ve noticed him, the pipe and… the neatly interior of his wide-opened backpack. He was a photographer. I smiled and he smiled right back at me and what I recall most of that moment is that, even if we didn’t have a real conversation, we understood each other perfectly because we were talking the… nikon language. Worlds apart, just a detail, same passion. Isn’t it strange how just a few seconds can create such great memories?

carnival of joy

As I was wondering around the spider web streets of Sighisoara, one of the most revealing places of Romania, a loud drone of happiness bit my inner sorrow.. down the hill, with and enormous energy, were coming three little creatures of joy with yet undefined faces.. they seemed to be playing a strange game, with unwritten rules and bizarre hand sings, approaching faster that I was thinking this thoughts..
..and then.. there she was, like a rainbow in an almost sunny day..
hope that brings you the same feeling that she brought to me..

p.s. … and now, the funny side of the story.. while I was imagining the perfect shot, in slow motion, I almost lost the real one.. in that moment of confusion I said to my self that I have better chances to freeze the frameworks of the moment if I kindly came forward and speak to her. And so I asked her, in a very polite English, to pose for me.. Only God knows what was I thinking when I did that, but then it seemed to be the only way I had to stop her even just for 1/4000 second…
I was honestly frightened to lose that moment.. and then, like a divine intervention, she turned to her friends and, with a very puzzled look, asked them in the most pure Romanian language, my mother language, this: ce-o zis asta?, that stands for “what is she saying?”, in a free translation, translation that doesn’t even came close to capture the subtle irony of her genuine innocence.
Conclusion? I never got my perfect shot, this is the closest one and, as a matter of fact, the single shot taken before she fade away again in that blessed period of life called childhood

just a worries free day

“The things which the child loves remain in the domain of the heart until old age. The most beautiful thing in life is that our souls remaining over the places where we once enjoyed ourselves” - Kahlil Gibran [Lebanese born American philosophical Essayist, Novelist and Poet. 1883-1931]