Birdwings ~Rumi

Birdwings

Your grief for what you’ve lost lifts a mirror

up to where you’re bravely working.

Expecting the worst, you look, and instead,
here's the joyful face you’ve been wanting to see.

Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes.
If it were always a fist or always stretched open,
you would be paralyzed.

Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expanding,
the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated
as birdwings.

~Jalaluddin Rumi

Excerpt from an Online Essay by Margaret Lottridge July 2004

Jalaluddin Rumi (Mawlana) 1207-1273

http://www.towerpoetry.ca/talk-lottridge.html

Jalaluddin Rumi, Persia’s best known lyrical poet and mystic, was born circa September 30, 1207 A.D. in Balkh, Central Asia, in what is now modern Afghanistan. Eighteen years later his family fled from invading Mongols, settling for a time in Laranda, Central Anatolia (present-day Karaman, Turkey) where Jalaluddin married Jawhar Khatun. His father, Baha’uddin Valad, the “Sultan of the Learned," moved the family to Konya (modern Turkey) in 1228 and founded a school of Islamic philosophy and theology.

Jalaluddin Rumi became a teacher and theologian who wrote scholarly articles. His traditional education was enhanced by the guidance of his father, a mystic and theologian, and through initiation experiences with his first teacher, Sufi master Sayyid Burhanuddin Muhaqqiq of Termez (a former student of Baha’uddin). Upon his father’s demise in January of 1231, Jalaluddin Rumi inherited the school and took over the responsibilities of guiding its students.

Rumi’s theoretical knowledge of divine principles was transformed by his relationship with Shamsuddin Muhammad of Tabriz. Shams, an enlightened being, a wandering dervish with an existential initiation and teaching style, was searching for someone to receive his knowledge – “someone whose soul was as wide and deep as his own.” Rumi, with his open, questioning mind, found in Shams the perfect mirror of his own soul – his Beloved – the Friend in much of his poetry.

Rumi and Shams met on a street in Konya in the fall of 1244.
Various accounts of their first encounter illustrate that the bond between Shams and Rumi was immediate and life-changing. In one account, Shams falls to the ground in a faint at Rumi’s replies to his introductory queries. Another account has Shams throwing Rumi’s treasured books into a fountain and telling him to begin to live what he’s been reading. He says the pages will be dry, as they were, if he lifts them out. Rumi leaves them in the water and they begin the first of many mystical retreats together. This is when Rumi’s scholarly writings took on the wings of poetry….

~Margaret Lottridge 2004

Heartbeat

 

©2013 Louise Fryer ~ Heartbeat

“Memory was that woman on the train. Insane in the way she sifted through dark things in a closet and emerged with the most unlikely ones - a fleeting look, a feeling. The smell of smoke. A windscreen wiper. A mother's marble eyes. Quite sane in the way she left huge tracts of darkness veiled. Unremembered.”
― Arundhati Roy, The God of Small Things

Karst Country ~ Infra-red Timelapse footage

Karst Country - infra-red timelapse from Glen Ryan on Vimeo.

This is the motion component of the recent Karst Country exhibition shown at the BAC in Canberra ACT. This infra-red time-lapse footage features the limestone landscapes near Wee Jasper NSW - which were the focus of the Karst Country exhibition's other prints and paintings - see http://www.karstcountry.com

This is only a very short section of a much larger project - in scope, duration and resolution (4K) - that I am currently working on with emerging cloud wrangler James van der Moezel.

The edit and music on this version were influenced by the unique constraints of public display in the specific gallery space - as well as the specific theme of the exhibition and it's other elements. The evolution of this project will see a final completed piece which will probably vary somewhat in its content and music. We are just starting on this really - and this is the start of the start.

Technical stuff : RED Scarlet / Epic cams... Nikon glass ... IR filters (R72) ... CS6.

Music by David Lawrence.

Still working on this ... more stuff soon :)

Tribal Woman

Rajasthan ©2012 George Koruth with kind permission

Closed Path

I thought that my voyage had come to its end
at the last limit of my power,---that the path before me was closed,
that provisions were exhausted
and the time come to take shelter in a silent obscurity.
But I find that thy will knows no end in me.
And when old words die out on the tongue,
new melodies break forth from the heart;
and where the old tracks are lost,
new country is revealed with its wonders.

Rabindranath Tagore

 

About the Photographer:

George Koruth

George Koruth is a photographer based in India. His collection captures India's rich culture and traditions. One of his specialties is street photography. Be it a smiling child or a wrinkled old woman, you will find a unique collection of faces here. He also loves to showcase social issues and hopes his photographs can give a voice to those people who don't have any say in this world. George has done work for international magazines and websites and has been featured in Indian magazines.

Birdwings

"At Highgate Cemetary” ©2012 Louise Fryer

Birdwings

Your grief for what you've lost lifts a mirror

up to where you're bravely working.

Expecting the worst, you look, and instead,

here's the joyful face you've been wanting to see.

Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes.

If it were always fist or always stretched open,

you would be paralyzed.

Your deepest presence is in every small

contracting and expanding.

the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated

as bird wings.

  ~Rumi

 

 ©2013 Louise Fryer

Photographer Profile: Louise Fryer

I first got into photography in May 2009, after spending some time experimenting in various different areas I found the subject that interested me the most was street photography. It is since January 2011 that I have been seriously concentrating on this area. I focus mainly on street portraiture, I try to capture sensitivity and feeling in my photographs. My inspiration comes from the people I see, my own empathy and feelings towards them. I feel a connection with some of the people I photograph due to my work and my life experiences.

“I see in black & white, colours just complicate things.” ~ Louise Fryer

Louise Hails from London and is a contributor to Shoot the Streets established to promote the art of street photography and increase the exposure of the many talented, and often unknown street photographers who live, breath and shoot the streets.

All photos are copyrighted and permission to use them was generously granted by Louise Fryer. All Rights Reserved.

Note: You may find Louise Fryer’s phenomenal Street Photography Here; Here and Shoot the Streets.

Wherever You Are is Called Here

In these woods ~ ©2012 William Mazdra ~with kind permission. All Rights Reserved.

Lost
Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you,
If you leave it you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.

~David Wagoner

~An old Native American elder story rendered into modern English

About the Photographer

William Mazdra

Before there was photography for me, there were words. I was once, and best described by a friend as "a man who loves words". and I do.. and because of that I believe my photography is at its core... emotional. If you feel something when you view a photograph of mine, I have great joy in that.

My work has allowed me to travel to some of the most beautiful places in the world, and for that, I am also very thankful.

~Words directly quoted from William Mazdra’s bio on G+

It Happens to those that Live Alone

©2012 Louise Fryer –Lillesden, Hawkhurst England

It happens to those
who live alone
That they feel sure
of visitors
when no-one else
is there.

©2012 Louise Fryer –Lillesden, Hawkhurst England

Until  the one day
And one particular
hour
Working in the
quiet garden

~

when the
green bud
at the center
of their slowly
opening silence
flowers
in belonging

©2012 Louise Fryer –Lillesden, Hawkhurst England

and they realize
at once,
that all along
they have been
an invitation
to everything
and every kind of trouble

~and that life
happens by
to those who
inhabit
silence
~

Like the bees
Visiting
The tall mallow
On their legs of gold,
Or the wasps
Going from door to door
In the tall forest
Of the daisies

©2012 Louise Fryer –Lillesden, Hawkhurst England

 

I have my freedom
Today
Because
Nothing really happened

~

And nobody came
To see me.
Only the slow
Growing of the garden
In the summer heat
And the silence of that
Unborn life
Making itself
Known at my desk

©2012 Louise Fryer –Lillesden, Hawkhurst England

My hands
Still
Dark with the
Crumbling soil
As I write
And watch

©2012 Louise Fryer –Lillesden, Hawkhurst England

The first lines
Of a new poem
Like  flowers
Of scarlet fire,
Coming to fullness in a new light.
~David Whyte

Note: My Gracious Thanks to Louise Fryer for these Extraordinary Images
Linked with Postcards from Paradise at recuerda mi corazon

The Last Supper

Portrait ©2012 Istvan Kerekes with kind permission

Here they are gathered, wondering and deranged,
Round Him, who wisely doth Himself inclose,
And who now takes Himself away, estranged,
From those who owned Him once, and past them
flows.

He feels the ancient loneliness to-day
That taught Him all His deepest acts of love;
Now in the olive groves He soon will rove,
And these who love Him all will flee away.
To the last supper table He hath led.

As birds are frightened from a garden-bed
By shots, so He their hands forth from the bread
Doth frighten by His word: to Him they flee;
Then flutter round the table in their fright
And seek a passage from the hall. But He
Is everywhere, like dusk at fall of night.

                     ~Rainer Maria Rilke

About the Photographer

Istvan Kerekes

I have been a photographer since 2007. My favourite subject is The Man. I would like to show the souls behind the faces. Everyone has feelings, everybody loves and breathes. My subjects are usually ordinary people. My main aim is to show their personalities through my images. One of William Albert Allard’s thoughts on photos and photography is just like mine, I truly believe in it: “The good portrait is about the eye, the look, since the human soul is reflected in it the most purely.”When taking photos it is my heart that leads me. After I have tuned to the subject I act instinctively.

~Istvan Kerekes

Istvan’s website: http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/

*Copyrighted images are posted with kind permission of the photographer.

Linked to Postcards from Paradise at Recuerda mi Corazon

Has Anyone Seen the Boy?

Best Friends ©2012 Istvan Kerekes

Have you seen the boy?
"I had been looking for him for years...  I
remember him, full of love, generous heart, a
fiery passion." 
Some boys have a story to tell:
They get lost to us....

Has anyone seen the boy
who used to come here?
Round-faced trouble-maker,
quick to find a joke,
slow to be serious, red shirt,
perfect coordination, sly,
strong muscled,
with things always in his pocket:
reed flute, worn pick,
polished and ready for his Talent--
you know that one.
Have you heard stories about him?
Pharaoh and the whole Egyptian world
collapsed for such a Joseph.
I'd gladly spend years getting word
of him, even third or fourth hand.

There is a wonderful, magical energy in a
boy.  And the tragedy is that it can be so
easily lost.  It is a peculiar wildness of
heart. 
Have you ever met that wild heart?
He is so longed for and dearly missed.  Oh,
how we miss our boys.

~(Blue portion is from Rumi’s (Red Shirt))

Preface and Closing in gold taken from Here

Story of Red Shirt may be found here .

linked to Postcards from Paradise at Rebecca’s for Memorial Day

About the Photographer 

Istvan Kerekes

I have been a photographer since 2007. My favourite subject is The Man. I would like to show the souls behind the faces. Everyone has feelings, everybody loves and breathes. My subjects are usually ordinary people. My main aim is to show their personalities through my images. One of William Albert Allard’s thoughts on photos and photography is just like mine, I truly believe in it: “The good portrait is about the eye, the look, since the human soul is reflected in it the most purely.”When taking photos it is my heart that leads me. After I have tuned to the subject I act instinctively.
~Istvan Kerekes
Istvan’s website: http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/
Best Friends can be found on 1x.com
*Copyrighted images are posted with kind permission of the photographer.

Crow Moon (Video)

A flock of roosting crows, black as night themselves, are threatened by the advancing shadows at dusk. They need light for protection so with the help of the Raven Chief they take a piece of the sun and use it to save themselves from the darkness.

I made this short film in 2006 with BBC Scotland and National Lottery funding. The film took 8 months to create and was all hand drawn and painted onto cell and then filmed using a multi-plane and paint on glass. It has been screened at over 25 festivals worldwide so far and is still being requested now.

Crow Haiku

They end their flight

 one by one--

crows at dusk

~Buson


Linked to Recuerda mi Corazon

Semejanzas Paradojas y descontextos (video)

Excerpts: Beyond the City

Music is by James Newton Howard from the film "The Happening"

The One who is Rightfully Yours

 

Convent Garden – 2012 © Louise Fryer

The True Love

There's a faith in loving fiercely the one who is rightfully yours
especially if you have waited years and especially if part of you never
believed you could deserve this loved and beckoning hand held
out to you this way.

Smile my heart~Smile © Louise Fryer

I am thinking of faith now and the testaments of loneliness
and what we feel we are worthy of in this world.
Years ago in the Hebrides I remember an old man
who would walk every morning on the gray stones
to the shore of baying seals, who would press his
hat to his chest in the blustering salt wind and say his
prayer to the turbulent Jesus hidden in the waters.

2012©Louise Fryer

And I think of the story of the storm and the people
waking and seeing the distant, yet familiar figure,
far across the water calling to them.
And how we are all preparing for that abrupt waking
and that calling and that moment when we have to say yes!
Except it will not come so grandly, so biblically,
but more subtly, and intimately in the face
of the one you know you have to love.
So that when we finally step out of the boat
toward them we find, everything holds us,
and everything confirms our courage.

Splash © 2012 Louise Fryer

And if you wanted to drown, you could,
But you don't, because finally, after all
this struggle and all these years,
you don't want to anymore.
You've simply had enough of drowning
and you want to live, and you want to love.

I’ll Find You There ©2012 Louise Fryer

And you'll walk across any territory,
and any darkness, however fluid,
and however dangerous

Bruges 2011 © 2011 Louise Fryer

to take the one
hand and the one life, you know belongs in yours.

~ David Whyte ~

 

linked to Recuerda mi corazon postcards from paradise

 

Photographer Profile: Louise Fryer

I first got into photography in May 2009, after spending some time experimenting in various different areas I found the subject that interested me the most was street photography. It is since January 2011 that I have been seriously concentrating on this area. I focus mainly on street portraiture, I try to capture sensitivity and feeling in my photographs. My inspiration comes from the people I see, my own empathy and feelings towards them. I feel a connection with some of the people I photograph due to my work and my life experiences.

“I see in black & white, colours just complicate things.” ~ Louise Fryer

Louise Hails from London and is a contributor to Shoot the Streets established to promote the art of street photography and increase the exposure of the many talented, and often unknown street photographers who live, breath and shoot the streets.

All photos are copyrighted and permission to use them was generously granted by Louise Fryer. All Rights Reserved.

Note: You may find Louise Fryer’s phenomenal Street Photography on at the following url’s: https://www.facebook.com/StreetPortraits and http://louisefryer.tumblr.com/;google+; and shoot the street.

Supple Cord ~ Naomi Shihab Nye

rugonfalva ©2011 Istvan Kerekes

My brother, in his small white bed,
held one end,
I tugged the other
to signal I was still awake.
We could have spoken,
could have sung
to one another,

rugonfalva ©2011 Isvan Kerekes

we were in the same room
for five years,
but the soft cord
with its little frayed ends
connected us
in the dark,

ujkepek ©2011 Istvan kerekes

gave comfort
even if we had been bickering
all day.

Rugonfalva ©2011 Istvan Kerekes

When he fell asleep first
and his end of the cord
dropped to the floor,
I missed him terribly,
though I could hear his even breath

After dinner © 2011 Istvan Kerkes.

and we had such long and separate lives
ahead.

~Naomi Shihab Nye

(for rebecca with love)

 

~~

About the Photographer

Istvan Kerekes

In His Own Words

I have been a photographer since 2007. My favourite subject is The Man. I would like to show the souls behind the faces. Everyone has feelings, everybody loves and breathes. My subjects are usually ordinary people. My main aim is to show their personalities through my images. One of William Albert Allard’s thoughts on photos and photography is just like mine, I truly believe in it: “the good portrait is about the eye, the look, since the human soul is reflected in it the most purely.”When taking photos it is my heart that leads me. After I have tuned to the subject I act instinctively.

~Istvan Kerekes

Istvan’s website: http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/

*Copyrighted images are posted with kind permission of the photographer.

Nurture

Lollipop Shopper ~ Chinatown NYC ©2011 Blindman Shooting

Nurture

From a documentary on marsupials I learn

that a pillowcase makes a fine

substitute pouch for an orphaned kangaroo.

I am drawn to such dramas of animal rescue.

They are warm in the throat. I suffer, the critic proclaims,

from an overabundance of maternal genes.

Bring me your fallen fledgling, your bummer lamb,

lead the abused, the starvelings, into my barn.

Advise the hunted deer to leap into my corn.

And had there been a wild child—

filthy and fierce as a ferret, he is called

in one nineteenth-century account—

a wild child to love, it is safe to assume,

given my fireside inked with paw prints,

there would have been room.

Think of the language we two, same and not-same,

might have constructed from sign,

scratch, grimace, grunt, vowel:

Laughter our first noun, and our long verb, howl.

~© 1989 by Maxine Kumin, “Nurture” from Selected Poems 1960-1990.

About the Photographer:

Blindman shooting

I have come to realize that my art has diversity with powerful individual vision, that chronicles the life of individuals. People draw me into their lives to tell their story to anyone willing to listen and validate their reason for living. My attraction to story telling grew as my life developed behind a camera. I discovered that its not how a photographer looks at the world that is important, its their relationship with their fellow human beings and these moments of connectivity that are frozen in time for all to see.
last thought for the photographer, "Whatever you look to see outside, is waiting inside you".

Yellow Glove

Automat © 1927 Edward Hopper

Yellow Glove

BY NAOMI SHIHAB NYE
What can a yellow glove mean in a world of motorcars and governments?
I was small, like everyone. Life was a string of precautions: Don’t kiss the squirrel before you bury him, don’t suck candy, pop balloons, drop watermelons, watch TV. When the new gloves appeared one Christmas, tucked in soft tissue, I heard it trailing me: Don’t lose the yellow gloves.
I was small, there was too much to remember. One day, waving at a stream—the ice had cracked, winter chipping down, soon we would sail boats and roll into ditches—I let a glove go. Into the stream, sucked under the street. Since when did streets have mouths? I walked home on a desperate road. Gloves cost money. We didn’t have much. I would tell no one. I would wear the yellow glove that was left and keep the other hand in a pocket. I knew my mother’s eyes had tears they had not cried yet, I didn’t want to be the one to make them flow. It was the prayer I spoke secretly, folding socks, lining up donkeys in windowsills. To be good, a promise made to the roaches who scouted my closet at night. If you don’t get in my bed, I will be good. And they listened. I had a lot to fulfill.
The months rolled down like towels out of a machine. I sang and drew and fattened the cat. Don’t scream, don’t lie, don’t cheat, don’t fight—you could hear it anywhere. A pebble could show you how to be smooth, tell the truth. A field could show how to sleep without walls. A stream could remember how to drift and change—next June I was stirring the stream like a soup, telling my brother dinner would be ready if he’d only hurry up with the bread, when I saw it. The yellow glove draped on a twig. A muddy survivor. A quiet flag.


Where had it been in the three gone months? I could wash it, fold it in my winter drawer with its sister, no one in that world would ever know. There were miracles on Harvey Street. Children walked home in yellow light. Trees were reborn and gloves traveled far, but returned. A thousand miles later, what can a yellow glove mean in a world of bankbooks and stereos?


Part of the difference between floating and going down.

~~~

Naomi Shihab Nye, “Yellow Glove” from Words Under the Words: Selected Poems (Portland, Oregon: Far Corner Books, 1995). Copyright © 1995 by Naomi Shihab Nye. Reprinted with the permission of the author.
Source: Words Under the Words: Selected Poems (Far Corner Books, 1995)
Linked to Share the Joy Thursdays with
 Meri’s Musings

When Art Becomes Life

London Busker South Bank© 2011 Heather Buckley

 

Cloudy Bell Jar

by Delilah Miller

Someone remind me it's a beautiful life;
even if it's the ground keeping you the right way up.
Trip yourself, pat down yourself, unwind yourself and brush off yourself.
I do it all like I've done for everyone else.
The bubble of loneliness always seems ready to pop
while I try to give it a happier name,
As in art, light and movement persist to never stay the same,
Watching summer fade out of my skin
and my eyes and the air I breathe.
Still the ground's under me

and I'm under a huge cloudy bell jar.

England riots: Tariq Jahan, father of Haroon Jahan, one of the three people killed in Birmingham, speaks to the media. Photograph: Carl de Souza/AFP ~guardian.co.uk  8/2011. Link to story is Here

‘I don’t want you to fight.

I’m lost for words. Go home please,

go home.’

~Tariq Jahan , father of one of the murder victims, addresses the crowd desiring revenge for the deaths of the three in Birmingham.

‘It doesn’t matter what colour you are.

For anyone to lose a son is sad.

I’m just praying that nothing more happens tonight.’

~Carol White, 50, a black mother of four who has lived in Winson Green all her life.

More on this story Here

Although these are not quite haikus, I thought that the words of Haroon’s father and some observers of the scene were powerful enough to stand as such.

Linked to Haiku My Heart. For more Haikus Please visit Recuerda mi Corazon. Thank you.

 

About the Photographer:

Heather Buckley Photography

I simply love photography. Since I gave up commercial photography and just do it for the love of it, I probably do even more! I would take on a commission if it really excited me so do get in touch if you think it will – but right now I am really happy just taking images, experimenting with style and processing and having some fun.

I do sell my images of course and you are free to browse the gallery – images are available as prints, canvasses and downloads.

*Photo of London Busker South bank published with author permission.

Lost

After dinner © István Kerekes

The only chance this Romanian boy, living in extreme poverty has for dinner is a glass of milk taken from cows who return home in the evening having spent the day in the fields...This plastic cup is the only cup in the household... ~Istvan Kerekes

 

Lost
Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you,
If you leave it you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.
~ David Wagoner ~

(Riverbed)

Path © 2011 Istvan Kerekes

To understand how to help change child poverty and hunger in Romania, please click on the link HERE.

Istvan Kerekes, In his Own Words:

I have been dealing with photography since 2007. My favourite subject is The Man. I would like to show the souls behind the faces. Everyone has feelings, everybody loves and breathes. My subjects are usually ordinary people. My main aim is to show their personalities through my images.One of William Albert Allard’s thoughts on photos and photography is just like mine, I truly believe in it: “the good portrait is about the eye, the look, since the human soul is reflected in it the most purely.”When taking photos it is my heart that leads me. After I have tuned to the subject I act instinctively.

~Istvan Kerekes

*image posted with kind permission of Istvan Kerekes
Linked to Postcards from Paradise: Please visit Recuerda mi Corazon for more fascinating postcards and insights.

Hope is Bright

©2011 Istvan Kerekes with kind permission
The Rider
(For Will)
A boy told me
if he roller-skated fast enough
his loneliness couldn’t catch up to him,
the best reason I ever heard
for trying to be a champion.
What I wonder tonight
pedaling hard down King William Street
is if it translates to bicycles.
A victory! To leave your loneliness
panting behind you on some street corner
while you float free into a cloud of sudden azaleas,
pink petals that have never felt loneliness,
no matter how slowly they fell.
~The Rider by Naomi Shihab Nye

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Istvan Kerekes, (The Photographer) In his Own Words:
I have been dealing with photography since 2007. My favourite subject is The Man. I would like to show the souls behind the faces. Everyone has feelings, everybody loves and breathes. My subjects are usually ordinary people. My main aim is to show their personalities through my images.One of William Albert Allard’s thoughts on photos and photography is just like mine, I truly believe in it:  “the good portrait is about the eye, the look, since the human soul is reflected in it the most purely.”When taking photos it is my heart that leads me. After I have tuned to the subject I act instinctively.
~Istvan Kerekes