View allAll Photos Tagged chasinglight
040811 - as a photographer i have felt that my style and taste evolve according to my experience. i think that most of the photographers or every photographer will say the same. it's called learning... and experience.
i have been feeling that i am closer and closer to recognize my style, though my friends already say that recognize it. it's always tougher for us to do so, i think.
i believe that one of the statements i will write on my about page on my portfolio page (being designed as we speak), will be about chasing light. chasing light in tree leaves...
i am in love with light... morning light... sunset light. this one was caught during sunset.
{a place for twiggs shop} / {a lomo love affair shop} / {poppies are red shop}
The 12-Hour Starshow
Padre Burgos
Province of Quezon
A star trail produced by 12 hours of continuous shoot. From sunset to sunrise. Of course some overexposed parts were thrown away. The light trails created were almost half circles.
Contact me for more photos: bongbajo@yahoo.com
Play me a song that reminds me of this. When wood resonated with simple chords, laughter echoed in quiet halls, and every moment rang with adventure. And when we walked in silence because words couldn't say what hearts felt. #sweeterpoetry
|| Chau, Argentina! The PNW is calling me again. ||
Final curtain @australia #seeaustralia #seesydney #ilovesydney #focusaustralia #icu_aussies #ig_australia #hello_bluey #ic_landscapes #ig_sunsetshots #sunset_madness #sky_perfection #sunset_captures #sky_captures #nature_perfection #epic_skyshots #chasinglight #sunset_hub #landscape_captures #nature_brilliance #sky_sultans #sky_brilliance #my_sunset #majestic_earth #epic_captures #beautifuldestinations #awesomeearth #awesome_earthpix #milkbeach #superyacht
DEPICTIONS: A tale of PORTRAITS
Before my marriage to landscape, I was a disciple of portraits.
I missed shooting portraits.
That is why I would like to share some of my collection of portraits taken during a trip with Manny Librodo in Pagsanjan.
I wanted to rekindle my love for portraits and here are some of my work...
I am water. I am waves. I am the ocean that cannot escape its own depths no matter how many times it breaks - pulled backwards as much as it is shoved forward into a land that does not welcome it.
And so I will keep crashing upon this sunset shore, trusting that, soon, my droplets will refract enough gold to pay off your fear.
#sweeterpoetry
Hummingbird Pulse; 129
“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
"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)
For more photos and connect to me, visit
www.facebook.com/nileshsoni.photos
Looking forward to your constructive comments and catch up more.
“This is what you shall do;
Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body.”
― Walt Whitman
There's just something about a nicely furnished hotel room with lots of natural light.
Springton Suites by Marriot
Hershey, PA
“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