View allAll Photos Tagged VisualStorytelling
the path climbs, half in light, half in shadow. the walls, worn by time, lead the way to something unseen, a moment beyond the frame. a figure stands at the crest, burdened or weightless—it's impossible to tell. the light decides, the darkness confirms.
shadows stretch like silent witnesses, consuming the ground, swallowing details, leaving only patterns of what was. the silence here is deafening, the geometry precise. in this place, the world feels measured, but the future remains uncertain.
cast against the wall in morning light, she walks — quiet, unseen, carrying presence in absence. the shape of a mother, a stroller, a gesture. nothing more. and everything.
I love travelling on the train past this iconic site. I was born and grew up in London and spent so many summer evenings walking passed the Battersea Power Station to get to Battersea Park.
Great to hear that London Transport have extended the Northern Line with two new stations Battersea Power Station and Nine Elms which opened on the 20th September. Top of my list of places to go and photograph.
she was focused on her phone, fingers moving across the screen. then she looked up. just for a second. a glance, sharp and unreadable. raindrops clung to her umbrella, the city moved around her. but in that moment, it was just her and the camera.
"When we were tiny little chicks, my sister and I always ate same foods. Sometimes we foraged ourselves (trying to be like mom and dad) and thought we knew what we were doing... only to end up chewing on dry leaves! They were not very tasty, but we ate them anyways. I enjoyed nibbling on pretty much anything by myself from the start but my sister liked to be waited on, can you imagine that???
Our parents searched for food from sunrise to sunset, digging into the ground to find us yummy worms and bugs. Just wait and see what a little gosling needs to eat to grow up as strong and handsome as me!"
- The Gosling ❤️-
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.
a street portrait of josé maría almoguera. we were coming from the banksy museum when we saw a man being photographed, a camera crew around him. i asked him what he did. i didn’t recognize him. he said he’s on tv sometimes. then i asked if i could take his portrait. he nodded right away. i still don’t really know what he does. but he was kind.
Contractors have begun to clear the rubble, weeds and new grown trees from behind the fences in preparation for restoration on 41 arches to begin.
A low-angle glimpse into the rhythm of urban life. Taken from the ground level of Cologne’s Chlodwigplatz station — a quiet geometry hidden beneath the city’s surface.
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Ein Blick aus der Froschperspektive auf den Takt des städtischen Lebens. Aufgenommen am Boden der Kölner U-Bahn-Station Clodwigplatz – eine stille Geometrie, verborgen unter der Stadt.
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.
I'm not quite sure what's happening here. Its the main Black Rock Beach which is now behind the new sea defence wall. The machine is levelling the beach starting from the sea and moving the pebbles to mounds n front of the wall. I'm guessing they're going to reshape it into trenches like the rest of the beach, Time will tell.
"We are not an intimidating gang like turkeys but rather a friendly gang of our own. Always strong together. We march to our own drum and that is a beautiful thing.
P.S. I hope everybody notices how tall and straight legged I walk, just like the rest of my gang! Also, my bill is only muddy because I dig my own food from the ground!""
- The Gosling ❤️-
Last week when I saw the vegetable garden on this car roof I thought the driver must have put them there when they parked. After a few days I realised the owner was sleeping in the car and has now been parked there for at least two weeks, along with a cavalcade of travellers.
In this moment, we are not the focus. We are a part of a larger, silent landscape. This photo is an exercise in the "indirect gaze," a concept inspired by traditional Japanese art where human figures are humbled by the immense scale of nature. It invites us to be observers, not the center of the world. #Photography #IndirectGaze #Landscape #Sunset #SilentWitness #Minimalism #NatureIsBoss #VisualStorytelling
When I saw this chap he was struggling to get a wire off from round his leg. He tried to run away but seemed to be in pain standing on his leg but not wanting to fly. I thought of the David Attenborough films showing the damage such wire is doing to nature and our environment. ........ I know, he's just a seagull!!
Tra mura antiche e finestre che lo sovrastano, un gattino si impone con grazia. Il vicolo è suo, e nessuno osa contestarlo.
Between towering walls and windows that dwarf him, a kitten reigns with quiet grace. The alley is his, and no one dares to challenge.
a fleeting moment. she stood there, reflected in the glass, tulips in one hand, phone in the other. sunglasses hiding her gaze, lips pursed as if lost in thought. the sign above her promised the best coffee in town, but she seemed far away from it all. some scenes feel like movie stills—fragments of stories we’ll never fully know.
from above, the city becomes a stage. under the harsh midday sun, people cast long echoes across stone tiles—unaware of their silent choreography. this fleeting geometry of shadows and motion draws invisible lines between solitude and presence, routine and poetry.
(Taken through an open window so capturing the wind blustering through the rain, the lights and the boats)
10 Striking Facts about Lightening
www.metoffice.gov.uk/weather/learn-about/weather/types-of...
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.