this is the charm…. click it!
…
•November 15, 2009 • Leave a Comment
All that city. You just couldn’t see the end to it. The end. Please. You please
just show me where it ends…
It was all very fine on that gangway. And I was grand too, in my overcoat. I
cut quite a figure.
And I was getting off. Guaranteed. There was no problem.
It wasn’t what I saw that stopped me, Max. It was what I didn’t see. You
understand that… What I didn’t see. In all that sprawling city there was
everything except an end. There was no end. What I did not see was where
the whole thing came to an end. The end of the world…
Take a piano. The keys begin, the keys end. You know there are eighty-eight
of them, nobody can tell you any different. They are not infinite. You are
infinite. And on these keys the music that you can make is infinite. I like that. That I can live by.
You get me up on that gangway and you’re rolling out in front of me a keyboard of millions of keys, millions and billions
of keys that never end, and that’s the truth, Max. That they never end. That keyboard is infinite. And if that keyboard is
infinite, then on that keyboard there is no music you can play. You’re sitting on the wrong bench. That’s God’s piano.
Christ! Did, did you see the streets Just the streets… There were thousands of them! And how do you do it down there
How do you choose just one One woman, one house, one piece of land to call your own, one landscape to look at, one
way to die…
All that world is weighing down on me, you don’t even know where it comes to an end, and aren’t you ever just scared
of breaking apart at the thought of it The enormity of living it.
I was born on this ship, and the world passed me by, but two thousand people at a time. And there were wishes here,
but never more than fit between prow and stern. You played out your happiness,but on a piano that was not infinite. I
learned to live that way.
Land Land is a ship too big for me. It’s a woman too beautiful; it’s a voyage too long, a perfume too strong. It’s a music I
don’t know how to make. I could never get off this ship. At best, I can step off my life. After all, I don’t exist for anyone.
You’re an exception, Max, you’re the only one who knows I’m here. You’re a minority, and you better get used to it.
Forgive me, my friend, but I’m not getting off.
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper
——T·S·Eliot
Kristi Bogel
•November 14, 2009 • Leave a Comment
Hazardous, daring, scandalous, wicked, perilously straightforward. Kristi’s photos punch you in the face and most of the time… you love it.
There is a dark side to anything. Kristi knows that. She doesn’t hesitate to demonstrate it. No wonder her nickname is Edge…
You can’t but love her risky photos.
Enjoy the smacks on your brain here.
Thanks for the exclusive interview, Kristi!
Who, what inspires you mostly?
“From my emotions to what happens that day, or what has happened that week inspire me. You just feel this jolt of fire surge into you and you think, ‘I just have to show this off!’”
Which theme(s) you consider your favorite (s)?
“I am interested in many subjects. I mostly have self-portraits in my collection. I enjoy capturing pure emotion. I love how expressive the human face can be.”
When, how did your love of photography develop?
“I had my first point and shoot Kodak in 2005. I could not put it down. I just remember I had so many ideas all at once. Even before then, I took so many pictures, I wanted (and still want to) remember everything. I have photo albums filled to the brim with images.”
Do you listen to certain kind of music while photographing?
“Incubus and Dean Martin are my partners in crime.”
What is your goal/dream?
“I want to be this widely famous photographer and I want to see the world and met people. I want to be know for unsetteling images and photos that make one feel uneasy. Being known for a famous shot of some flowers would be insulting. There are so many people who are one hundred times better than me. I have a hallong way to go.”
If you had to take only one last photograph for the whole humanity, what would it be (describe)?
“I would take something gritty, dirty, decaying. I would want the tones to be dark but have there be lots of textures. It would have to make one’s stomach turn and make them think and really feel something.”
Is there a certain message you want to deliver through your shots?
“I want to show raw emotion and familiarity, I want to show creativity and technique. If people can feel something when they look at any one of my images, then I have done what I have wanted to do.”
What other interests do you have besides photography?
“I love travel. I have not been many places but I would love to experience new cultures. I am very interested in Animal Behavior and how the brain functions as well.”
Are there some films, artists, composers, songs that you especially like? And do they reflect in your shots?
“I would say that there have been songs that an image of mine has reflected a few times. Off the top of my head, I cannot think of anything in particular.”
If you got an offer to exhibit your photos in an individual art/photo exhibition what name would you give to the exhibition? (or if you already have one) And why?
“That is something I would really have to think about. It would depend on the images in the exhibit, of course. I would assume knowing me, it would be a simple name, but one that makes an impact.”
A photo from your collection that you like mostly and would like to point out. And why that certain one?
“If I pointed out any picture, it would have to be “fuckart.” I have had so many responses on this image that it is crazy. My inbox has been filled with love and hate mail about it… that’s why I like it so much.” Here is a link to the image, not sure if you needed it: http://www.flickr.com/photos/kristibogelphotography/2397831027/sizes/m/
An ordinary miracle* by Paruyr Sevak
•November 13, 2009 • Leave a Comment
We met…
And what happened? Can you comprehend?
As though life swiftly took a bath
After long playing like a dirty child.
The air that was covered with a murky mist
Uncovered itself
Turning into rain,
Turning into snow,
And we suddenly could taste the air again
So flavorsome, existent
That… you simply wouldn’t want to eat anymore…
We met…
And what happened? Can you comprehend?
As a gift from life to a chosen two
To the sense of loyalty
Tenderness affixed with a double force
Resulting in…an immortal love,
Like water that has no demise
When the hydrogen rams into oxygen with a double force…
We met….
And the poetry barricade
Utterly collapsed…
Science dissolved in your wet eyes of love
Your feet left their marks on history’s face
The wave of your hand demolished air, rebuilt it again
Enriching geometry with new laws
For one lucky discerner
We met…
And all of the “but”s went into deep sleep
So that laughter, suddenly awake,
Would jump up with might
Tempest dauntingly
Trying in some way to shatter, erase
All the rigid layers of the sky.
And on the erased spot of atmospheres
Upside-down fountains of insane joy would hang
That can open up and never close down.
We met…
And we met
In a very simple, ordinary way
So that miracles could themselves become
Very simple, ordinary things…
translated by Ani Bogh © All rights reserved.
Day 17: And she fights for her life as she puts on her coat…
•November 12, 2009 • 5 Comments
Dear Bile,
I’m sorry that you drowned at sea… I hope it’s warm in the Irish waters.
Today I went to Yerevan to search for an apartment. As I was walking around I saw old ladies with gray umbrellas, funny puppies in the gutter, lonely musicians at street corners and thought to myself… I wish I could catch all those seconds of my walks around the city…
So I decided to to buy a camera, one of those old ones that only does black and white pictures. I will start photographing strangers in the street, but only if they don’t notice. If they do, then I will tear those photographs and make it snow on everyones’ heads….
The November in Yerevan is not actually sweet, more of amber-like.
I haven’t found an apartment yet but don’t worry, I’m searching. I think it will be something very old.
I am also looking for a job. I’m thinking of working at a perfume shop. I love smells and especially characterizing smells. I love advising people the smell for their soul… I don’t think they understand the importance of that.
I have been carrying my cello around the city with me, and everyone was staring… I think they’ve never seen a cello case before. Or maybe they think it’s too heavy for me. Or maybe even because they have great respect for musicians… but hardly, no one was paying to that lonely violinist on Abovyan street. He was playing such a sad tune… the only applause he got was from the coins.
Zring-zring….
***
•November 12, 2009 • Leave a Comment
Tonight I want to write about
Geneva streets, its fog and dust
The way it’s wet
The music of the walks
The slight drunk serenades to moon
And strangers who smile “Bonsoir”.
©Ani Bogh. All Rights Reserved.
Mônica Fadul
•November 12, 2009 • Leave a Comment
My name is Mônica Fadul (but you can call me Nika), and I’m 20 years old. I’m a student of Biomedical Engineering in Brazil, but photography is my biggest passion. It’s the way I found to show my world to the world. Welcome!
And I hope you like it! Click here, or here, or here, OR here
Life in a happy-go-lucky way, the colorful way, the fairy tale way, the rock roll way, the Nika way… truly a world of the sun, Led Zeppelin, Beatles, Coldplay, Pink Floyd, U2. Life, dancing, fun, laughter… easy and great.
Almost all of the photos of Nika bare the names of different songs. I was as though skimming through the best radio stations while looking at her shots. All I needed was a tall lemonade with ice and a Brazil sun.
You will also love Nika’s fairy tale mood. Her flying, her magic, her sparkly smile. I was there and I loved that world…
Who, what inspires you mostly?
I think music is my muse, and photography is the way I express what I feel when I hear it.
Which theme(s) you consider your favorite (s)?
I love to mix fantasy with common situations and crazy thoughts. It’s the way my brain works.
When, how did your love of photography develop?
I think it was about 2 years ago, when I was eighteen that it really starts to make some difference, but I was addicted to photography since I was fifteen.
Do you listen to certain kind of music while photographing?
Not while I am photographing, but when I’m editing or thinking about a concept, almost all the time, music is around me.
What is your goal/dream?
I don’t know how far it’ll go, but my great pleasure in photography is to show the world I see through my eyes. So that’s my goal, till the end!
If you had to take only one last photograph for the whole humanity, what would it be (describe)?
I think that’s a question that I could only answer at that moment, because I really don’t know what would be the feeling in a situation like this one!
Is there a certain message you want to deliver through your shots?
People are so convinced that magic and fantasy are unreal, that I love to show that the simple moments of our lives are full of magic.
What other interests do you have besides photography?
Well, I am a totally music freak, rock is my passion, but I don’t have talent at all in this area!
Are there some films, artists, composers, songs that you especially like? And do they reflect in your shots?
Oh yes! And it’s a huge list! And it all reflects in my shots. The Beatles, Queen, Pink Floyd, Yes, Coldplay, U2, Super tramp, etc. There’s a song, by Jimi Hendrix, called Little Wing, I think it’s THE SONG, and of course there’s a lot more! About films, all the ones that is colorful, crazy and magic!
If you got an offer to exhibit your photos in an individual art/photo exhibition what name would you give to the exhibition? And why?
I don’t know… maybe “Precious Illusions”. I always like to mix music and photography, and I love the title of this song, and it is what the most of my photos shows! My first exhibit was called “The Magical Mystery Tour”!
My favorite photo of the day…
www.flickr.com/photos/nika_fadul/3265973329/in/set-72157602252350747/
Also! click the following!!!
Sky.
•November 11, 2009 • Leave a Comment
Dear Marijn,
Today I decided to start writing the truth.
All the writings that were before this were a lie… Ani doesn’t exist. I made her up. I guess she even succeeded in becoming my alter ego… No, Ani is actually this boring, uninteresting girl who lives in my brain. I was locked in my mother’s closet, no one could hear me pound and scream… I had nothing to do. So, I created Ani in my brain. Then I guess she came to life, because she even claims this to be her blog and she even opened a Facebook account… Can you imagine?!?
Well, I’m finally out of the closet and I’m starting a new life. I am moving out… haha, tomorrow I am going to look for an apartment in Yerevan.
Yeah, I know it’s a “bad” thing if a girl my age lives in an separate apartment “alone” here in this taboo-stricken-crazy Armenia… but, I don’t give a damn.
Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow…
How is it in Germany, by the way? I guess you don’t have these taboos and crazy traditional ideas that we do, ha?
But you know… don’t judge me or us, I love Armenia. I love this crazy place.
Miss Curious waiting for Mr. Unpredictable
•November 10, 2009 • Leave a Comment
old work…
Pastels on paper
“Something worth Fighting for” by Berdros Afeyan
•November 10, 2009 • Leave a Comment
Integrity, sanctity of meaning, purity of feeling, awesome respect for the planet, the solar system, the galaxy, the intergalactic dust, the galactic clusters, dark matter, black holes, blackboards where are these “what if?”’s get hatched, the simplified models that show us the scaling laws, the computer simulations that reinforce and amend our flaws, the constant search and research and experimentation and divide and conquer schemes, our devotion, our resolve. Mathematics meet nature, nature to behold.
And then the imaginary axis of art and fantasy, abstract beauty, harmony, music of the spheres, music for our lips and ears, and eye candy, color explosions and color smeared into our skin, till our eyes roll around in the fall colors of leaves that dream of summer once again and leave our whispers be carried to our lovers’ ears through thick and thin.
I think those are things worth fighting for.
by Bedros Afeyan
