Tuesday, April 29
sharp blurr
I like hazy pictures: the indefinite contours remind me how far from crisp sharp reality can be. Below the material shapes that deflect the thought into swift classification lie subsequent questions about… well… just about everything.
The first blurred picture that filled me with an unexpected excitement was the one with the bride, above. It was simply a ‘mistake’, just like any of my unintentionally unfocused/ shaken previous pictures. But somehow this one managed to break through the labeling surface into some usually unvisited depths.
I reckon though taking good blurry pictures is not that easy. After some experiments today, I assume I nevertheless have to start in the sharpness playground – from its crisp center I could then stroll towards fuzzier boundaries. And perhaps get back to what feels like the ‘right’ blur: sounds a lot like achieving sharpness itself – only in a deeper, less clear-cut layer of reality.
Friday, April 25
Sunday, April 20
care inside
'modernized' hospital: I wonder if things inside managed to gently break apart from the bold impetus and take on a different route...
Saturday, April 12
Sunday, March 23
Monday, March 17
dancing (on a supermarket jingle)
So… I’m taking dancing lessons.
Well, not exactly those I was talking about. Since sometimes there’s a lag between will and action (perhaps it’s not 100% will, even to the degree where it’s entirely something different, that only superficially manifests itself as will – and that’s only one of the many possible explanations), it took me almost a week to tackle the subscription. It was too late: the places had already been filled.
Luckily enough (then perhaps it’s not 100% luck, even to the degree… etc etc), a week or so later, received a message about yet other classes at the same center of contemporary dance, held by a Feldenkrais practitioner.
The start of the lessons is always smooth, the movements are actually less movements, and more intentions. Thus, consubstantial with consciousness, are easier to be aware of. And in an atmosphere where subtle vapors of attention take form only to swiftly vanish, or bashfully waver around, dissolve and recompose, other counterpart and reflex movements become apparent, too: it’s like discovering some levers and mechanisms in the body’s intricate and mostly overlooked system. Gradually, the tiny movements of different body parts assemble into larger ones. And the lesson flows towards what ‘finally’ looks like dancing (on the stereo’s tune – and may feel, if you’re ‘lucky’, like following your inner one).
Very refreshing. Last time I took the camera with me, too: I wanted to photograph around the dressing room – actually a two-room space (plus a toilet) that looks improvised, rough, unfinished, and not because that was the intent, but because it was just that, an improvised space. You can see bricks, concrete walls, pipes and even engines (apparently they’ll soon renovate the theater, hope someone won’t think of making it more ‘appropriate’).
Got there, took a couple of quick pictures before anyone else came in (snapshot in the toilet included); even during the classes managed to grab a couple of times the camera and press the shutter button around for a few times.
Really enjoyed the dancing class. Got out: sunny day there, too. Went to a book fair, got a couple of books, did a photograph, then decided to follow a side street, took photos of rundown buildings and old style store displays, smiled, briefly talked and laughed with ‘strangers’, took more photos… the battery emptied just as I was focusing the lens on a stray dog in a majestic poise under the arch of some historical ruin.
Eventually got home and uploaded the photos. Hmm… again… not that interesting! Then remembered all my previous talk about habits vs. ‘dancing’ with the moment. And all I could see in those pictures were my ‘photographic’ reflexes. Seeing something and just getting it, without too much consideration: just like in a supermarket.
Something though is different underneath it all... I like to do some face-watching when I’m in a supermarket. Rarely seen a smiley look, despite the jolly tunes abundantly pouring out of the loudspeakers. Quite different tunes playing inside people.
Have you ever – literally – danced on an ad jingle, prefferably a supermarket’s? Chances are, the sillier this sounds to you, the merrier you’ll feel. In fact, I promiss you, it’s almost liberating.
...tra la la la laaaa , la la laaaa, tra...
Well, not exactly those I was talking about. Since sometimes there’s a lag between will and action (perhaps it’s not 100% will, even to the degree where it’s entirely something different, that only superficially manifests itself as will – and that’s only one of the many possible explanations), it took me almost a week to tackle the subscription. It was too late: the places had already been filled.
Luckily enough (then perhaps it’s not 100% luck, even to the degree… etc etc), a week or so later, received a message about yet other classes at the same center of contemporary dance, held by a Feldenkrais practitioner.
The start of the lessons is always smooth, the movements are actually less movements, and more intentions. Thus, consubstantial with consciousness, are easier to be aware of. And in an atmosphere where subtle vapors of attention take form only to swiftly vanish, or bashfully waver around, dissolve and recompose, other counterpart and reflex movements become apparent, too: it’s like discovering some levers and mechanisms in the body’s intricate and mostly overlooked system. Gradually, the tiny movements of different body parts assemble into larger ones. And the lesson flows towards what ‘finally’ looks like dancing (on the stereo’s tune – and may feel, if you’re ‘lucky’, like following your inner one).
Very refreshing. Last time I took the camera with me, too: I wanted to photograph around the dressing room – actually a two-room space (plus a toilet) that looks improvised, rough, unfinished, and not because that was the intent, but because it was just that, an improvised space. You can see bricks, concrete walls, pipes and even engines (apparently they’ll soon renovate the theater, hope someone won’t think of making it more ‘appropriate’).
Got there, took a couple of quick pictures before anyone else came in (snapshot in the toilet included); even during the classes managed to grab a couple of times the camera and press the shutter button around for a few times.
Really enjoyed the dancing class. Got out: sunny day there, too. Went to a book fair, got a couple of books, did a photograph, then decided to follow a side street, took photos of rundown buildings and old style store displays, smiled, briefly talked and laughed with ‘strangers’, took more photos… the battery emptied just as I was focusing the lens on a stray dog in a majestic poise under the arch of some historical ruin.
Eventually got home and uploaded the photos. Hmm… again… not that interesting! Then remembered all my previous talk about habits vs. ‘dancing’ with the moment. And all I could see in those pictures were my ‘photographic’ reflexes. Seeing something and just getting it, without too much consideration: just like in a supermarket.
Something though is different underneath it all... I like to do some face-watching when I’m in a supermarket. Rarely seen a smiley look, despite the jolly tunes abundantly pouring out of the loudspeakers. Quite different tunes playing inside people.
Have you ever – literally – danced on an ad jingle, prefferably a supermarket’s? Chances are, the sillier this sounds to you, the merrier you’ll feel. In fact, I promiss you, it’s almost liberating.
...tra la la la laaaa , la la laaaa, tra...
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