Indaba: Belonging

Showing posts with label Belonging. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

The Spirit of Christmas ~ Haiku My Heart

The Soft Glow of Lights

The Scent of Sweet Pine Branches

The Warmth of Friendship.

-Noelle Renee

Linked with Rebecca’s Blog at Recuerda mi Corazon

About the Photographer

Thomas Hawk 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. 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. 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. 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. "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." - Andy Warhol

Friday, June 14, 2013

Father's Day: The Gift ~ Li-Young Lee

To pull the metal splinter from my palm

my father recited a story in a low voice.

I watched his lovely face and not the blade.

Before the story ended, he’d removed

the iron sliver I thought I’d die from.

I can’t remember the tale,

but hear his voice still, a well

of dark water, a prayer.

And I recall his hands,

two measures of tenderness

he laid against my face,

the flames of discipline

he raised above my head.

Had you entered that afternoon

you would have thought you saw a man

planting something in a boy’s palm,

a silver tear, a tiny flame.

Had you followed that boy

you would have arrived here,

where I bend over my wife’s right hand.

Look how I shave her thumbnail down

so carefully she feels no pain.

Watch as I lift the splinter out.

I was seven when my father

took my hand like this,

and I did not hold that shard

between my fingers and think,

Metal that will bury me,

christen it Little Assassin,

Ore Going Deep for My Heart.

And I did not lift up my wound and cry,

Death visited here!

I did what a child does

when he’s given something to keep.

I kissed my father.

About Istvan Kerekes

Photographer

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.

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

“The Back of the Hand to Everything”

©zoriah/www.zoriah.com ~ Residents of Breezy Point comfort each other amidst the rubble of what was once their homes.

Hurricane

It didn't behave
like anything you had
ever imagined. The wind
tore at the trees, the rain
fell for days slant and hard.
The back of the hand
to everything. I watched
the trees bow and their leaves fall
and crawl back into the earth.
As though, that was that.

©zoriah/www.zoriah.com ~The devastation of hundreds of homes in the wake of a fire caused by Hurricane Sandy in Breezy Point New York

This was one hurricane
I lived through, the other one
was of a different sort, and
lasted longer. Then
I felt my own leaves giving up and
falling. The back of the hand to
everything.

©zoriah/www.zoriah.com ~ Residents of Breezy Point Queens haul salvaged belongings from their homes.

But listen now to what happened
to the actual trees;
toward the end of that summer they
pushed new leaves from their stubbed limbs.
It was the wrong season, yes,
but they couldn't stop. They
looked like telephone poles and didn't
care.

©zoriah/www.zoriah.com ~A young girl stands inside of a wet store that was destroyed by the water that breached New York City’s East Village.

And after the leaves came
blossoms. For some things
there are no wrong seasons.
Which is what I dream of for me.

MARY OLIVER

A Thousand Mornings
The Penguin Press

About the Photographer

Zoriah 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.

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

A Boy and His Dog

 Boy and His Dog
Edgar Guest 

A boy and his dog make a glorious pair:
No better friendship is found anywhere,
For they talk and they walk and they run and they play,
And they have their deep secrets for many a day;
And that boy has a comrade who thinks and who feels,
Who walks down the road with a dog at his heels.

He may go where he will and his dog will be there,
May revel in mud and his dog will not care;
Faithful he'll stay for the slightest command
And bark with delight at the touch of his hand;
Oh, he owns a treasure which nobody steals,
Who walks down the road with a dog at his heels.

No other can lure him away from his side;
He's proof against riches and station and pride;
Fine dress does not charm him, and flattery's breath
Is lost on the dog, for he's faithful to death;
He sees the great soul which the body conceals--
Oh, it's great to be young with a dog at your heels!

About the Photographer

Istvan Kerekes

In His Own Words

~Istvan Kerekes

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

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

Sunday, November 11, 2012

Let’s Find a Way

Piglet's Song

Let's find a Way today,
that can take us to tomorrow.
We'll follow that Way,
A Way like flowing water.

Let's leave behind,
the things that do not matter.
And we'll turn our lives,
to a more important chapter.

Let's take the time and try to find,
what real life has to offer.
And maybe then we'll find again,
what we had long forgotten.
Like a friend, true 'til the end,
it will help us onward.

The sun is high, the road is wide,
and it starts where we are standing.
No one knows how far it goes,
for the road is never-ending.

It goes away,
beyond what we have thought of.
It flows away,
Away like flowing water.

~ Benjamin Hoff ~

(The Te of Piglet)

About the Photographer

Istvan Kerekes

In His Own Words

~Istvan Kerekes

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

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

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Wherever You Are is Called Here

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+

Saturday, July 21, 2012

It Happens to those that Live Alone

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

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

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

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

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

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

Saturday, June 16, 2012

Eliott

Eliott from Aymeric Ayral on Vimeo.

Saturday, June 9, 2012

The Last Supper

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

Friday, May 25, 2012

Has Anyone Seen the Boy?

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.

Thursday, May 24, 2012

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

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Entrance

Entrance

(After Rilke)

Whoever you are: step out of doors tonight,
Out of the room that lets you feel secure.
Infinity is open to your sight.
Whoever you are.
With eyes that have forgotten how to see
From viewing things already too well-known,
Lift up into the dark a huge, black tree
And put it in the heavens: tall, alone.
And you have made the world and all you see.
It ripens like the words still in your mouth.
And when at last you comprehend its truth,
Then close your eyes and gently set it free.

~ Dana Gioia ~

(Interrogations at Noon)

Poem found at www.panhala.net/Archive/Entrance.html

Sunday, February 26, 2012

What is Supposed to Happen

When you were small,
we watched you sleeping,
waves of breath
filling your chest.

Sometimes we hid behind
the wall of baby, soft cradle
of baby needs.
I loved carrying you between
my own body and the world.

Now you are sharpening pencils,
entering the forest of
lunch boxes, little desks.

People I never saw before
call out your name
and you wave.

This loss I feel,
this shrinking, as your field of roses
grows and grows…

Now I understand history.
Now I understand my mother’s
ancient eyes.

~”What is Supposed to Happen”

by Naomi Shihab Nye

linked to Postcards from Paradise at Recuerda mi Corazon. Please visit rebecca’s blog to see other lovely postcards!

About the Photographer

Istvan Kerekes

In His Own Words

~Istvan Kerekes

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

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

Saturday, February 18, 2012

The One who is Rightfully Yours

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

A Kiss is Still a Kiss…

Young lovers wisely say,

“Let’s try it from this angle,
Maybe something marvelous will happen,

Maybe three suns and two moons
Will roll out
From a hiding place in the body
Our passion has yet to ignite.”

Old lovers say,
“We can do it one more time,
How about from this longitude
And latitude –

Swinging from a rope tied to the ceiling,

Maybe a part of God
Is still hiding in a corner of your heart
Our devotion has yet to reveal.”

Bottom line:

Do not stop playing
These beautiful
Love
Games.

(“The Gift” – versions of Hafiz by Daniel Ladinsky)

About the Photographer

Trey Ratcliff

These snow monkeys are the greatest. I spent a...
... long time with them... It was very cold, and I almost got in this hotspring with them. They are all wild, and they come down from the mountains near Nagano, Japan, for several hours a day to play in the natural hot springs. They gallivant around, have fights, play with their kids, have a bit of sweet carnal monkey fun, check their email, and pose for my camera. These two monkeys spent a lot of time together... they were in maximum "relaxation mode." They lounged around in every possible position and took occasional breaks to do a bit of mutual grooming.

BRIEFLY… A PHOTOGRAPHY-CENTRIC BIO

I’m best known for, well, I suppose, this site, StuckInCustoms.com, which has become the #1 Travel Photography Blog on the internet. On average, the photos get over a million views a week, including a few from my mom. My work first became popular after I had the honor of having the first HDR photo ever to hang in the Smithsonian. After that, I was fortunate enough to be represented by Getty (who I have since dumped because they take 80%), been featured on the BBC, ABC, FOX, CBS, and NBC, and have had numerous showings around the world.

I am known generally for the unique way in which I capture and process the world around me. I have my own “take” on HDR Photography, and you can see my free HDR Tutorial right here. I grew up blind in one eye and this might have changed the way I view the world. I don’t know. It’s hard to be objective about the way one’s brain was wired. My background is in computer science and math, so I bring an algorithm-like process to capturing the scene in such a way that it evokes memories in a palpable manner. Whatever that means.

Trey Ratcliff at http://www.StuckInCustoms.com - all images Creative Commons Noncommercial

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Supple Cord ~ Naomi Shihab Nye

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,