View allAll Photos Tagged NarrativePhotography,
inside the dim hush of the ferry, one figure drifts inward, lost in thought, while another leans into the haze of the city beyond. between them lies a frame of orange steel and quiet water, holding two lives in parallel pause.
ehind the veil of reflections and neon glow, her profile holds the quiet weight of thought. the city blurs into color and light, leaving only her presence, suspended between intimacy and distance.
her stride carries her into the glow, yet her gaze falls not forward but to the trolley waiting alone at the beam’s end. the strip of light becomes a thread, binding traveler and object in a fleeting moment of quiet connection.
taken at the banksy museum in madrid. a child reaching for a balloon just out of reach, mirroring the painted girl who tries to hold on to something already lost. reality and art blend seamlessly, creating a timeless dialogue about innocence, longing, and the things we can’t keep. a silent story of hope and heartache.
valencia. aquarium.
the beluga drifts in slow circles. nowhere to go. nowhere to hide. just small, perfect loops. over and over.
the people stare through glass. through screens. capturing life they barely see.
the beluga moves again. another circle. another round.
The Back Stab isn’t just a photograph of birds. It’s a metaphor — for how even the gentlest forms can carry tension. For how beauty sometimes masks intent. And for how the sharpest wounds don’t always come from enemies — but from those just behind us.
beneath the arcades of palma, silence holds her steady, the glow of the pavement painting a stage for her cigarette pause. the world moves on, but here, in silver and shadow, time lingers.
caught through layered reflections, his glance turns the quiet street into a film still. muted tones and soft light transform the ordinary into a moment heavy with presence and unseen stories.
we didn’t say anything. we just watched. his steps seemed slower than usual, or maybe time stretched in the silence. the glass was cold against the boy’s fingertips, but he didn’t pull away. we measured distance not in meters, but in memory — the way he stood straighter out there, the way our shadows grew longer inside. there’s no drama in a moment like this, just the echo of what’s unsaid. just a window framing everything you didn’t get the chance to say.
created with midjourney.
the alley folds into silence as a single figure slips through a corridor of stone and shadow. the light, like a scalpel, carves space into narrative—unfolding a quiet tension between presence and past. everything is geometry here: of architecture, of belief, of time.
she sat like a shadow stitched to the stone, hands folded over something unspeakable. behind her, a man with a red cap was eating in the half-light. between them, a wall — not of concrete, but silence. the graffiti said "tourist" and "no home", but the stillness said more. this was one of those streets in valencia where light speaks louder than voices.
in the quiet echo of the arched passageways, two figures wander, lost or maybe found in a moment that entwines them with the shadows and stone. their steps, light and almost hesitant, trace the lines of a story laid down by centuries. it’s a simple tale of now meeting then, their pale forms a stark contrast to the deep, enduring walls built long before their whispered words filled these chambers. this scene, a fleeting capture of life’s quiet embraces, resonates with the timelessness of human connections, drawing us into the frame, asking us to listen, to dwell a moment longer in the dance of light and darkness.
A quiet moment at home, where our cat lies watching over the garden wall while my son plays in the background.
Life's most precious scenes often unfold in silence.
in the cool shadows beneath palma de mallorca's majestic cathedral la seu, a couple walks hand in hand through ancient stone archways. the interplay of light and darkness paints their figures in a striking contrast, suggesting an intimacy that invites reflection. how often do we glance at such a scene and assume happiness? yet, appearances can be deceiving, and the delicate balance of emotions within a relationship remains unseen. this moment, frozen in time, questions our perceptions and reminds us of the fragile, unpredictable nature of happiness. it captures not just a walk, but the silent complexities that weave through the fabric of togetherness.
captured in madrid's cuatro torres district, this photograph titled "so small" reflects a moment of urban elegance and personal confidence. the woman strides with purpose, her athletic form contrasted against the modern architectural backdrop. her gesture, perhaps incidental, adds a layer of narrative to the image, inviting viewers to ponder its significance. the clear blue sky and the bright, reflective surfaces contribute to the vibrant yet serene atmosphere, encapsulating the dynamic spirit of city life.
((Etna Protocol – Southern Slope, November 2193)
At dawn, the crater reveals its true form.
What the night kept hidden, the light slowly unveils: a mineral amphitheatre, where matter seems to speak through subtle, barely hinted tones.
That red, that ochre—unexpected chromatic nuances emerge like veins across the dark surface.
A contrast that no longer seems to belong to this world, now silent, abandoned by humankind.
The large boulder in the center appears like an ancient heart—foreign, yet inevitably bound to the landscape.
The wind is still, but something breathes beneath our feet.
The feeling that every step we take is being welcomed, recorded, and perhaps remembered, is palpable.
In these visible layers, we read the volcano’s memory—a silent chronicle of events that predate all human civilization.
Nothing moves, and yet everything feels alive, waiting.
Perhaps time itself, here, has paused to listen.
We’ve decided to stay a little longer.
The probe is active and records almost imperceptible frequencies—testimony of a world that, while seemingly motionless, has never ceased to change.
Something tells us that what we came to find is not far now.
Materia che respira – Frammento IV
(Protocollo Etna – Cratere della Cisterna, Novembre 2193)
All'alba, il cratere si mostra nella sua vera forma. Ciò che la notte custodiva, la luce rivela lentamente: un anfiteatro minerale, dove la materia sembra parlare attraverso tinte sottili, appena accennate. Quel rosso, quell’ocra, sfumature cromatiche inattese, emergono come venature sulla superficie scura. Un contrasto che non sembra appartenere a questo mondo ormai silenzioso, abbandonato dagli uomini.
Il grande masso al centro appare come un cuore antico, estraneo eppure inevitabilmente legato al paesaggio. Il vento tace, ma qualcosa respira sotto i nostri piedi. La sensazione che ogni nostro passo venga accolto, registrato e forse ricordato è palpabile.
In queste stratificazioni visibili leggiamo la memoria del vulcano, una cronaca silenziosa di eventi che precedono ogni civiltà umana. Nulla si muove, eppure ogni cosa sembra viva, in attesa. Forse il tempo stesso, qui, si è fermato per ascoltare.
Abbiamo deciso di restare ancora un po'. La sonda è attiva e registra frequenze quasi impercettibili, testimonianza di un mondo che, pur apparendo immobile, non ha mai smesso di mutare.
Qualcosa ci dice che ciò che dovevamo trovare non è lontano.
"Studying with Kafka". Franz Kafka's famous work "The Metamorphosis" is about a man who wakes to find himself turned into a giant beetle. In it, we consider the power of transformation. We see our own transformation one wrinkle at a time, but what if it happened overnight? Often, it does. Circumstances change, people leave, and if you're like me, you consider your own mortality an alarming amount. Sometimes I feel I change as often as the sun rises.
I'm 34 years old. My hair isn't gray yet. My skin isn't wrinkled. I see myself in three parts, all mingled: the way I was, the way I am, the way I will be. When my life ends, I'll be remembered as the culmination of all those moments. Minute transformations.
In this image: a circle to show the cycle of life. Beetles to represent transformation and mortality. A tulle dress and innocent braids to show the softness of youth. A beautiful portrait set against the grotesque.
two women sit in silence, their shadows as sharp as the mid-day light. one gestures, her finger pointing toward something unseen, while the other listens, her fur catching the sun’s warmth. the bag between them is a silent witness, holding secrets of their conversation. the pavement stretches beyond them, barren and still, while the light dances on their forms, freezing this fleeting moment into timelessness.
Jerusalem marketplace popular with locals and tourists alike. The market of Israel's capital contains more than 250 vendors who sell fresh fruits and vegetables; baked goods; fish, meat and cheeses; nuts, seeds, and spices; wines and liquors; clothing and shoes; and housewares, textiles, and Judaica. And also restaurants and bars offering sometimes haute cuisine food stuff.
Inside the Nachlaot neighborhood. A group of 23 ultra orthodox neighborhoods close to Mahane Yehuda Market. A place where not much has changed since the early 1900's. Here no fast food or hipster bar at every street corner, but synagogues or yeshivas.
We adopted Huey on Aug 17, 2017 when he was around 4-5 years old. He's a 70 pound American Staffordshire Terrier and Coonhound mix. This poor guy had a rough life. His first family abandoned him. The Humane Society found him in the streets with a badly injured hind leg that required surgery and cast. He was likely hit by a car. A couple adopted him shortly after he healed, but unfortunately they were not very compatible. Huey was aggressive with other dogs and had bad leash reactivity. Then came my girlfriend and I. We decided to take a chance because his energy and loving demeanor appeared to be the perfect fit for us. It was challenging for the first month or two, but we managed to rehabilitate him with discipline, exercise, and a lot of love. He's the best boy!
We'll never know what Huey looked like as a cute puppy. We will never know his history and how he was treated during the most important part of his years. He's definitely needy and frequently asks for affection. He follows me everywhere; he's always standing by my side. With those classic puppy dog eyes he always seems to be saying to me, "please don't leave me." He really is an emotional dog. We're trying to build his confidence.
This is the first of what'll be many cinematic style narrative pictures of Huey 'Bubba' Lewis. It'll be another fun activity for all of us to bond over. My girlfriend and I love this little dude!
Strobist Info: Single B800 with Beauty Dish
Inside the Nachlaot neighborhood. A group of 23 ultra orthodox neighborhoods close to Mahane Yehuda Market. A place where not much has changed since the early 1900's. Here no fast food or hipster bar at every street corner, but synagogues or yeshivas.
Jerusalem marketplace popular with locals and tourists alike. The market of Israel's capital contains more than 250 vendors who sell fresh fruits and vegetables; baked goods; fish, meat and cheeses; nuts, seeds, and spices; wines and liquors; clothing and shoes; and housewares, textiles, and Judaica. And also restaurants and bars offering sometimes haute cuisine food stuff.
Jerusalem marketplace popular with locals and tourists alike. The market of Israel's capital contains more than 250 vendors who sell fresh fruits and vegetables; baked goods; fish, meat and cheeses; nuts, seeds, and spices; wines and liquors; clothing and shoes; and housewares, textiles, and Judaica. And also restaurants and bars offering sometimes haute cuisine food stuff.
Jerusalem marketplace popular with locals and tourists alike. The market of Israel's capital contains more than 250 vendors who sell fresh fruits and vegetables; baked goods; fish, meat and cheeses; nuts, seeds, and spices; wines and liquors; clothing and shoes; and housewares, textiles, and Judaica. And also restaurants and bars offering sometimes haute cuisine food stuff.
It was not memory.
It was not presence.
Only a reflection –
the trace of a body
on a wall.
The light was out of time.
Too warm for that suspended world.
A golden intrusion
that lasted less than the shadow.
A presence no longer belonging to what holds it.
A space that lets every trace slip away.
Only a glimmer – and then, nothing.
_________________________
Interferenza
Non fu memoria.
Non fu presenza.
Solo un riflesso –
la traccia di un corpo
su un muro.
La luce era fuori tempo.
Troppo calda per quel mondo sospeso.
Un’intrusione dorata
che durò meno dell’ombra.
Una presenza che non appartiene più a ciò che la contiene.
Uno spazio che lascia scivolare ogni traccia.
Solo un bagliore, e poi il nulla.
Jerusalem marketplace popular with locals and tourists alike. The market of Israel's capital contains more than 250 vendors who sell fresh fruits and vegetables; baked goods; fish, meat and cheeses; nuts, seeds, and spices; wines and liquors; clothing and shoes; and housewares, textiles, and Judaica. And also restaurants and bars offering sometimes haute cuisine food stuff.