A Pictures Worth

Force be with you

Sun, 07 Dec 2008 20:22 +1100

He appeared in our lives – one day – and then was gone – one day. My son took this picture with his SQ907B EZ-Cam at the last possible moment before he moved out of this type of position. Many months later we downloaded the images from his camera and upon looking at this particular image my son says, “He is doing the force”. My son likes Star Wars.

He does have a force; a force of immense creativity. The creativity flows from him in large waves of amazing realization. The type of outlet he chooses to use is marketable. He has many excuses; the world has not found him yet because he has to have everything just perfect. Can’t the force give him that? Can’t he use this force to his advantage, apparently not? He is a creative being, the output has happened, we’ve seen it – we’ve experienced it. He rode his bike into the party with a costume on and created a scene that many of the children will never forget. He has created images on paper that are worth looking at again and again. He single-handedly held us up with his force for months on end. Even in the food he created for us to eat.

He appears as an artist and then – one day – he is gone. He appears as a musician and then – one day – he is gone. He appears as a performer – one day – he is gone. He appears over and over again – but he is always gone. But he will always be here as his force is strong – we can feel him around us, in the paintings we hang on our walls, in the sculpture we have sitting on our shelves, in the illustrations we have framed on our refrigerator, in the video images of his performances we look over again and again. He is here but he is gone.

New Life

Fri, 07 Nov 2008 22:13 +1100

It was the beginning of a new life. I knew it was not going to be an easy start. I was looking forward to make my dreams come true. It was hard, and it is still hard, so hard that I just keep thinking; why am I doing this? What is the point of doing this? Why do I even bother to do this?

So... this is me.. Living in the present dealing with reality. I grew up and I was raised in Colombia, a beautiful country, with awesome people, and a beautiful nature, blah blah, blah!. My parents got divorced when I was 12 years old, my mom, my sister and I traveled to U.S looking for a “better future“. I came to NYC when I was 13 years old, I had passed through hard times such as discrimination, learning a new language, being in a country where nobody was going to give you support and basically being alone in a huge country such as the U.S.

Now I am 17 years old, I am in high school and I just noticed that being here makes me feel depressed. Everything is so fake, so plastic, so meaningless. Everybody living a daily routine. It is a basic daily system, you wake up, you go to school, you come back home, you sleep, you wake up, you go to school, blah blah blah!!!… there is not a difference between living in Colombia than living here! There is poverty here, poverty there, there is injustice here, there’s injustice there as well.

Behind everything, my background, my fears, my sadness, the only things that make me strong and make me want to continue fighting for what I want are my dreams and hopes. I want to break the routine, break the rules, I want to be me, I want to give a different point of view, I want to convince people that there is more than just a written destiny. You are who you are, you write your own destiny, you follow your own path and make your own goals and dreams. I’ll have to say that art is my way of doing it. It inspires me, it lets me express without limits, it makes me put effort into what I want, it gives me a reason to have a different opinion about something that matters. Keep dreaming, not only because it is a way of setting things free but because it gives you courage to keep fighting for what you want. At the end nothing matters if you got what you wanted, what you were looking for!… “the end justifies the means“.

Small Moments

Fri, 07 Nov 2008 22:05 +1100

This photograph always makes me wonder the number of small moments we might have missed in life in persuasion of a bigger picture. I shot this frame at Aksa beach, Mumbai, India. This beach has always been a personal favorite, the place where I have spent many soulful mornings and peaceful evenings. The wide expanse of the sea is very alluring, bringing out the child within you. During one of the visits, I caught upon this lovely couple. They looked like they were newly married; the lady was sporting the traditional symbols of a newly wed. Both of them were well dressed and did not give the feel that they had come down to visit the beach specifically.

The lovely young lady was so thrilled at the sight of the water; she quickly dropped her sandals and sprinted towards the water not worried about ruining her beautiful sari traditional Indian attire). The young man however was so untouched by the sight that he just stood by the shore watching her frolic. She came back several times to convince him to come into the water but in vain. He just stood there looking all bored, his gestures made me realize that his reluctance was due to the expensive shoes he was wearing. He refused to take off the shoes just to enjoy the water.

Her excitement of feeling the water and the constant turning back to request the bored husband to join in made me wonder whether we even realize that these small moments make such beautiful memories. Will he miss those moments of being with his wife enjoying what she enjoyed the most then? How many such moments in life are wasted in vain thinking, caring for things which are probably valuable but at the same time miss out on the priceless emotional moments?

My Girls

Sun, 19 Oct 2008 19:27 +1100

It was an awkward beginning...We met in 1997 in the musty old halls of Kings College Old Residence at The University of Western Ontario. Unfamiliar with our surroundings we quickly bonded over the fact that we were all away from home and on our own for the very first time. Looking for a friendly face to share the nervous feelings of our first year as freshman in University we stuck together like glue. Two of us were city girls and the other three were from little towns just outside of the city. Birthdays, road trips, holiday celebrations were shared and celebrated together especially when those special occasions were during exam periods or in the middle of a school week. My girls...we never missed each others big events throughout our entire university chapter of life.

Although we stayed in touch throughout those years,each one of us were heading towards different paths in education and soon after graduation we all differed in careers. One of us moved out to the States to pursue a business, another up to Ottawa to become a lawyer. Two of us immediately moved out of the city to pursue teaching careers while another moved back to her hometown to continue a post graduate certification. I too went my own way...deciding to work at the University for a few more years before moving to Australia for two years to continue a post graduate degree and ending up travelling g other 3 years teaching in Asia.

Time continued to pass us...our holidays, birthdays and other big events slowly dwindled from a phone call or card in the mail to a quick generic e-mail to all of us or a forward just to say 'hey'.

Then after a few 'I wonder how ______is doing' phone calls amongst a few of us made us all wonder what everyone was up to. A card was shortly recieved in the mail. It was an invitation to have a girls weekend up at a bed and breakfast in Orillia...just us girls...no significant others and certainly no worries about work. We all quickly RSVP'd and the reunion weekend soon approached.
It had been almost a decade since we had all reunited together. One would think that it would have been awkward (and I must say it was for the first few minutes) but we slowly realized that nothing had changed except the paths we chose in life...we laughed and carried on as if there wasn't even a care in the world that weekend.

Our last day together was somber...the sun was just about to set and we were all sitting out on the dock just taking our last day in moment by moment...capturing every word spoken, holding on to every laugh we shared.

This picture was the last photo we took that evening...one that represents the unity of our friendship and how strong our bond is even after a decade. We have all been quite busy these last few years but the memories we shared that weekend have surely encouraged us to make an effort to make our reunions annual.

Precious

Fri, 11 Jan 2008 14:31 +1100

This cat with the turquoise eyes belongs to my younger sister. In the early days of living with my family, she was dressed in doll clothes, placed in cabinets and drawers, and accidentally dropped more than once. Through it all, Precious endured patiently, and quickly became my sister's constant companion. As years passed, their adventures together gradually changed from playing dress-up to cozying up on the couch with a good book.

Their care for each other is evident. When we return from vacation, Susan jumps out of the car at the bottom of the driveway and races to the top to find her favorite cat. When Susan enters the room, precious begins to purr loudly and lazily rolls over on her back to have her stomach scratched by
her best friend. The gifts of dead mice and birds left on our back steps also indicate the affection Precious has for Susan.

When we acquired an adorable new kitten a few years ago, Precious was instantly jealous, and even aggressive toward the new addition to the family. A test of her friendship with Susan, however, proved that she had nothing to worry about.

After noticing that Precious had lost a significant amount of weight and had been particularly sluggish, Susan took her to the veterinarian's office. The doctor had some grave news: Precious had a form of diabetes that, without daily shots of insulin, could kill her. My squeamish sister rolled up her shirt sleeves and immediately agreed to learn how to shoot a needle into the scruff of Precious' neck. Since that time, she has faithfully given Precious a shot every morning and every evening. Precious has regained her weight and her energy, and still goes everywhere with Susan.

Albert Schweitzer has said, "There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life: music and cats." Susan has found this to be true. Not only is she a gifted pianist and guitarist, but she has Precious, the cat with the turquoise eyes.

Amanda

Sun, 04 Nov 2007 13:06 +1100

Hurricane on the Bayou quickly became my son's favorite IMAX film of all times for three reasons: 1) he loves nature, 2) music stirs his soul and there was plenty of it throughout the film, and 3) Amanda Shaw -- the darling girl who played fiddle and shared her love of Louisiana with viewers.

There was no knowing, when we saw the film, that we'd soon have the opportunity to meet Amanda. As soon as I discovered she'd be in town (at an event we'd already be attending), I put all my energy into giving my son the chance to meet this young lady. Once I told him she'd be in town, he stated over and over and over again how much he wanted to meet her. I didn't say a word. On pins and needles for weeks, he became more nervous the closer it got to the big day.

"Do you think I'll be able to say hello to her, Mom?" he asked repeatedly.

"Maybe," I said. "We'll have to see." He still had no clue what I'd been planning.

The day before the big event, my son searched for a little stuffed animal to give her. He chose an alligator. It made sense because she sang "The Gator Song" in the movie and well, my son had also made her a card in the shape of a gator. On the day of her performance, he asked to stop at the store so he could pick out flowers for her. My little boy was turning into a big time Romeo, it seemed. I reminded him that she was six years older and maybe we wouldn't get a chance to even talk to her, but he was undeterred. "If I could, I'd ask her to have dinner with us!" he declared. I had to smile at his gutsy first display of...not exactly manly, but definitely not boyish...ardor.

On stage, Amanda played her fiddle with energy and style. My son waited nervously for his chance to "maybe" meet her. A few minutes before the end of the set, the woman responsible for Amanda's appearance at this event came over and asked us to follow her, my son clueless. Suddenly, "THE AMANDA SHAW!!" as my boy called her, was in front of us. And before the entire thing was over, she'd hugged my kid several times, leaving him tongue-tied and grinning from ear to ear.

I know I won't always be able to give my son the special things he wants, but for once, I managed to make a dream come true for him. I look at this image and see how happy he was and am filled with a certain sort of motherly pride and dread. You see, I'm thrilled at seeing him realize dreams, but hate the thought of the disappointments that he'll inevitably encounter during his lifetime. I rationalize that this is the way life is and I can only encourage him to pursue his dreams regardless of the outcome, help him whenever possible, and pray that for the times he falls short of whatever his goal that he remembers his "Amanda" moment and keep on reaching for the stars.

My Home Town!

Sun, 06 May 2007 19:55 +1100

Sydney, Australia. My home town.

Many times I have flown into Sydney on a large plane and always, whether returning home from overseas or intrastate, I fall in love with my home town all over again.

Recently I had the opportunity to fly over Sydney in a small plane, taking off from Bankstown airport, heading over Hornsby to Palm Beach and Manly, over the Heads and the Harbour, before returning to Bankstown the same way. A wonderful and breathtaking 90 minutes!

Sydney - my home town!

Home

Mon, 09 Apr 2007 22:56 +1100

This picture was taken from my fire escape. It is one of the photos I took as a representation of home. This home being Sackville, New Brunswick, Canada where I go to university. It's the town my mom grew up in. Essentially, it's the town I grew up in, too. Though I wasn't born or raised in Sackville, I have spent the past four years here collecting enough knowledge to earn me a diploma. As I'm about to graduate and move away from this great little town, I find the least significant things becoming important to remember. These are the stairs my roommates and I rush down each morning on our way to class. They're the stairs that used to be guarded by the building next door which burnt down in August. They're the stairs that are meant to save our lives in the case of a fire... yet they're made of wood. They're the stairs where I get to see the neighbors' grey cat sitting in the window. They're the stairs I can get the best view in the whole town from. They're probably even the highest stairs there is in Sackville.Despite my BA, I learnt more about life in this small bubble of a town than anywhere before. Now seeing the world through an anthropologist's eye, I can tell you that there is a strong environmental influence on each and every one of us that I would not have recognized before. Sackville has taught us to smile and say hi to the stranger walking on the street. It has taught us to stop worrying about the paper that's due tomorrow and take in what's left of our time in the town and at the university. It has taught us that knowledge is indeed power, but personal relationships are what facilitate knowledge. It is the town where 2000 odd students grow each year.

Missouri Sunset

Wed, 04 Apr 2007 22:25 +1100

We cross the river several times a week, heading from Nebraska into Iowa and back again. It's a common drive for most of us in the area.I always have my camera ready to snap some shots as we head back to Nebraska. It's often at sunset. I have hundreds of such shots -- spring, summer, autumn, and winter. I have a few early in the day, and some late at night. There is ice on the river in some, and the summer boats flying along the water in others.Barge traffic stops about half a mile below this bridge, so there's never anything larger than a good sized personal boat out there. Sometimes there are even rafts.This river has flooded the area far too many times, even after the dredging and other controls were put into place. It's not as wild as it was fifty years ago, but we still watch the waterline (quite high this year because a tributary is flooding just a few miles away) and make note of high and low levels.But I watch for other things -- the clouds on the horizon, the setting sun and the occasional flights of birds drifting over the water in ways that are unchanged for several hundred years, despite what those of us on the land around the river have done.In a picture like this, though, you can barely see the mark of man along the edges, blurred out by the coming of night. Instead, for a few brief moments heading over the river, you can imagine what it might have been like before the cities grew up along the river edges and the barges and steamboats plowed up and down stream, bringing more and more civilization to the area.The land has changed. Even the river has changed... but the sun still sets over the edge of the water, and birds still float along the rising thermals to nest in the trees along the river's edge.And crossing the bridge at sunset, for a brief fleeting moment, we can see the past.

One for the road

Tue, 27 Mar 2007 22:22 +1100

New Zealand has the reputation of being one of the most beautiful countries in the world. I'm one of the lucky 4 million or so who live here. During January of this year, 2007, I spent a glorious three weeks on holiday, mostly down the South Island. I normally reside in the small city of New Plymouth, which is about halfway up the west coast of the North Island, however I really do love the south very much.The most common and popular way to cross the Cook Strait, between the two main islands, is via one of a handful of ferries. These travel each way several times a day, weather permitting. One way takes about three hours, depending on the ferry, though it's not something many people would want to hurry! In fact, this would have to be one of my personal favourite experiences. On this last trip down I was treated to the most beautiful sunset journey through the Marlborough Sounds, though sadly I didn't have my camera handy. On the trip back I couldn't have wanted for a more glorious summers day, and this time I did have my camera. Trust me when I tell you that the scenery is breathtaking! Sometimes passengers are also treated to an experience of dolphins swimming alongside the boat. (On occasion, however, due to bad weather, the passage can be a little unsettling, to say the least. This may result in the loss of all stomach content, and/or a lie-down all the way! It's a good job that the ferries supply 'sick bags'.)Luckily for me, both the trip over, as well as the trip back were glorious. Not even a tipple of wine could unsettle me. Just a pity that the company in the photo weren't up to partying!