She was posing for someone else. I felt a bit jealous that her black silhouette outlined with light was someone elses for the taking. But it doesn’t matter. Only from where I was standing she blended perfectly with the stairs and light, like a shadowless black ghost floating in a surreal scene.
It’s maybe because of how quickly modernization takes over the old ways that we seem to find fascination in the little remains of what once was. One of the things that I loved about Lisbon was how well preserved the old town is, with all the little shops, restaurants, crafts. The young (at least the wealthy ones) have longed moved to modern parts of the city and all that was left is an untouched town that is the same now as it was 50-100 years ago. This little barbershop I found was a good subject, and the old barber insisted that I come in and take photos. So I did. There were not many tourists in that part anyway (thankfully) so it was a joy to watch.
In other news, from now on my photos will have a new source, the canon EOS 5d Mk2 and the replacement lens for the Tamron, the canon 24-105 f4 L. It was about time went fullframe, and the manual HD video mode made the final advantage. I will never ever forget my first dslr, the 300d, the one that showed me how much I like to take photos 🙂
I start the year in Amsterdam. Maybe a sign of what was to come. I come back in Bucharest only to soon find myself in the wreck of what was 10 seconds ago my car. I drive insanely and my insanity almost lost someone’s life, even so I left a friend with a multiple hand fracture. No car insurance, no inspiration to lie to the police that there were no victims. I lose my license, I lose my car and for some reasons in that crash I fell that I lost a lot more than that. From there it’s all s rollercoaster. For a second I lose my sanity, I lose everything. I run away, finding myself each day in a different place. I wake up in a hotel room in Rome; I have no idea how I got there and not even bother to wonder. No plans, no purpose, only trying to fight off my own demons that consume me. I enjoy, I see and admire each of the beautiful things that my road has to offer me. I see old friends, I dig up ghosts of the past, I manipulate and dose my emotions to find the balance that I seek so much. And for the time being, it seems to work. Drugs, 100 GB of photos, 400 kilometers of walking, 10 hours of flight, 5 hours of sleep a night, 2 hours of sleep a day in strange places, thousands of beautiful things seen. Each day a new town, each week a new country, and for now the hotel room is my home. Eventually I come back. Work. I go to Sofia in delegation. I come back. I leave to Portugal. I come back but in 7 days I’m back in Barcelona.
I never really believed in him. I heard a lot of stories from Barcelona about him, but never really seen him. I started to believe he was just a myth, a modern Yeti, a figment of some very disturbed people imaginations. But then one day there he was, right in front of me. The world stood still and as he walked in the middle of the crowd. Faces froze with fear and amazement as he made his way through the streets in broad daylight.
…Europe’s final meters of land. Right there in the first photo, I’m standing above them, in the westernmost place, Cabo da Roca, Portugal. It kind of feels strange being there where the old continent ends
And not far from there but far from the tourist’s track is praia da ursa, one of the most beautiful places in all Portugal and also one of the most inaccessible. Google earth tourism seems fun until you find out just how difficult it is to get to a certain point that looked good on a photo. And praia da ursa is one of those places. On the old road that leads there there’s a sign that said “danger, unsecured beach. For emergency call 112”. But the fact is there is no signal down there, is standing below a few hundred meters of rock, very hard to climb. In fact the beach is mostly deserted, in the middle of the season the only people there were a couple having innocent, beautiful sex. And no, I’m not showing you the photos 😀 .
and sometimes there are these moments between night and day when the city becomes one of the most surreal and beautiful image one can imagine..
Barcelona
I usually don’t write about something else than photography, but this time I feel is somehow my duty. As you know I work in the gaming industry. As an industry, it has little margin for something that is unsure to sell, something experimental, something more art oriented rather than existing bad recipes. So basically “the industry” only manufactures the same existing games over and over, with the same compromises made for accessibility and mass-market, the same action packed brainless, soulless, kitschy pieces of shit. Of course there are exceptions even in the high budget area with some developers taking huge risks to push onto the market games that have potential not to sell. Sometimes they make it, most of the time they don’t. And it’s a real pity since gaming platforms have the potential to push art to a new evolutionary step through interactivity, where the viewer becomes a part of the art piece. And that can be the one and only final step in modern arts, it cannot go beyond total immersion, it can only evolve around this idea along with technological evolution.
I think I’m going to switch to English from now on, no point in having half the visitors from outside the country and not understand one word. Besides, this may keep my parents from reading something perhaps compromising 🙂 . Comments are welcomed in any language.
Anyway, some photos from Rome. Rome was the first of the 3 major cities I stayed in last month (a lot of other small ones). In my opinion it’s not the nicest place on earth (good for photos nevertheless), however it has some stunning nearby towns that you won’t find anywhere else.
The color photos in another post.
Da, stiu, sunt un pervers 🙂 . Stau cu teleobiectivul la distanta si imi bag nasul in intimitatea publica a oamenilor… de sex feminin .
Lasand gluma la o parte, frantuzoaicele sunt foarte, foarte frumoase. Cam toate. Si pe langa frumusetea naturala au si o eleganta deosebita in feul in care se imbraca si se poarta.
Scuzati faptul ca multe dintre poze sunt oblice, “inclin” sa cred ca pe moment mi s-a parut ca ajuta la incadrare, dau mai mult dinamism fotografiei. Ceea ce poate e adevarat, dar puse una langa alta tind sa devina plictisitoare. Dar asta judecati si voi.
Sa lasam deoparte peisaje pe care le-am tot postat, lasand o clipa loc dof-ului ingus, iso-ului mare si a oamenilor. Deci, va prezint doi prieteni, o pisica, Barcelona. ( Thanks for all, guys ! )
ps: cica in ultima poza as fi eu, la cererea publicului. Dar nu m-as crede pe cuvant.
pps: autorii acestui site va reamintesc ca nu incurajeaza fumatul de orice natura, si acesta este extrem de daunator sanatatii.
Sunt la Paris. Sau ma rog, eram pana acum cateva ore. Sau inca sunt, dar doar cu mintea. En fin.
Sunt la Paris, facand ceea ce fac eu de obicei, ma plimb pe strazi imortalizand clipe. Daca e ceva ce am invatat in ziua asta e sa nu subestimez niciodata puterea unor cuvinte. Vorbesc la telefon cu un amic, ii povestesc cam cum e pe la Paris, cum in ciuda a ceea ce vad pe la televizor, nimic deosebit nu se intampla. Ei bine nu trece o ora si se intampla. In fata statiei de metrou de langa Louvre vad 2 barbati ca se cearta, unul alb si altul de culoare. Initial am crezut ca e doar o incaierare oarecare asa ca primul gand a fost sa fac ceea ce orice cetatean cu simt civic ar face: sa scot aparatul foto. Insa foarte rapid lucrurile evolueaza intr-o chestie mai serioasa, si barbatul alb scoate o pereche de catuse si incearca sa i le puna celuilalt, care opune rezistenta. Deja dupa catuse si echipamentul ce se vedea pe sub vesta am tras concluzia ca e vorba de un politist sub acoperire. Cativa pumni, suspectul tot incearca sa scape, politistul scapa catusele si il tranteste pe suspect la pamant, tinandu-l cu disperare de tricou in timp ce acesta se zbate disperat sa scape. Politistul striga ceva ce peare a fi o chemare de ajutoare, dar lumea din jur se da deoparte. Il intreb, deloc nelinistit, daca e politist:
-police ?
-yes, police. help !
Stau cateva secunde, ezit, in cele din urma mai mult de forma incerc sa il ajut si eu tinandu-l pe suspect ca sa ii poata pune catusele. Cu ocazia asta incasez si un picior in fata, suspectul scapa. Am apucat cateva secunde sa ii vad privirea, cea mai recunoscatoare privire pe care am vazut-o vreodata. Apoi ma intorc si ma uit la politist, plin de sange si suparat ca a esuat misiunea. Si imi dau seama ca tot circul asta probabil nu era pentru altceva decat pentru cateva grame de iarba. Am vrut sa il intreb pe politist daca merita sa isi riste viata pentru atata lucru, dar renunt. Ma uit in jur, o gramada de lume de culoare care arunca priviri urate politistului, si simtindu-ma vizat, ma retrag rapid la metrou si fug acasa. Da , nu se intampla nimic interesant la Paris.
