Shadow

Reaching for the light.

There is a certain sense of raw desperation in this photo. The hand reaches for the light, or maybe the tiny opening in the window. In spite of it being take on a bright sunny day, it has dark overtones, reminding me that shadows cannot exist without light. I love windows, because they are unabashed and honest perspectives. They frame without judging and allow real light into otherwise dark spaces; a ray of light is always a symbol of hope.

4:43

As-Salamu Alaykum - Its Time

I like the blue hue of this photo. For some strange reason, I always find blue calming. Perhaps its the blue calm of the ocean or maybe its because of the famous blue helmets policing peace that I see on the telly all the time, or maybe because of what Felix Gonzalez Torres said about blue "For me, if a beautiful memory would have a colour, that colour would be light blue". Peace be upon you, I have always found this greeting very soothing and often said it with great sincerity when I traveled in the middle east. There is a certain "blue" quality to it. Peace is truly the best gift that you can bestow on a friend; Peace of mind and peace at heart. Modern/Western society seems to have forgotten the importance of wishing well upon the people we meet. "Hi" followed by a "How are you" just doesn't really quite cut it for me, compared to a wish of peace. It is important for humanity to have peace, especially peace within, for it is the turmoils within each and every one of us that collectively results in the destruction that we witness in the world today. Just like the headlines in today's papers that screamed out "Istanbul hit by bombs", blast were the deadliest in Turkey since 2003. Anybody who has been to Turkey will know how friendly and warm a people they are, totally undeserving of this monstrous attack.

"It claimed 17 lives, including that of a 12-year old girl who was hit in the heart by a piece of shrapnel as she stood watching from her fourth storey balcony..."

A little girl, in the heart. I think its time for peace.

Rainbow

哪里有彩虹告诉我

When I was young, I used to love those little round biscuits topped with stars of sugar, the colours of the rainbow. I loved rainbows. Much later, I learnt that there was a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I have been journeying ever since to reach it.

Pair

Fork & Knife

Its not so much about being similar but, rather, about opposites working in harmony. One complementing the other, making up for each other's shortcomings. We all know that a fork is not a knife. We accept its characteristics right from the start. Acceptance. There is strength in unity, in being One but not the same.

Voyeur

Veiled Smile.

I truly love the 50mm lens. No wonder HCB worked so much with the 50mm. To borrow a Leica slogan, it really accurately frames "my point of view". I am glad and honoured to have been a spectator of this very special moment. Many thanks Jon & Cheryl for allowing me to be part of it. Congratulations!

Myopia

They paved paradise and put up a parking lot

Read in the papers this morning that "Arctic oil could meet demand for 3 years". I am shocked that we are considering plundering the earth's last pristine frontier for only 3 more years of oil. This is truly carbon junkie speak. Whatever happened to man's ability to innovate? The cure to our addiction lies in Alternatives, the key to Alternatives is Standardization. Perhaps this is why so many believed that the world would end in 2000, or in this generation. We have lost the ability to see beyond; to imagine.

Wait

Late every night, the colours fade from the sky
and the music is gone from the moon.
Standing in line, for what used to be mine;
what good is the rhyme with no tune.

Gold

We walked in fields of gold,
and like the barley, whither.
Gold in the air of summer,
feel the air turn cold.

Reflection

Road-tripping, Looking back Lyon.

I love long road trips.
They remind you that its the journey
and not the destination that matters.
The End is overrated.

Throne

Imagine.

Like a twisted Hammershoi interior, filtered light illuminates. I've often wondered what lay beyond Hammershoi's canvas. Why his subjects avoid the artist as they avoid the light. Perhaps avoidance results in the calm that permeates through his paintings. Serenity. But is there brilliance and beauty outside the narrowly framed scene? Chaos. A canvas is but a framed perspective. It is up to us to look beyond or avoid.
The light in Denmark, especially in Skagen, is magical.
I've seen so much, but understand so little.

Sufi

Closer,

Ghazal
Five couplets at the minimum
but no more than twelve.
The first couplet establishes
a rhyme followed by a refrain,
a scheme repeated
by the second line
of each succeeding couplet.
Each couplet stands on its own
but must also be part of the whole.
At the end, the poet often invokes himself.

Shadows

Shadows cast by the street light
under the stars,
the head is tilted back,
the long shadow of the legs
presumes a world taken for granted
on which the cricket trills

~Shadows, William Carlos William

External

Sit, Stone

"I am not sure any of us knows just how far we have removed ourselves not only from nature but from the natural conditions of life that have prevailed for centuries and have forced men to the extreme limits of their physical capacity in order simply to feed, clothe and otherwise provide for their families, sending them every night to a sweet, exhausted, restorative unstirred, deserved sleep such as we will never know again... Manual labor is the study of the external world. I believe that to be true. Now the question that you're all probably asking yourselves is, what is he doing then, Tom Mota? Why is Tom wasting his days in a carpeted office trying to hide the coffee stain on his khakis? How is he any better than Pilot Bob? Unfortunately, I don't think I am any better. I'm not studying the external world. What I'm doing is trying to generate a buck for a client so as to generate a quarter for us so that I can have a nickel for me and have a penny left over after Barbara gets what the court demands. For that reason I love my job and never want to lose it, so I hope no one reading this finds me smug or ungrateful. I'm only trying to suggest that as we found ourselves in this particularly unfortunate, misconstrued, ungodly juncture of civilization, let's not lose sight of the nobler manifestations of man and of the greater half of his character, which consists not of taglines and bottom lines but of love, heroism, reciprocity, ecstasy, kindness and truth. What a bloated bunch of horseshit, you will say. And good for you. I welcome you to shoot me close in the head. Peace, Tom."

~ Joshua Ferris, Then we came to the end.

7:18

7:18 pm, tell me again, just who I am?

Big shoes to fill,
So feet won't soil.
Forget to feel,
Tomorrow's toil.
Till infinity, till I heal,
I till no more.

Flawed

scratch negative

They fuck you, your mom and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can
And don't have any kids yourself.

~Philip Larkin, This be the verse

If

If you can dream and not make dreams your master
If you can think and not make thoughts your aim
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run

Pinocchios

Once upon a time there was a piece of wood.
"Don't listen to those who promise you wealth overnight.
As a rule they are either swindlers or fools!"
So said a Talking Cricket.
Once upon a time there was a piece of wood
Who gave up his suit to return to his roots.

Dakota

Thinking back, thinking of you
Summertime, think it was June
Yeah think it was June
Laying back, head on the grass
Chewing gum, having some laughs
Yeah having some laughs

Ponte

The world is a bridge.
Pass over it but build no house upon it.

Reality

L'empire des Lumiere

What happens when it is night and day?
When the surreal seeps into the real?
Can you trust the north star
that does not shine?
Its brightness marred
by a lack of darkness.