View allAll Photos Tagged ChasingLight
Ever since we moved here in Missouri, I always see this Red Old Barn on my way to work. I have been dying to have an intimate moment with it to capture its timeless beauty.
On my way home I know that the time, and light, is right to introduce it to the the world. Grabbed my gears, tucked my wives(camera+Ann) and kids... booommm... perfect...
“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary.
I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms.”
― Henry David Thoreau, Walden: Or, Life in the Woods
Chasing light for 3 days, 600 kms, 7 coastlines, 2 sunrise and 2 sunsets in the most remote locations of bohol. ...got 14.1GB of 14-bit NEF. ..mosquito bites, almost holdup situation. .landscaping at it's best!
Duljo Point, Panglao Island
Sept.19-21, 2009
"We travel because we need to, because distance and difference are the secret tonic of creativity.
When we get home, home is still the same. But something in our mind has been changed, and that changes everything" 🍃💦💚 —Jonah Lehrer, Why We Travel: The San Francisco Panorama (McSweeney’s, scienceblogs.com/cortex/2009/12/10/why-we-travel)
"Let my spirit Fly"
Science World
Telus World of Science
Vancouver, BC
#canon5DsR #Vancouver #LeeNDsoftgradfilter #sunset #freedom #spectacularlights #landscape #chasinglight
sakura (桜) cherry blossom air さくら 🌸🍃
Time after time
Alone in the city of whirling blossoms
Those petals fly in the whirling wind
The miracle of meeting you
In a city where the wind whispered through
The hanamidou tells of the end of spring
One petal from this misty flower.
Time After Time (花舞う街で) // In the Street of Dancing Flowers — Mai Kuraki
[theme song for Detective Conan: Crossroad in the Ancient Capital]
Tumblr: www.challeyoung.tumblr.com
Instagram: www.instagram.com/rosemarieyang
I am also opened for shoots & collabs in Singapore.
Email: chaiandbelle@gmail.com
“Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn.
Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step. There's no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That's the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.
And you really will have to make it through that violent, metaphysical, symbolic storm. No matter how metaphysical or symbolic it might be, make no mistake about it: it will cut through flesh like a thousand razor blades. People will bleed there, and you will bleed too. Hot, red blood. You'll catch that blood in your hands, your own blood and the blood of others.
And once the storm is over you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what this storm's all about.”
― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
“In the morning I bathe my intellect in the stupendous and cosmogonal philosophy of the Bhagavad gita, since whose composition years of the gods have elapsed, and in comparison with which our modern world and its literature seem puny and trivial; and I doubt if that philosophy is not to be referred to a previous state of existence, so remote is its sublimity from our conceptions.
I lay down the book and go to my well for water, and lo! there I meet the servant of the Bramin, priest of Brahma and Vishnu and Indra, who still sits in his temple on the Ganges reading the Vedas, or dwells at the root of a tree with his crust and water jug. I meet his servant come to draw water for his master, and our buckets as it were grate together in the same well. The pure Walden water is mingled with the sacred water of the Ganges.”
― Henry David Thoreau, Walden: Or, Life in the Woods
"It seems like life is speckled with these moments or wakeup calls when you realize again and again that life is short- perspective is everything... knowing that we get to wake up each day and experience LIFE... we get to breathe air and hug our families and hear them laugh. It's all such a gift, a gift that I hope never ever to let go to waste, even for a moment. Love is everything." 💞
Sunset at Rolling Hills
BATANES
June 5, 2011
Timelapse here: vimeo.com/25106333
Email me for more photos of Batanes.
bongbajo@yahoo.com
Feed your hunger for travel, learning, and adventure and recruit others to join you as you broaden your horizons.
A business trip to Ho Chi Minh City in Vietnam made me realized how much I missed shooting travel and streets.
Gearing away from my comfort zone of shooting landscapes, I try to wander the busy streets of Ho Chi Minh.
These are my capture of Ho Chi Minh with side trips at Cu Chi and Mekong Delta.
♫ La Primavera ♫
Allegro
Springtime is upon us.
The birds celebrate her return with festive song,
and murmuring streams are
softly caressed by the breezes.
Thunderstorms, those heralds of Spring, roar,
casting their dark mantle over heaven,
Then they die away to silence,
and the birds take up their charming songs once more.
Largo
On the flower-strewn meadow, with leafy branches
rustling overhead, the goat-herd sleeps,
his faithful dog beside him.
Allegro
Led by the festive sound of rustic bagpipes,
nymphs and shepherds lightly dance
beneath the brilliant canopy of spring.
...
The four concertos [of Vivaldi's The Four Seasons] were written to go along with four sonnets. Though it is not known who wrote these sonnets, there is a theory that Vivaldi wrote them himself, given that each sonnet is broken down into three sections, neatly corresponding to a movement in the concerto.
Whoever wrote the sonnets, The Four Seasons may be classified as program music, instrumental music that intends to evoke something extra-musical.— Excerpted from The Four Seasons (Vivaldi) on Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.
Chasing Light - Long Island Sound near Eatons Neck, New York sunlight reflecting off of the water aerial view - © 2022 David Oppenheimer - Performance Impressions photography archives - performanceimpressions.com