tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82713019798464824082024-02-06T21:20:09.827-08:00IndabaWhere Everyone Has A VoiceNoelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.comBlogger81125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-62973350244525914972023-04-09T09:00:00.001-07:002023-04-09T09:59:29.397-07:00Transformation <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://kerekesistvan.hu/"><img border="0" height="428" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kshlsbsm0zU/U1NeGdi2fAI/AAAAAAAATBs/Ls-SOTjoL1U/s1600/Mindenapi+elet.Everyday+Life+Istvan+Kerekes+2014.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Photo©2014 <span style="color: black;"><a href="http://kerekesistvan.hu/">Istvan Kerekes</a> posted with kind permission</span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b><i>Behold, I Make All Things New</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b><i>(Rev. 21:3-5)</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><b><i>Happy Day of Transformation!</i></b></span></span></div>
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Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-10561637029762409752021-12-24T23:32:00.000-08:002021-12-24T23:32:27.940-08:00Another Kind of Christmas: Close to the Earth<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="http://www.zoriah.net/blog/2008/10/woman-and-child---refugee-camp-gaza-city.html"><img alt="Gaza mother and child Zoriah" border="0" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-OWEIOmH9YzM/T7xj6Ur_1xI/AAAAAAAAMO4/w9MnQO6uZl0/Gaza%252520mother%252520and%252520child%252520Zoriah.jpg?imgmax=800" height="929" style="background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; margin: 3px 0px 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="Gaza mother and child Zoriah" width="620" /></a>Woman and Child - Refugee Camp, Gaza City © <a href="http://www.zoriah.com/"><span style="color: #131f22;"><b>Zoriah/www.zoriah.com</b></span></a><br />
<span style="color: #1d1b25; font-family: Bookman Old Style; font-size: x-small;">Note from the Photographer: A woman holds a child in Gaza City's Beach Camp, one of the world's longest-standing refugee camps. The poverty in such areas often makes you feel as if you have taken a step back in time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: #131f22; font-family: Book Antiqua;"><b>And so it was that while they were there, </b></span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: #131f22; font-family: Book Antiqua;"><b>the days were accomplished that she should be delivered.<br />And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him</b></span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: #131f22; font-family: Book Antiqua;"><b>in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger;</b></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #131f22; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: medium;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><i>because there was no room for them in the inn. </i></span></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #131f22; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: medium;"><b></b></span><i><span style="font-family: Bookman Old Style; font-size: small;"><span style="color: #131f22;"><b></b></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Luke 2: 6-7 KJV</b></span></span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Bookman Old Style; font-size: large;"><i><b>May the God of your Soul give you peace in this Season of Brotherhood and May Angels walk with you into the New Year.</b></i></span></div>
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Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-25587703657423696582013-12-24T20:30:00.000-08:002013-12-24T20:58:41.581-08:00The Spirit of Christmas ~ Haiku My Heart<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://plus.google.com/photos/104987932455782713675/albums/5689048871448953889?hl=en"><img alt="The Spirit of Christmas" height="567" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-N0x_bAKxBUM/TvQTxfYo9uI/AAAAAAAAKJ4/FZghDsm9pzs/The%252520Spirit%252520of%252520Christmas%25255B6%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="display: inline;" title="The Spirit of Christmas" width="850" /></a><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: x-small;"><strong><em><span style="color: #666666;">©2011 </span><a href="https://plus.google.com/104987932455782713675/about?hl=en"><span style="color: #666666;">Thomas Hawk</span></a><span style="color: #666666;"> – </span><a href="https://plus.google.com/photos/104987932455782713675/albums/5689048871448953889?hl=en"><span style="color: #666666;">The Spirit of Christmas – Alameda CA</span></a> (some rights reserved)</em></strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #ccb400; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: large;"><strong><em>The Soft Glow of Lights</em></strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ccb400; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: large;"><strong><em>The Scent of Sweet Pine Branches</em></strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ccb400; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: large;"><strong><em>The Warmth of Friendship.</em></strong></span></div>
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<strong><em><span style="color: #ccb400; font-family: Book Antiqua;">-Noelle Renee</span></em></strong></div>
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<strong><em><span style="color: #ccb400; font-family: Book Antiqua;">Linked with Rebecca’s Blog at <a href="http://corazon.typepad.com/recuerda_mi_corazon/2011/12/haiku-my-heart-1.html"><span style="color: #ccb400;">Recuerda mi Corazon</span></a></span></em></strong></div>
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<strong><em><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: x-small;">~~</span></em></strong></div>
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<em><strong><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: medium;">About the Photographer</span></strong></em> <img height="236" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-_pcedNGx2AU/TqS3ugTdpNI/AAAAAAAAHNM/_WxSZ42ESjM/s720/LifeIsInTheLens%252CSezMr.Hawk.jpg" style="display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="350" /> <br />
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<strong><em><a href="https://plus.google.com/104987932455782713675/about?hl=en"><span style="color: #ccb400; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: medium;">Thomas Hawk</span></a></em></strong> <strong><em>Sometimes I like to think of myself as a photography factory. I see my photographs mostly as raw material for projects that might be worked on at some point later on in life.</em></strong> <strong><em>When I'm not taking or processing the pictures I'm mostly thinking about the pictures. I'm trying to publish a library of 1,000,000 finished, processed photographs before I die.</em></strong> <strong><em>The absurdity of my obsessive compulsive view on photography is not lost on me. But it is the absurdity of life that I find most beautiful of all. Where Sisyphus had his stone I have my camera and a bag full of lenses.</em></strong> <strong><em>Most of my images are Creative Commons licensed, non commercial with attribution. If you'd like to use any CC licensed images for non commercial or personal purposes feel free. If you'd like to use any of my images commercially, please contact me.</em></strong> <strong><i>"Don't think about making art. Just get it done. Let everyone else decide if it's good or bad, whether they love it or hate it. While they're deciding, make even more art."</i> - Andy Warhol</strong> <strong><em><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: x-small;"></span></em></strong><br />
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Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-42064637151094033112013-07-07T10:15:00.001-07:002013-07-07T10:29:59.431-07:00Birdwings ~Rumi<p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-wHKB-UGwBJ8/UdmiMrodlGI/AAAAAAAAQ_g/oeb4-VN0gFY/s1600-h/birdwing%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="display: inline" title="birdwing" alt="birdwing" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-ZcZAysCp_b0/UdmiN0A7EDI/AAAAAAAAQ_o/Hy2lOKwW4fQ/birdwing_thumb%25255B3%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="603" height="769"></a></p> <p><font color="#333333" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong>Birdwings</strong></font> <p><font color="#333333" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong>Your grief for what you’ve lost lifts a mirror</strong></font> <p><font color="#333333" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong>up to where you’re bravely working.</strong></font> <p><font color="#333333" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong>Expecting the worst, you look, and instead,<br>here's the joyful face you’ve been wanting to see.</strong></font> <p><font color="#333333" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong>Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes.<br>If it were always a fist or always stretched open,<br>you would be paralyzed.</strong></font></p> <p><a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/"><img style="display: inline" title="Kerekes50" alt="Kerekes50" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-2a_eKPtDaLs/UdmlXWhAj2I/AAAAAAAARAI/syyEj8OBT_o/Kerekes50%25255B24%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="670" height="444"></a></p> <p><font color="#333333" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong>Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expanding,<br>the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated<br>as birdwings.</strong></font></p> <p><strong><font size="4" face="Book Antiqua">~<font size="3">Jalaluddin Rumi</font></font></strong></p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-yH636RXsepU/UdmiOwPF_1I/AAAAAAAAQ_w/2g2tCE7IOOc/s1600-h/Rumi%252520dervish%252520drawing%25255B2%25255D.jpg"><img style="display: inline" title="Rumi dervish drawing" alt="Rumi dervish drawing" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-gPP1Y12ZuPI/UdmiQASwOGI/AAAAAAAAQ_4/aNsScYdiNzE/Rumi%252520dervish%252520drawing_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="206" height="245"></a> <p>Excerpt from an Online Essay by Margaret Lottridge July 2004 <p>Jalaluddin Rumi (Mawlana) 1207-1273 <p><a href="http://www.towerpoetry.ca/talk-lottridge.html">http://www.towerpoetry.ca/talk-lottridge.html</a> <p>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. <p>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. <p>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. <p>Rumi and Shams met on a street in Konya in the fall of 1244.<br>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…. <p>~Margaret Lottridge 2004 Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-29243098811696712572013-06-14T12:00:00.000-07:002017-06-18T07:48:57.631-07:00Father's Day: The Gift ~ Li-Young Lee <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="http://www.betterphoto.com/gallery/dynoGallDetail.asp?photoID=716274&catID=" target="_blank"><img alt="hands 3" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-VQ--B5mDuMU/T-gPmD84ypI/AAAAAAAAMo8/m7MrKGbkfzU/hands%2525203%25255B6%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" height="734" style="display: inline;" title="hands 3" width="850" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>To pull the metal splinter from my palm</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>my father recited a story in a low voice.</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>I watched his lovely face and not the blade.</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>Before the story ended, he’d removed</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: large;"><strong><em>the iron sliver I thought I’d die from.</em></strong></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: large;"><strong><em><br /></em></strong></span></div>
<a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/" target="_blank"><img alt="Kerekes Hands" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-8sxheeZmYGE/T-gF4qKbvFI/AAAAAAAAMpE/WoK3kcfyc1o/Kerekes%252520Hands%25255B3%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" height="548" style="display: inline;" title="Kerekes Hands" width="876" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>I can’t remember the tale,</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>but hear his voice still, a well</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>of dark water, a prayer.</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>And I recall his hands,</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>two measures of tenderness</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>he laid against my face,</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>the flames of discipline</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: large;"><strong><em>he raised above my head.</em></strong></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: large;"><strong><em><br /></em></strong></span></div>
<a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/" target="_blank"><img alt="erzelem xDSC_0065-02 Kerekes" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-p47NlCEa9is/T-gF6vDw1ZI/AAAAAAAAMpI/59WwTSWbKs8/erzelem%252520xDSC_0065-02%252520Kerekes%25255B7%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" height="530" style="display: inline;" title="erzelem xDSC_0065-02 Kerekes" width="800" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>Had you entered that afternoon</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>you would have thought you saw a man</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>planting something in a boy’s palm,</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>a silver tear, a tiny flame.</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>Had you followed that boy</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>you would have arrived here,</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: large;"><strong><em>where I bend over my wife’s right hand.</em></strong></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: large;"><strong><em><br /></em></strong></span></div>
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<a href="http://www.pxleyes.com/blog/2010/06/a-tribute-to-nicolas-evariste-his-best-photography-exclusive-interview/" target="_blank"><img alt="Blue Gold Nicolas Evariste" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-o2y_SFchC2w/T-6mwuftn4I/AAAAAAAAMtg/TJfXnlcL5uo/Blue%252520Gold%252520Nicolas%252520Evariste%25255B3%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" height="600" style="display: inline;" title="Blue Gold Nicolas Evariste" width="600" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><em><strong>Look how I shave her thumbnail down</strong></em></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><em><strong>so carefully she feels no pain.</strong></em></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: large;"><em><strong>Watch as I lift the splinter out.</strong></em></span> <br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>I was seven when my father</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>took my hand like this,</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>and I did not hold that shard</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>between my fingers and think,</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>Metal that will bury me,</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>christen it Little Assassin,</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>Ore Going Deep for My Heart.</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>And I did not lift up my wound and cry,</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: large;"><strong><em>Death visited here!</em></strong></span> <br />
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<a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/" target="_blank"><img alt="560645_467120869969627_1409366501_n" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-eGLgP3nxh48/T-gGAo5QJXI/AAAAAAAAMpQ/yOYpuuiJbkU/560645_467120869969627_1409366501_n%25255B7%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" height="536" style="display: inline;" title="560645_467120869969627_1409366501_n" width="800" /></a><strong><em>© 2012 <a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/"><span style="color: black;">Istvan Kerekes</span></a> </em></strong><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>I did what a child does</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><strong><em>when he’s given something to keep.</em></strong></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: large;"><strong><em>I kissed my father.</em></strong></span> </div>
Li-Young Lee, “The Gift” from <em>Rose</em>. Copyright ©1986 by Li-Young Lee. <br />
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<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><i>About Istvan Kerekes</i></b></span></h2>
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<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><i>Photographer</i></b></span></div>
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<strong><em><span style="font-family: "bookman old style"; font-size: small;">In His Own Words</span></em></strong></div>
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<b><i>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.</i></b></div>
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<b><i>~<a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/#/content/textpage/" style="color: #555585; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: #ccb400;">Istvan Kerekes</span></a></i></b></div>
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<strong><em><span style="font-family: "bookman old style";">Istvan’s website: </span><a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/" style="color: #555585; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-family: "bookman old style";">http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/</span></a></em></strong></div>
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<b><i>*Copyrighted images are posted with kind permission of the photographer.</i></b></div>
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Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-60625467182197132682013-03-30T21:42:00.000-07:002013-03-30T21:43:22.178-07:00Heartbeat<p> </p> <p><a href="http://facebook.com/louise.c.fryer"><img style="display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto" title="575743_438718379547136_369268963_n" alt="575743_438718379547136_369268963_n" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-7AxjYcVqyio/UVe-6CUiIDI/AAAAAAAAOyU/Q3Mk8ic5XXg/575743_438718379547136_369268963_n%25255B18%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="800" height="800"></a></p> <p><font color="#333333" size="3" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>©2013 </em></strong></font><a href="http://www.louisefryer.com/"><font color="#a88d22" size="3" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>Louise Fryer</em></strong></font></a><font face="Book Antiqua"><font size="3"><strong><em><font color="#666666"> ~</font> <font color="#800000">Heartbeat </font></em></strong></font></font></p> <p><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>“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.”<br></em></strong></font>― <font face="Book Antiqua"><font color="#131f22" size="3"><strong><em>Arundhati Roy, The God of Small Things</em></strong></font></font></p> Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-31347738183187803542013-03-18T23:50:00.001-07:002013-03-18T23:50:40.309-07:00Chiaroscuro<iframe height="800" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/56550339" frameborder="0" width="800" allowfullscreen mozallowfullscreen webkitallowfullscreen></iframe> <p><a href="http://vimeo.com/56550339">Chiaroscuro</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/vituc">Vitùc</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p> <p>Shot with iPhone and Hipstamatic App / Tinto 1848 + D-Type Plate <br>Italy 12.2012<br><br>Music composed by David Ianni<br>Prayers of Silence - Rosa Mystica I<br>http://davidianni.com</p> Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-61584142928295974772013-03-18T00:00:00.001-07:002013-03-18T00:18:16.194-07:00“The Lit Angel We Desire”<p><a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/#/content/start/" target="_blank"><img style="display: inline" title="531598_613364482011931_1082545845_n" alt="531598_613364482011931_1082545845_n" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-twlOkk9M8QA/UUa_t6R7ORI/AAAAAAAAOpE/qqtph9YtPHM/531598_613364482011931_1082545845_n%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="850" height="570"></a><font color="#ccb400" size="2" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/#/content/start/">Istvan Kerekes</a></strong></font><strong><font face="Book Antiqua"><font size="2"> </font></font></strong><strong><font face="Book Antiqua"><font size="2">©<font color="#000000">2013 Feeling</font></font></font></strong></p> <p align="center"><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>What is precious<br>inside us does not<br>care to be known<br>by the mind<br>in ways that diminish<br>its presence.</em></strong></font></p> <p align="center"><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>What we strive for<br>in perfection<br>is not what turns us<br>into the lit angel<br>we desire,</em></strong></font></p> <p align="center"><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>what disturbs<br>and then nourishes<br>has everything<br>we need.</em></strong></font></p> <p align="center"><strong><em><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Book Antiqua">~David Whyte</font></em></strong></p> <p align="center"><strong><em><font color="#131f22" size="3" face="Book Antiqua">Excerpt from “The Winter of Listening”</font></em></strong></p> Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-83799478787786231332013-03-05T22:06:00.001-08:002013-03-05T22:06:01.134-08:00“The Back of the Hand to Everything”<p> </p> <p align="left"><a href="http://www.zoriah.com"><img style="display: inline" title="Residents of Breezy Point Zoriah" alt="Residents of Breezy Point Zoriah" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-8omwFQyNThQ/UTbcuupYchI/AAAAAAAAOhw/ptytXV41T3I/Residents%252520of%252520Breezy%252520Point%252520Zoriah%25255B7%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="800" height="533"></a>©<font color="#ccb400">zoriah/</font><a href="http://www.zoriah.com/"><font color="#ccb400">www.zoriah.com</font></a><font color="#ccb400"> ~ Residents of Breezy Point comfort each other amidst the rubble of what was once their homes</font>.</p> <p align="center"><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>Hurricane</em></strong></font></p> <p align="center"><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>It didn't behave<br>like anything you had<br>ever imagined. The wind<br>tore at the trees, the rain<br>fell for days slant and hard.<br>The back of the hand<br>to everything. I watched<br>the trees bow and their leaves fall<br>and crawl back into the earth.<br>As though, that was that.</em></strong></font></p> <p><a href="http://www.zoriah.com"><img style="display: inline" title="Home Devastation Zoriah" alt="Home Devastation Zoriah" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-t-MjwVEWQB4/UTbcv-UpmmI/AAAAAAAAOh4/UbzbBgSr_Kg/Home%252520Devastation%252520Zoriah%25255B12%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="637" height="921"></a><br>©<font color="#ccb400">zoriah/</font><a href="http://www.zoriah.com/"><font color="#ccb400">www.zoriah.com</font></a><font color="#ccb400"> ~The devastation of hundreds of homes in the wake of a fire caused by Hurricane Sandy in Breezy Point New York</font></p> <p align="center"><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>This was one hurricane<br>I lived through, the other one<br>was of a different sort, and<br>lasted longer. Then<br>I felt my own leaves giving up and<br>falling. </em></strong></font><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>The back of the hand to<br>everything.</em></strong></font></p> <p><a href="http://www.zoriah.com"><img style="display: inline" title="Salvaged Belongings Breezy Point Zoriah" alt="Salvaged Belongings Breezy Point Zoriah" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-3p5ZX7IpDj8/UTbcwzB6l_I/AAAAAAAAOiA/Dw63wr9X_TA/Salvaged%252520Belongings%252520Breezy%252520Point%252520Zoriah%25255B8%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="800" height="533"></a>©<font color="#ccb400">zoriah/</font><a href="http://www.zoriah.com/"><font color="#ccb400">www.zoriah.com</font></a> ~ <font color="#ccb400" size="2"><strong>Residents of Breezy Point Queens haul salvaged belongings from their homes.</strong></font></p> <p align="center"><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>But listen now to what happened<br>to the actual trees;<br>toward the end of that summer they<br>pushed new leaves from their stubbed limbs.<br>It was the wrong season, yes,<br>but they couldn't stop. They<br>looked like telephone poles and didn't<br>care.</em></strong></font></p> <p><a href="http://www.zoriah.com"><img style="display: inline" title="Young girl NY City's East Village Zoriah" alt="Young girl NY City's East Village Zoriah" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-96_6z90Uoc4/UTbcyHm-q-I/AAAAAAAAOiI/cWOFlhg2PsY/Young%252520girl%252520NY%252520City%252527s%252520East%252520Village%252520Zoriah%25255B9%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="800" height="534"></a>©<font color="#ccb400">zoriah/</font><a href="http://www.zoriah.com/"><font color="#ccb400">www.zoriah.com</font></a><font color="#ccb400"> ~A young girl stands inside of a wet store that was destroyed by the water that breached New York City’s East Village.</font></p> <p align="center"><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>And after the leaves came<br>blossoms. For some things<br>there are no wrong seasons.<br>Which is what I dream of for me.</em></strong></font></p> <p align="center"><font color="#ccb400" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>MARY OLIVER</em></strong></font> <p align="center"><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>A Thousand Mornings<br>The Penguin Press</em></strong></font></p> <p> </p> <p><img style="display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto" src="http://www.zoriah.net/.a/6a00e55188bf7a8834017744189186970d-150wi"></p> <p align="center"><font color="#ccb400" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>About the Photographer</em></strong></font></p> <p><a href="www.zoriah.com"><font color="#ccb400">Zoriah</font></a> is an award-winning photojournalist whose work has been featured in some of the world’s most prestigious galleries, museums and publications. Zoriah's clients have included The BBC, Newsweek, The Wall Street Journal, Fortune, ABC News, NPR, Focus and many others. With a background in Disaster Management and Humanitarian Aid, Zoriah specializes in documenting human crises in developing countries. His vitae not only lists photographic achievements and study, but also the in-depth training and experience necessary for working under extreme conditions in some of the world's harshest environments.</p> Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-78882055052457426922013-03-03T21:18:00.001-08:002013-03-03T21:18:39.443-08:00Back in Mind (film)<iframe height="450" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/60331941?title=0&byline=0" frameborder="0" width="800" allowfullscreen mozallowfullscreen webkitallowfullscreen></iframe> <p><a href="http://vimeo.com/60331941">Back in Mind</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/benvideos">Ben</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p> <p><font face="Book Antiqua"><font color="#131f22" size="3"><strong><em>Sometimes you will experience something beautiful and then you are happy to capture it. It’s snowing heavily and I decide to go for a ride on my bike, to capture some snowy landscapes with the GOPRO3 mounted on my bike. (the blurry spots on some images are snowflakes) I also made some shots with the Panasonic HDC-SD10 under a bridge, because of the snow. And then suddenly………… This video is about a meeting with a hare in the snow. And on my way home, I could only think about that special meeting. I’ve tried to show that feeling in this video “Back in Mind”. <br></em></strong></font><br>ferrie = differentieel made a beautiful soundtrack, did the audio and gave me a lot of feedback on the images. Thanks a lot Ferrie!</font><font size="3"></font><strong></strong><em></em><br><br>The soundtrack is a variation on the composition La habitación de Philip en Baltimore (2° versión) by Luis Rojas copyleft 2007<br>https://soundcloud.com/#luisrojas2011/la-habitaci-n-de-philip-en<br><br>Luis Rojas:<br>facebook.com/luisrojas.bahia<br>soundcloud.com/luisrojas2011<br><br>ferrie = differentieel: <br>http://dailym.net/2013/02/back-in-mind/<br>http://audio.dailym.net/2013/02/soundtrack-back-in-mind/<br><br>2013 Creative Commons BY-NC-SA 3.0</p> Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-72102385827635362122013-02-24T23:28:00.001-08:002013-02-24T23:28:46.149-08:00Karst Country ~ Infra-red Timelapse footage<iframe height="400" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/60233275?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0&badge=0" frameborder="0" width="800" allowfullscreen mozallowfullscreen webkitallowfullscreen></iframe> <p><a href="http://vimeo.com/60233275">Karst Country - infra-red timelapse</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/glenryan">Glen Ryan</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p> <p>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<br><br>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. <br><br>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.<br><br>Technical stuff : RED Scarlet / Epic cams... Nikon glass ... IR filters (R72) ... CS6. <br><br>Music by David Lawrence.<br><br>Still working on this ... more stuff soon :)</p> Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-17248512298242879932013-02-21T12:06:00.001-08:002013-02-21T12:06:05.903-08:00In One Kiss<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thomashawk/8487390387/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="531" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XGJLI4unXMg/USZ6ZRq5rAI/AAAAAAAAOW0/aAmPDr6hrfU/s640/8487390387_324229a0b4_c.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">An American Wedding by </span><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thomashawk/8487390387/"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: small;">Thomas Hawk</span></a><span style="font-size: small;"> November 12, 2010</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #660000;">“A man had given all other bliss,<br />And all his worldly worth for this<br />To waste his whole heart in one kiss<br />Upon her perfect lips.”</span> <br />― Alfred Tennyson</span></div>
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Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-55402072962946311892013-02-19T21:44:00.001-08:002013-02-19T21:55:32.777-08:00A Boy and His Dog<p><a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/#/content/pictures1/xDSC%5F0122%2D01.jpg/"><img style="display: inline" title="598787_530092590339121_892027152_n" alt="598787_530092590339121_892027152_n" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-4ZaucIdWMNw/USRizdl5HZI/AAAAAAAAOVs/vhLVLL55h8o/598787_530092590339121_892027152_n%25255B3%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="800" height="513"></a><font size="2" face="Bookman Old Style"><strong>©2013 </strong></font><a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/#/content/pictures1/xDSC%5F0122%2D01.jpg/"><font color="#666666" size="2" face="Bookman Old Style"><strong><em><u>Istvan Kerekes</u></em></strong></font></a><font size="2" face="Bookman Old Style"><strong> posted with kind permission</strong></font></p> <div> <div align="center"><pre><font color="#646b86" size="3" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em> </em><font color="#333333"><font size="4"><em>Boy and His Dog<br /><a href="http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/731"><font color="#ccb400">Edgar Guest</font></a></em></font> <br /><br /></font><font color="#333333" size="4"><em>A boy and his dog make a glorious pair:<br />No better friendship is found anywhere,<br />For they talk and they walk and they run and they play,<br />And they have their deep secrets for many a day;<br />And that boy has a comrade who thinks and who feels,<br />Who walks down the road with a dog at his heels.<br /><br />He may go where he will and his dog will be there,<br />May revel in mud and his dog will not care;<br />Faithful he'll stay for the slightest command<br />And bark with delight at the touch of his hand;<br />Oh, he owns a treasure which nobody steals,<br />Who walks down the road with a dog at his heels.<br /><br />No other can lure him away from his side;<br />He's proof against riches and station and pride;<br />Fine dress does not charm him, and flattery's breath<br />Is lost on the dog, for he's faithful to death;<br />He sees the great soul which the body conceals--<br />Oh, it's great to be young with a dog at your heels!</em></font></strong></font><br /><strong><em><font color="#646b86" size="3" face="Book Antiqua"></font></em></strong></pre></div><br /><p align="center"><strong><em><font color="#ccb400" size="4" face="Book Antiqua">About the Photographer</font></em></strong><br /><p align="center"><img style="display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto" src="http://1x.com/u/profile/14d72327462576465298c8a90b0df3d1.jpg"><i><strong><a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/#/content/textpage/"><font color="#ccb400" size="3" face="Bookman Old Style">Istvan Kerekes</font></a></strong></i><br /><p align="center"><strong><em><font size="3" face="Bookman Old Style">In His Own Words</font></em></strong><br /><p><b><i>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.</i></b><br /><p><b><i>~<a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/#/content/textpage/"><font color="#ccb400">Istvan Kerekes</font></a></i></b><br /><p><strong><em><font size="2" face="Bookman Old Style">Istvan’s website: </font><a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/"><font size="2" face="Bookman Old Style">http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/</font></a></em></strong><br /><p><b><i>*Copyrighted images are posted with kind permission of the photographer.</i></b></p></div> Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-27722214329087236272012-11-29T20:20:00.000-08:002012-11-29T20:22:29.619-08:00Outliers, Vol. I: Iceland - "Black Beach" (Film)<iframe height="450" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/54416021?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0&color=ffffff" frameborder="0" width="800" allowfullscreen mozallowfullscreen webkitallowfullscreen></iframe> <p><a href="http://vimeo.com/54416021">Outliers, Vol. I: Iceland - "Black Beach" by Deru</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/scenicstudio">www.scenicstudio.tv</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p> <p>Shot on location at Reynisfjara Beach, Iceland. October 2011.<br><br>http://www.outliersiceland.com<br><br>Buy the film in 1080p or 720p HD:<br>http://downloads.scenicstudio.tv<br><br><br>Editor: Anthony Ciannamea<br>Art Direction and Design: Ryan Sievert (ryansievert.com)<br>Motion Design and CG: Mark Wisniowski (probe3.com) and Anthony Ciannamea (effixx.com)<br>Cinematography: Mark Wisniowski / Ryan Sievert / Anthony Ciannamea (ScenicStudio.tv)<br>Music: "Black Beach" by Deru (deru.la)</p> Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-41987381995356816712012-11-13T06:00:00.000-08:002012-11-13T06:00:15.503-08:00Tribal Woman<p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/m2digital/"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 5px 0px 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="_GKP2803-4" border="0" alt="_GKP2803-4" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-y33eiCnjlKs/UKFLNuBl1zI/AAAAAAAANsE/6RlpJAEtigo/_GKP2803-4%25255B14%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="854" height="567"></a><font color="#ccb400">Rajasthan ©2012 </font><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/m2digital/"><font color="#ccb400">George Koruth</font></a> <font color="#ccb400">with kind permission</font></p> <h4><font color="#aa2822">Closed Path</font></h4> <p><font color="#333333" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>I</em></strong></font><font color="#333333" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em> thought that my voyage had come to its end<br>at the last limit of my power,---that the path before me was closed,<br>that provisions were exhausted<br>and the time come to take shelter in a silent obscurity.<br>But I find that thy will knows no end in me.<br>And when old words die out on the tongue,<br>new melodies break forth from the heart;<br>and where the old tracks are lost,<br>new country is revealed with its wonders.</em></strong></font> <p><font color="#333333" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>Rabindranath Tagore</em></strong></font> <p><strong><em><font size="4" face="Book Antiqua"></font></em></strong> <p><strong><em><font color="#ccb400" size="4" face="Book Antiqua">About the Photographer:</font></em></strong> <p><strong><em><font size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><a href="https://plus.google.com/108093196978439295882/about"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Up5n_kcdHqk/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAALyw/KfC7N9MNfoo/s250-c-k/photo.jpg"></a></font></em></strong></p> <p><strong><em><font color="#666666" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/m2digital">George Koruth</a></font></em></strong></p> <p>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. Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-51625497661103592902012-11-11T23:54:00.001-08:002012-11-11T23:54:37.087-08:00Let’s Find a Way<p><a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/"><img style="display: inline" title="205274_491055137576200_609179837_n" alt="205274_491055137576200_609179837_n" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-iD5yuXUco64/UKCrO5xd5lI/AAAAAAAANr0/nJ_hn3vZKaI/205274_491055137576200_609179837_n%25255B5%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="536" height="800"></a><font color="#ccb400">Mindennapi Elet (Everyday Life) ©2012 </font><a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/"><font color="#ccb400">Istvan Kerekes</font></a></p> <p align="center"><strong><em><font color="#1d1b25" size="4" face="Book Antiqua">Piglet's Song</font></em></strong></p> <p align="center"><strong><em><font color="#1d1b25" size="4" face="Book Antiqua">Let's find a Way today,<br>that can take us to tomorrow.<br>We'll follow that Way,<br>A Way like flowing water.</font></em></strong></p> <p align="center"><strong><em><font color="#1d1b25" size="4" face="Book Antiqua">Let's leave behind,<br>the things that do not matter.<br>And we'll turn our lives,<br>to a more important chapter.</font></em></strong></p> <p align="center"><strong><em><font color="#1d1b25" size="4" face="Book Antiqua">Let's take the time and try to find,<br>what real life has to offer.<br>And maybe then we'll find again,<br>what we had long forgotten.<br>Like a friend, true 'til the end,<br>it will help us onward.</font></em></strong></p> <p align="center"><strong><em><font color="#1d1b25" size="4" face="Book Antiqua">The sun is high, the road is wide,<br>and it starts where we are standing.<br>No one knows how far it goes,<br>for the road is never-ending.</font></em></strong></p> <p align="center"><strong><em><font color="#1d1b25" size="4" face="Book Antiqua">It goes away,<br>beyond what we have thought of.<br>It flows away,<br>Away like flowing water.</font></em></strong></p> <p align="center"><strong><em><font color="#1d1b25" size="4" face="Book Antiqua">~ Benjamin Hoff ~</font></em></strong> <p align="center"><strong><em><font color="#1d1b25" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"></font></em></strong> <p align="center"><strong><em><font color="#1d1b25" size="4" face="Book Antiqua">(The Te of Piglet)</font></em></strong> <p align="center"><strong><em><font color="#1d1b25" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"></font></em></strong> <p align="center"><strong><em><font color="#ccb400" size="3">About the Photographer</font></em></strong> <p><img style="display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto" src="http://1x.com/u/profile/14d72327462576465298c8a90b0df3d1.jpg"> <p align="center"><i><strong><a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/#/content/textpage/"><font color="#ccb400">Istvan Kerekes</font></a></strong></i> <p><strong><em>In His Own Words</em></strong> <p><b><i>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.</i></b> <p><b><i>~<a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/#/content/textpage/"><font color="#ccb400">Istvan Kerekes</font></a></i></b> <p><strong><em>Istvan’s website: <a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/"><font color="#ccb400">http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/</font></a></em></strong> <p><b><i>*Copyrighted images are posted with kind permission of the photographer.</i></b> Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-55700983826917215432012-10-05T22:31:00.001-07:002013-02-19T23:46:54.246-08:00Birdwings<p><a href="https://www.facebook.com/LouiseFryer.StreetPhotography?fref=ts" target="_blank"><img style="display: inline" title="169516_475523412478450_2118960944_o" alt="169516_475523412478450_2118960944_o" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-yDnhhiE1O4c/UG_CERjxEwI/AAAAAAAANiU/tYCvKIa7itI/169516_475523412478450_2118960944_o%25255B12%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="850" height="601"></a><font color="#646b86" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em><font color="#ccb400">"At Highgate Cemetary” ©</font><a href="https://www.facebook.com/LouiseFryer.StreetPhotography?fref=ts"><font color="#ccb400">2012 </font><a href="https://www.facebook.com/LouiseFryer.StreetPhotography?fref=ts"><font color="#ccb400">Louise Fryer</font></a></a></em></strong></font></p> <p align="center"><strong><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Andalus"><em>Birdwings</em></font></strong> <p align="center"><em><strong><font size="4"><font face="Andalus"><font color="#131f22">Your grief for what you've lost lifts a mirror<u></u><u></u></font></font></font></strong></em> <p align="center"><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Andalus"><em><strong>up to where you're bravely working.</strong></em></font> <p align="center"><em><strong><font size="4"><font face="Andalus"><font color="#131f22">Expecting the worst, you look, and instead,<u></u><u></u></font></font></font></strong></em> <p align="center"><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Andalus"><em><strong>here's the joyful face you've been wanting to see.</strong></em></font> <p align="center"><em><strong><font size="4"><font face="Andalus"><font color="#131f22">Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes.<u></u><u></u></font></font></font></strong></em> <p align="center"><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Andalus"><em><strong>If it were always fist or always stretched open, </strong></em></font> <p align="center"><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Andalus"><em><strong>you would be paralyzed.</strong></em></font> <p align="center"><em><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Andalus"><strong>Your deepest presence is in every small </strong></font></em> <p align="center"><em><strong><font size="4"><font face="Andalus"><font color="#131f22">contracting and expanding.<u></u><u></u></font></font></font></strong></em> <p align="center"><em><strong><font size="4"><font face="Andalus"><font color="#131f22">the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated<u></u><u></u></font></font></font></strong></em> <p align="center"><em><strong><font size="4"><font face="Andalus"><font color="#131f22">as bird wings.<u></u><u></u></font></font></font></strong></em> <p align="center"><em><strong><font size="4"><font face="Andalus"><font color="#131f22"> ~Rumi</font></font></font></strong></em> <p align="center"><em><strong><font size="4"><font face="Andalus"><font color="#131f22"></font></font></font></strong></em> <p align="center"> <a href="https://www.facebook.com/louise.c.fryer"><img style="display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto" src="https://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn1/s720x720/32606_423856397700001_1295396149_n.jpg" width="350" height="350"></a><font color="#ccb400" size="2" face="Book Antiqua">©2013 <a href="https://www.facebook.com/louise.c.fryer"><font color="#ccb400">Louise Fryer</font></a></font> <h6 align="center"><font color="#ccb400" size="3"><font color="#ccb400">Photographer Profile: Louise</font> Fryer</font></h6> <p><strong><font size="2" face="Book Antiqua">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.</font></strong> <p><i><font size="2" face="Book Antiqua">“I see in black & white, colours just complicate things.” ~ Louise Fryer</font></i> <p><strong><font size="2" face="Book Antiqua">Louise Hails from London and is a contributor to </font><a href="http://shootthestreet.com/"><font color="#ccb400" size="2" face="Book Antiqua">Shoot the Streets</font></a><font size="2" face="Book Antiqua"> 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.</font></strong> <p><strong><font size="2" face="Book Antiqua">All photos are copyrighted and permission to use them was generously granted by Louise Fryer. All Rights Reserved.</font></strong> <p><strong><font size="2" face="Book Antiqua">Note: You may find </font><a href="https://plus.google.com/u/0/107754205740456364800/about"><font color="#ccb400" size="2" face="Book Antiqua">Louise Fryer’s</font></a><font color="#ccb400"></font><font face="Book Antiqua"><font size="2"> phenomenal Street Photography <font color="#ccb400">Here; <a href="http://louisefryer.tumblr.com/" target="_blank"><font color="#ccb400">Here</font></a> </font></font></font></strong><font face="Book Antiqua"><font size="2"><strong>and</strong> </font></font><a href="http://shootthestreet.com/"><font color="#ccb400" size="2" face="Book Antiqua">Shoot the Streets</font></a><font color="#ccb400" size="2" face="Book Antiqua">.</font> Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-29033570895616650462012-08-19T20:26:00.001-07:002012-08-20T19:55:59.354-07:00Wherever You Are is Called Here<p><a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/William-Mazdra-Photography/353570041359399"><img style="display: inline" title="221171_393385000711236_1539628559_o" alt="221171_393385000711236_1539628559_o" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-5-LXUkMDq4s/UDGuaaauYeI/AAAAAAAANN0/wf6MVIlhiPA/221171_393385000711236_1539628559_o%25255B11%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="850" height="638"></a></p> <p><font face="Book Antiqua"><font color="#646b86" size="2">In these woods ~ ©2012 </font><a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/William-Mazdra-Photography/353570041359399"><font color="#ccb400" size="2">William Mazdra</font></a> ~<font color="#3c2d51">with kind permission. All Rights Reserved.</font></font></p> <p align="center"><font color="#1d1b25" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>Lost<br>Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you<br>Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,<br>And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,<br>Must ask permission to know it and be known.<br>The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,<br>I have made this place around you,<br>If you leave it you may come back again, saying Here.<br>No two trees are the same to Raven.<br>No two branches are the same to Wren.<br>If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,<br>You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows<br>Where you are. You must let it find you.</em></strong></font></p> <p align="center"><font color="#1d1b25" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>~David Wagoner<br></p></em></strong></font> <p align="center"><font face="Book Antiqua"><font size="4"><em><font color="#1d1b25" size="3">~An old Native American elder story rendered into modern English </font></em></font></font></p> <p align="center"><em><font color="#ccb400" size="3" face="Book Antiqua">About the Photographer</font></em></p> <p align="center"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-CVYAdVR22Uc/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAQt4/_PWwibXSkCs/s250-c-k/photo.jpg"></p> <p align="center"><em><font color="#3c2d51" size="3" face="Book Antiqua"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/William-Mazdra-Photography/353570041359399"><strong>William Mazdra</strong></a></font></em></p> <p align="center"><font color="#3c2d51" size="3" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>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. </em></strong></font> <p align="center"><font color="#3c2d51" size="3" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>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.</em></strong></font></p> <p align="center">~Words directly quoted from William Mazdra’s bio on G+</p> Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-84480699025986874432012-07-21T22:03:00.001-07:002012-12-19T11:43:06.560-08:00It Happens to those that Live Alone<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/StreetPortraits"><img alt="412621_370578756306250_1543042777_o" height="1045" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-nzQy0hwGoBk/UAuJeP87DrI/AAAAAAAAM_g/-b6e7ATLNws/412621_370578756306250_1543042777_o%25255B5%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="display: inline;" title="412621_370578756306250_1543042777_o" width="699" /></a><strong><em><span style="color: #ccb400; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/StreetPortraits">©2012 Louise Fryer</a> –Lillesden, Hawkhurst England</span></em></strong><span style="color: #131f22; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: medium;"><strong><em><br /></em></strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #131f22; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: medium;"><strong><em>It happens to those<br />who live alone<br />That they feel sure<br />of visitors<br />when no-one else<br />is there.</em></strong></span></div>
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/StreetPortraits"><img alt="456649_371327846231341_690956067_o" height="589" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-ecBNiswqyWY/UAuJgjKsI-I/AAAAAAAAM_o/i1SGfZuIfpA/456649_371327846231341_690956067_o%25255B5%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="display: inline;" title="456649_371327846231341_690956067_o" width="850" /></a><strong><em><span style="color: #ccb400; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/StreetPortraits">©2012 Louise Fryer</a> –Lillesden, Hawkhurst England</span></em></strong><br />
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<span style="color: #131f22; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: medium;"><strong><em>Until the one day<br />And one particular<br />hour<br />Working in the<br />quiet garden</em></strong></span></div>
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<strong><em><span style="color: #ccb400; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: medium;">~</span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="color: #131f22; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: medium;"><strong><em>when the<br />green bud<br />at the center<br />of their slowly<br />opening silence<br />flowers<br />in belonging</em></strong></span></div>
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/StreetPortraits"><img alt="412750_410921028938689_1184876366_o" height="805" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-Spsnmewpsbw/UAuJjdkdibI/AAAAAAAAM_w/0nm3Rw8Wpzc/412750_410921028938689_1184876366_o%25255B6%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="display: inline;" title="412750_410921028938689_1184876366_o" width="614" /></a><strong><em><span style="color: #ccb400; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/StreetPortraits">©2012 Louise Fryer</a> –Lillesden, Hawkhurst England</span></em></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="color: #131f22; font-size: medium;"><strong><em>and they realize<br />at once,<br />that all along<br />they have been<br />an invitation<br />to everything<br />and every kind of trouble</em></strong></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="color: #131f22; font-size: medium;"><strong><em><span style="color: #ccb400;">~</span></em></strong></span></span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="color: #131f22; font-size: medium;"><strong><em>and that life<br />happens by<br />to those who<br />inhabit<br />silence<br /><span style="color: #ccb400;">~</span></em></strong></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="color: #131f22; font-size: medium;"><strong><em>Like the bees<br />Visiting<br />The tall mallow<br />On their legs of gold,<br />Or the wasps<br />Going from door to door<br />In the tall forest<br />Of the daisies</em></strong></span></span></div>
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/StreetPortraits"><img alt="415061_394731203891005_404569447_o" height="484" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-In58yc3_Y1A/UAuJlwMutTI/AAAAAAAAM_4/bHmRpxHDWMw/415061_394731203891005_404569447_o%25255B9%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="display: inline;" title="415061_394731203891005_404569447_o" width="850" /></a><strong><em><span style="color: #ccb400; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/StreetPortraits">©2012 Louise Fryer</a> –Lillesden, Hawkhurst England</span></em></strong><br />
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<span style="color: #131f22; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: medium;"><strong><em></em></strong></span> </div>
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<span style="color: #131f22; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: medium;"><strong><em>I have my freedom<br />Today<br />Because<br />Nothing really happened</em></strong></span></div>
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<strong><em><span style="color: #ccb400; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: medium;">~</span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="color: #131f22; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: medium;"><strong><em>And nobody came<br />To see me.<br />Only the slow<br />Growing of the garden<br />In the summer heat<br />And the silence of that<br />Unborn life<br />Making itself<br />Known at my desk</em></strong></span></div>
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/StreetPortraits"><img alt="474320_362081853822607_1513935537_o" height="477" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-BPptk_6zGOU/UAuJoLcEaCI/AAAAAAAANAA/jv2B69_F0bg/474320_362081853822607_1513935537_o%25255B8%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="display: inline;" title="474320_362081853822607_1513935537_o" width="850" /></a><em><span style="color: #ccb400; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/StreetPortraits"><strong>©2012 Louise Fryer</strong></a> –Lillesden, Hawkhurst England</span></em><br />
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<span style="color: #131f22; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: medium;"><strong><em>My hands<br />Still<br />Dark with the<br />Crumbling soil<br />As I write<br />And watch</em></strong></span></div>
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/StreetPortraits"><img alt="321858_353768784653914_63942825_o" height="805" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-ws3ncMS8sLE/UAuJrYrCoVI/AAAAAAAANAI/rCQJ-12znVQ/321858_353768784653914_63942825_o%25255B23%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="display: inline;" title="321858_353768784653914_63942825_o" width="805" /></a><strong><em><span style="color: #ccb400; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/StreetPortraits">©2012 Louise Fryer</a> –Lillesden, Hawkhurst England</span></em></strong><br />
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<strong><em><span style="color: #131f22; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: medium;">The first lines<br />Of a new poem<br />Like flowers<br />Of scarlet fire,<br />Coming to fullness in a new light.<br />~David Whyte</span></em></strong></div>
<em><span style="color: #ccb400; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: small;">Note: My Gracious Thanks to Louise Fryer for these Extraordinary Images</span></em><br />
Linked with Postcards from Paradise at <a href="http://corazon.typepad.com/recuerda_mi_corazon/2012/07/postcards-from-paradise-mourning-doves.html">recuerda mi corazon</a></div>
Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-85589928672182800852012-07-10T21:30:00.001-07:002012-07-10T21:30:41.865-07:00Minotaur from Daniel Sousa (film)<iframe height="600" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/44050358?portrait=0&color=ffffff" frameborder="0" width="800" allowfullscreen mozallowfullscreen webkitallowfullscreen></iframe> <p>1998, 8 minutes, 16mm<br>Sound Design by Dan Golden<br>Cello played by Judy Rubin<br><br>A loose interpretation of the Minoan myth, as seen through the monster's point of view. Abandoned in a labyrinthine island, the childlike minotaur has as his only companion a playful red ball and a multitude of mirrors. When he sees his own image he imagines himself dancing in perfect synchronicity with a mysterious other. But new characters are brought to the island, and they don't behave like his choreographed twins. Confused and frustrated, the creature has to learn to adapt to a world of uncertainty. But when he can't, the monster's true nature is revealed.<br><br>Technique: Most of the character animation was originally hand-drawn on a light table, cut out and mounted on rigid cardboard. This was done so that each replacement could stand up vertically within a three-dimensional set. The set was then lit with fiber-optic lights and shot in stop-motion, using a 16mm Bolex camera. Some of the animation was done as hinged cut-out puppets on glass, using a multi-plane rig.<br><br><br><br><br><br>Festivals and Awards<br><br><br>Anima Mundi International Animation Festival, Brazil<br>Melbourne International Film Festival, Australia<br>New England Film Festival, MA • Honorable Mention<br>Atlanta Film and Video Festival, GA • Honorable Mention<br>Humboldt International Film Festival, CA • Best Animation<br>Big Muddy Film Festival, IL</p> Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-55394055064780532122012-06-16T22:49:00.001-07:002012-06-16T22:49:48.319-07:00Eliott<iframe height="450" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/43934792?portrait=0&color=ffffff" frameborder="0" width="800" allowfullscreen mozallowfullscreen webkitallowfullscreen></iframe> <p><a href="http://vimeo.com/43934792">Eliott</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/aymericayral">Aymeric Ayral</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p> Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-81116589021471512532012-06-09T20:08:00.001-07:002012-06-10T15:49:52.059-07:00The Last Supper<p><a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/"><img style="display: inline" title="Kerekes- Boy's last supper" alt="Kerekes- Boy's last supper" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-SsmvW-gXk_I/T9Ukjm82YJI/AAAAAAAAMfI/l1M7Dxg60Jc/Kerekes-%252520Boy%252527s%252520last%252520supper%25255B5%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="536" height="800"></a>Portrait ©2012 <a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/"><font color="#131f22">Istvan Kerekes</font></a> with kind permission</p> <p align="center"><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>Here they are gathered, wondering and deranged,<br>Round Him, who wisely doth Himself inclose,<br>And who now takes Himself away, estranged,<br>From those who owned Him once, and past them<br>flows.<br></p></em></strong></font><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em></em></strong></font> <p align="center"><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>He feels the ancient loneliness to-day<br>That taught Him all His deepest acts of love;<br>Now in the olive groves He soon will rove,<br>And these who love Him all will flee away.<br>To the last supper table He hath led.<br></p></em></strong></font> <p align="center"><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>As birds are frightened from a garden-bed<br>By shots, so He their hands forth from the bread<br>Doth frighten by His word: to Him they flee;<br>Then flutter round the table in their fright<br>And seek a passage from the hall. But He<br>Is everywhere, like dusk at fall of night.</em></strong></font></p> <blockquote> <p align="center"><strong><em><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"> ~Rainer Maria Rilke</font></em></strong></p></blockquote> <p align="center"><strong><font color="#ccb400" size="4" face="Book Antiqua">About the Photographer</font></strong> <p><img style="display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto" src="http://1x.com/u/profile/14d72327462576465298c8a90b0df3d1.jpg"></p> <p align="center"><i><strong><a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/#/content/textpage/"><font color="#ccb400" size="4" face="Book Antiqua">Istvan Kerekes</font></a></strong></i> <p><b><i>I<font size="3" face="Book Antiqua"> 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.</font></i></b> <p><b><i><font color="#ccb400" size="3" face="Book Antiqua">~</font><a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/#/content/textpage/"><font color="#ccb400" size="3" face="Book Antiqua">Istvan Kerekes</font></a></i></b> <p><strong><em><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">Istvan’s website: </font><a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/"><font color="#ccb400" size="3" face="Book Antiqua">http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/</font></a></em></strong> <p><b><i><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">*Copyrighted images are posted with kind permission of the photographer.</font></i></b> <p><font color="#131f22" size="3"><strong>Linked to Postcards from Paradise at <a href="http://corazon.typepad.com/"><font color="#ccb400">Recuerda mi Corazon</font></a></strong></font></p> Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-58201821062636429952012-05-25T20:58:00.001-07:002013-06-14T12:53:04.364-07:00Has Anyone Seen the Boy?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="http://1x.com/photo/50798/portfolio/39465"><img alt="_GUR7842-02" border="0" height="586" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-K301EHxns7g/T8EYiVIK0tI/AAAAAAAAMOs/UQhTpueUL9E/_GUR7842-02%25255B9%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; margin: 1px 0px 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="_GUR7842-02" width="875" /></a><a href="http://1x.com/photo/50798/portfolio/39465"><span style="color: black;">Best Friends</span></a> ©2012 <a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/"><span style="color: #131f22;">Istvan Kerekes</span></a><br />
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<b><span style="color: #ccb400; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: medium;"><em>Have you seen the boy?<br />"I had been looking for him for years... I<br />remember him, full of love, generous heart, a<br />fiery passion." <br />Some boys have a story to tell:<br />They get lost to us....</em></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #131f22; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: medium;"><em>Has anyone seen the boy<br />who used to come here?<br />Round-faced trouble-maker,<br />quick to find a joke,<br />slow to be serious, red shirt,<br />perfect coordination, sly,<br />strong muscled,<br />with things always in his pocket:<br />reed flute, worn pick,<br />polished and ready for his Talent--<br />you know that one.<br />Have you heard stories about him?<br />Pharaoh and the whole Egyptian world<br />collapsed for such a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joseph_(son_of_Jacob)"><span style="color: #131f22;"><u>Joseph</u></span></a>.<br />I'd gladly spend years getting word<br />of him, even third or fourth hand.</em></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #ccb400; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: medium;"><em>There is a wonderful, magical energy in a<br />boy. And the tragedy is that it can be so<br />easily lost. It is a peculiar wildness of<br />heart. <br />Have you ever met that wild heart?<br />He is so longed for and dearly missed. Oh,<br />how we miss our boys.</em></span></b></div>
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<strong><em><span style="color: #131f22; font-family: Bookman Old Style; font-size: medium;">~(Blue portion is from <span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;">Rumi’s (Red Shirt))</span></span></em></strong></div>
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<strong><em><span style="color: #131f22; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="color: #ccb400;">Preface</span> and <span style="color: #ccb400;">Closing</span> in <span style="color: #ccb400;">gold</span><span style="color: #131f22;"> taken from </span></span><a href="http://wordpaths.com/ragboneshop/Wildness/hasanyoneseentheboy.html"><span style="color: #ccb400; font-family: Book Antiqua;"><u>Here</u></span></a></span></em></strong></div>
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<strong><em><span style="color: #131f22; font-family: Bookman Old Style; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;">Story of <span style="color: #d16349;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eutyches"><span style="color: #c0504d;"><u>Red Shirt</u></span></a></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"> may be found here</span> .</span></span></em></strong></div>
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<em><span style="color: black; font-family: Bookman Old Style; font-size: medium;">linked to <a href="http://corazon.typepad.com/recuerda_mi_corazon/2012/05/postcards-from-paradise-the-art-of-remembering-1.html"><span style="color: black;"><u>Postcards from Paradise</u></span></a><u> </u>at Rebecca’s for Memorial Day</span></em></div>
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<strong><em><span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">About the Photographer</span></em></strong> </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aRlKyzu10iY/UbtyYk704mI/AAAAAAAAQt8/5U24uVW_hfM/s1600/Istvan+Kerekes+profile+2013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aRlKyzu10iY/UbtyYk704mI/AAAAAAAAQt8/5U24uVW_hfM/s320/Istvan+Kerekes+profile+2013.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i><strong><a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/#/content/textpage/"><span style="color: #ccb400; font-family: Bookman Old Style; font-size: medium;">Istvan Kerekes</span></a></strong></i></div>
<b><i><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: small;">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.</span></i></b> <br />
<b><i><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: small;">~</span><a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/#/content/textpage/"><span style="color: black; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: small;">Istvan Kerekes</span></a></i></b> <br />
<strong><em><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: small;">Istvan’s website: </span><a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/"><span style="color: black; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: small;">http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/</span></a></em></strong> <br />
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: small;"><strong><em>Best Friends</em></strong> <strong>can be found on<em> </em></strong></span><a href="http://1x.com/photo/50798/portfolio/39465"><span style="color: black; font-family: Book Antiqua; font-size: small;"><strong><em>1x.com</em></strong></span></a> <br />
<b><i>*Copyrighted images are posted with kind permission of the photographer.</i></b><br />
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Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-8852960795385760092012-05-24T17:34:00.001-07:002012-05-25T18:53:44.565-07:00Crow Moon (Video)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="450" mozallowfullscreen="" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/42685557" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="800"></iframe><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">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.<br /><br />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.</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong><em>Crow Haiku</em></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong><em>They end their flight</em></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong><em> one by one-- </em></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong><em>crows at dusk </em></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong><em>~Buson</em></strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong><em><br /></em></strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b><i>Linked to <a href="http://corazon.typepad.com/recuerda_mi_corazon/2012/05/haiku-my-heart-1.html"><span style="color: black;">Recuerda mi Corazon</span></a></i></b></span><br />
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</div>Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271301979846482408.post-5791215237539645782012-05-16T07:27:00.001-07:002012-05-26T11:01:10.831-07:00Entrance<p><a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/#/content/termeszet/"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 3px 0px 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="Istvan Kerekes dark Tree" border="0" alt="Istvan Kerekes dark Tree" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-DMHStVwj_H0/T7O5a_WI8EI/AAAAAAAAMO8/RXLqVzk75xI/Istvan%252520Kerekes%252520dark%252520Tree.jpg?imgmax=800" width="800" height="530"></a><a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/#/content/termeszet/"><font color="#000000">Termeszet</font></a><font color="#000000"> ©2012 </font><a href="http://www.kerekesistvan.hu/#/content/textpage/"><font color="#000000">Istvan Kerekes</font></a></p> <p align="center"><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>Entrance</em></strong></font> <p align="center"><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>(After Rilke)</em></strong></font> <p align="center"><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>Whoever you are: step out of doors tonight,<br>Out of the room that lets you feel secure.<br>Infinity is open to your sight.<br>Whoever you are.<br>With eyes that have forgotten how to see<br>From viewing things already too well-known,<br>Lift up into the dark a huge, black tree<br>And put it in the heavens: tall, alone.<br>And you have made the world and all you see.<br>It ripens like the words still in your mouth.<br>And when at last you comprehend its truth,<br>Then close your eyes and gently set it free.</em></strong></font></p> <p align="center"><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>~ Dana Gioia ~</em></strong></font> <p align="center"><font color="#131f22" size="4" face="Book Antiqua"><strong><em>(Interrogations at Noon)</em></strong></font> <p align="center"><strong><em><font color="#131f22" size="2" face="Book Antiqua">Poem found at <a href="http://www.panhala.net/Archive/Entrance.html"><font color="#000000">www.panhala.net/Archive/Entrance.html</font></a></font></em></strong></p> Noelle Clearwaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15879264907115107737noreply@blogger.com0