View allAll Photos Tagged existential
This is a darkroom print from my project Aftermath.
Aftermath is a photography series I created during the pandemic, using a range of experimental techniques to explore the human condition in times of crisis. By employing methods such as film soup, developing color film with black-and-white chemistry, and innovative and alternative darkroom printing, I aimed to reflect the uncertainties and disruptions of the era. The work delves into themes of resilience, vulnerability, and the broader existential challenges posed by capitalism, offering a layered social commentary on our shared experiences during turbulent times.
although I know that Fungi and Shrooms are the existential basis of all life, they often appear to me like beings from outer space.
all rights reserved. use without permission is illegal.
In another time, when I was a different human altogether, I used to drive all night between upstate New York and Chicago listening to Radiohead’s Kid A, OK Computer, Amnesiac and Modest Mouse’s The Moon and Antarctica. It was a time I couldn’t even possibly conceive of photographing both bands as I drove all night on the thruway and across the winding curves of Cleveland hoping to not fall asleep and become part of a circle. And so, I’ve changed, the bands have changed, the cities have changed. But, did you know, just like a body turns into a new self after 7 years, so does a city? I came to Chicago 20 years ago and it’s about to completely change over for the third time (Math is fun, don’t you think, Karma Police?) Anyway, on a macro level, we’re all seeing the bulldozers and razed buildings, the rent increases, the humans being kicked to the curb like they never mattered. We all internalize this stuff like an infestation about 100x more detrimental and insidious than Coronavirus. And, on the microlevel, we can feel it too. It’s in all the elements of ourselves and the places we visited, the shows we went to, the restaurants we ate in, the people we bonded with who may not be still breathing. We’re still drinking drinking drinking Coca Coca Cola and we’re still heading down that road. We aren’t going to stop changing, a slow evolution or de-evolution until we die.
I chose October to resume this series for a reason. The main reason is this…it’s scary. Disaster Capitalism is the ghost who never stopped living and who you would never invite into your home on purpose, right? You want to avoid the devastation because it’s hard to function without welcoming all the misfits in your city into your home and calling it a day. You know you are a misfit, too. And, there’s a lot of peeling of surfaces, a lot of taking away from the original form. You know there’s a secret tension between those human made constructions and the others-the trees, the grasses, the nature that will also swallow us whole if given a chance. Just like…you know there’s a secret self who went to hundreds of protests to actively resist fascism when Trump was a more than an existential idea threatening all of human kind. It is terrifying to see all the layers. The more you look, the less able you will be to stop looking. And, it’s still happening. Just look at that abortion ban.
And so, if you see me on the street, my long red hair a chaotic tumble around my camera, please know that I am not insane as I crouch low and high on tip toe, capturing all the urban monsters inside ourselves. We may never be reconstructed because we’re not potential high end real estate. Maybe I’m crazy but, then again, what will that make the rest of this world?
Don’t forget to Refuse Fascism today! It’s never too late…
www.youtube.com/watch?v=3EA5b3FNI4w
**All photos, poems, rambles, etc are copyrighted**
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.
the existential struggle of Sartre
photograph by the great Antanas Sutkus
www.ananasamiami.com/2011/04/photography-by-antanas-sutku...
The New Raemon - Lo Bello y lo Bestia
One of these days I will raise .. and I will explode ..
Existential wound .. Much to my regret, animal consciousness,
my own destruction, the contradiction .. old collision.
Follow my campaign without forgetting that it is possible.
Beauty and beast of living produces a loud noise when leaving,
spinal proud to write, I pressed the crown, is not it ..
Not so ..
Not so ..
The New Raemon - Lo Bello y lo Bestia
Tribute to Cesco Dessanti
Tra pochi giorni ricorre l’anniversario della scomparsa, avvenuta un anno fa, del geniale Artista pittore espressionista e poeta Cesco Dessanti. Voglio ricordare e rendere omaggio, per quanto mi sarà possibile, con 7 fotografie che aiutino a comprendere questo grande Artista , particolare persona che ha sempre vissuto con la schiena dritta ed enorme coerenza pagando spesso in prima persona questo difficilissimo percorso esistenziale ed artistico.
PER MAGGIORI INFORMAZIONI VEDERE L 'ALBUM “ Tribute to Cesco Dessanti”
In a few days the anniversary of his death, which took place a year ago, the brilliant artist expressionist painter and poet Cesco Dessanti. I want to remember and pay tribute, as much as I possibly can, with seven photographs that help to understand this great artist, especially someone who has always lived with your back straight and enormous consistency often paying firsthand this very difficult existential and artistic journey.
FOR MORE INFORMATION SEE THE ALBUM "Tribute to Cesco Dessanti"
The term "the blues" is associated with feeling down or sad due to a combination of historical and cultural reasons. The colour blue has long been linked to sadness and melancholy in various contexts, and phrases like "blue devils" (referring to depression and hallucinations) and "blue Monday" (a term for the sadness of the start of the work week) solidified this association. The blues, as a musical genre, also reflects feelings of loss, loneliness, and existential emptiness, further reinforcing the connection between the colour blue and negative emotions.
Minehead, Somerset, UK.
When your lost, it's much easier to find your way home, if somebody leaves the lights on for you.
Image imagined in MidJourney AI and finished with Topaz Studio 2.0 and Lightroom Classic.
golden, hazy sunrise over the Lofoten islands, here on our way to Henningsvaer. This was a true moment when one feels filled to the maximum with awe and wonder.
Berber camp for a magical night. Somewhere near Tangier, Morocco.
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"... In the desert everything silences and surprises. Night happens sudden, profound, unfathomable and a massacre of doubts alerts us to become a magical thrilling.
A place with no name that feels as a heart and dresses us with an inviolable, magnanimous solitude, to give character to our existence. Here everything is absolute.
Life is always provisional and seems improvised and loaded on the shoulders of the enchantment of an imortal instant .
Without compromises, everyone is just and only himself.
Thousand ways... all invisible, unsuspected, without traces or footprints pursue routes without hours lost in the restlessness of the dream, in the thrill of the existential own will. Here the soul grows up. As the desert itself.
Eloquence and splendor of the Earth's last secret ... "
Alda Cravo-Saüde, in 'Diário das Águas' ( 'Diary of Waters')
subversolivros.blogspot.pt/2012/05/diario-das-aguas-alda-...
light cuts through the darkness.
he reaches out, but touches nothing.
a fleeting silhouette, caught between shadows.
museo de las ciencias, valencia
being is not doing
being is not achieving or aspiring
being is not growing
nor is it receding
not ebbing nor flowing
being is not becoming
being is not transformation
being is not the result of some positive fixation
nor is it the consequence of any particularly negative experience
it’s not static
nor dynamic
not passive
not active
being is not existing simply ‘because’
it's not autonomic
not rote
not step by step by step by step
not part of an incomprehensible process
being is not grand
nor is it insignificant
being is not an outward and visible sign
nor is it a higher order of consciousness
nor the zen of zen-ness
being is not egocentric
nor is it selfish
nor is it gracious
it’s not inclusive
nor is it exclusive
it’s not existential
nor is it nihilistic
being is not a method
not a path to connection
nor connection itself
nor disconnection
nor isolation
being is not anti anything
nor is it pro anything
nor is it any thing, really, at all
there is no sadness
there is no joy
no silence
no noise
no color
no shape
there is no light
there is no shadow
no desire
no longing
no brief interruption
no expectation
in being
littletinperson
Fomaton MG 131 24x30cm in Moersch SE5
A + B + H2O = 40+35+1000
Lith Ω - 1 min
Kentmere 400@800 in Ilford Microphen 1+0
📷 Holga 120GN
The term despair, when used by existentialists, refers to the fact that all the choices we make are based on uncertain information and an incomplete understanding of the world.
Source : Wikipedia
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Comments are welcomed.
... that I should not merely survive my everyday life...
I am wandering through a muddy existential swamp, struggling to live through my days, constantly on the verge of physical and psychological exhaustion. I have been in need for a good early morning photographic session for months, but sadly lacking the inner spark to actually ignite it. I forced myself, at last, even "knowing" that it would have been an unsatisfactory trip; I was back to the little enchanted world of the meanders of the river Adda, downstream the Lake Como - my little secret garden. A deep peace pulsed around me, if not within myself, a striking variety of bird calls interweaving with each other to compose a rich living tapestry, a symphony unfolding over the low murmurs of the lazy waters.
We have been experiencing a severe drought for the last months, the major Italian rivers reduced to thin, shallow streams snaking along gravel banks. The rivers are revealing long hidden mementos of the last war and even fossilised skeletons of ancient animals living in the Padan plain when it was a swampy savannah.
I have tread on places usually covered with water, nonetheless the river is still able to show its beauty in this specific location.
The sky was still unnervingly cloudless, as it always is lately, yet there was a beautiful, golden light - and the trees were wearing their springy, festive dress, encrusted with amazingly coloured filigrees of budding leaves.
To be honest, I am posting one of the most flawed photos from that session - technically speaking, at last. Yes, it is endowed with a huge lot of technical flaws, but I have fallen in love with it (and no better alternatives capturing that fleeting moment) so I processed the bracketing and I am posting it, hoping that it can still send positive vibes to your souls.
Explored on 2022/05/01 nr. 34
I have processed this picture by blending an exposure bracketing [-2.0/-1.0/0/+1.0/+2.0 EV] by luminosity masks with the Gimp (EXIF data, as usual, refer to the "normal" exposure shot), then I added some final touches with Nik Color Efex Pro 4.
Along the journey I tried the inverted RGB blue channel technique described by Boris Hajdukovic, which has contributed especially to the trees in the distance and their reflections. As usual, I gave the finishing touches with Nik Color Efex Pro 4. Raw files processed with Darktable.
Together/apart--the method of modern love. Or maybe just one of many methods.
Image imagined in MidJourney AI and finished with Topaz Studio 2.0 and Lightroom Classic.
have I ever mentioned how much I love thistles and the beauty of their design? Must be one more reason why I love Scotland so much :)
2006 was my first time walking the trails above a friend's home in Ben Lomond, CA. It was a magical experience. It remains embedded in my senses... the soft air on my skin, the loamy smell rising with every step, the birdsongs and rustle of furry beings, that feeling of being surrounded by beauty beyond comprehension, wanting to hold on to it, but knowing existentially that was impossible.
I believed it was only the moment I could not keep... that everything would remain to return to and enjoy.
And, now, in a flash, all this may be gone. Seventy miles away, safe in my suburban home, I can smell the trees burning. I can see the orange of their embers stain the sky an alien color.
I cry for the wildlife. I cry for my friends not knowing if their home, one that has been in their family through generations, still stands.
I look at my snapshots, remembering that, at the time, I thought I can always go back and take better photos with a better camera and, then, never doing it.
The lesson is, there may never be a next time.
EDIT: My friends' home miraculously survived. The surrounding forest and most of their neighbors' homes did not.
- Cardiacs - Is This The Life?
Following around to see a life that's never in
Always calling itself on its own phone
Though it's never quite at home in the world today
See it to arranging the day
Prepared in its own
Special way
With added loving care
THOUGH IT'S NOT BEEN THERE SINCE YESTERDAY
Looking so hard for a cause
And it don't care what it is
And never really ever seeing eye to eye
Though it doesn't really mind
Perhaps that's why
It never really saw
Never really saw...
Saw...
Cette photo me semblait trop "symbolique" pour être mise de côté.
Et alors que les interrogations de ce badaud face à la vitrine de ce bar/tabac/presse nous restent inconnues, certains titres et stickers affichés semblent se batailler : entre mal et remède... Ou entre angoisse réelle et élixir de colporteur douteux...
Saoirse is a historical and mythological tribute to the preservation of European Pagan traditions and resistance against Christianization. The track serves as a grand anthem celebrating ancient wisdom, cultural preservation, and autonomy.
The song directly pays tribute to the Irish King of Tara, who historically stood as one of the last Pagan rulers to actively resist the expansion of Christianity across Ireland. The opening clangs of swords establish a war-like atmosphere, framing the historical tension not merely as a physical clash, but as an existential battle to save a native culture from being erased by a monolithic new religion.
"Saoirse" is a Gaelic word that explicitly translates to "Freedom". In the context of the song—and the broader album—freedom is interpreted as the right of a civilization to retain its ancestral roots, indigenous gods, and self-governance. Frontman Sakis Tolis heavily connects freedom to intellectual autonomy, as reinforced by the song's massive, driving chant: "Hail freedom, hail freedom, our freedom, our wisdom." .
Though rooted deeply in Irish history and Gaelic pride, the track is intended as a universal anthem. As a Greek musician, Sakis Tolis has expressed that the track is a broader bow to the "hidden world" and "hidden knowledge" of pre-Christian Europe. It celebrates the historical figures who fought to protect their regional heritage against assimilation, urging modern listeners to respect and look back at their own ancestral roots for strength.
Source: The Metal Pit.
╔═════════*•.¸☠¸.•*═════════╗
Song: Saoirse
Artist: Rotting Christ
Lyrics © their respective songwriter(s) and copyright holder(s). All rights reserved. The lyrics are not reproduced here due to copyright protection.
a man walks into the light and disappears again. the concrete glows. his shadow steps ahead, as if it knows something he doesn’t.
valencia, late afternoon—truth told through angles and asphalt.
Sunrise of 2.14.20 over the scar of an old burn near the Lassen/Plumas County line up the near Antelope Lake in Northern California.
" When sunny gets blue "
Dow's Lake Ottawa Tulip Festival
Kenny Rankin - When Sunny Gets Blue
www.youtube.com/watch?v=nrt8Y-F3U14...
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...a mysterious intersection of chance and attention that goes well beyond the existential surrealism of the "decisive moment".- Lee Friedlander
Artistically, the image is created out of an existential craving for beauty - and hence pleasure.
Processing took place entirely with the Artisan Pro X panel. More info on my panel on my website. I've conducted a few live webinars earlier this year on the use of the Artisan Pro panel and actually beyond merely explaining the panel. Much time was also spent on explaining/demonstrating the generic principles behind B&W photography. Those webinars, 6 hours in total, have been recorded and are available, unedited on Youtube: part 1 - beginners and part 2 - Advanced
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Pondering the meaning of life often begins like that - standing still while the world moves, feeling the pull of something vast and unknowable.
Maybe it’s not about finding a single answer, but about noticing the beauty in the questions. The way light touches water. The way solitude feels like both a gift and a challenge. The way we choose to move - or stay.
existential joy…
life's impertinent quaver
between stone and sky
Twenty-second in the series ‘Wild Bonsai’, this tree is fifty-five inches (1.4m) in height and perhaps 750 years old.
'Wild Bonsai' is a numbered collection of photos of naturally occurring bristlecones (p. longaeva) generally less than five feet in height (1.5m) and - as nearly as I can estimate - between fifty and five-hundred years old - some much older. Most will have sprouted and survived in tiny cracks and crevases or miniature basins of sand and gravel. Shaped by the elements, flourishing tenaciously in the most minimalist of conditions, their lives are measured not in the millennia of more robust bristlecones, but in centuries...often mere decades.
'Duality', the cover photo for this album, is to me a matriarch of sorts and will remain unnumbered as a small token of a deeply intuitive and unapologetic respect that remains as transcendent and mysterious to me as it may seem odd to others. The essay that accompanies 'Duality' could, in many ways, apply as well to any other tree I may post in this series.
A perspective: Housed in the Tokyo Imperial Palace, the fifth oldest living cultivated bonsai in the world is something over 500 years old and is a designated National Treasure of Japan.
Title: The Final Voyage of the Trawler Hawser and the Rusty Old Shackle
Once upon a briny dusk in the forgotten harbor of Crumpet’s Cove, an aging trawler named Hawser stirred from a decades-long nap. Her hull groaned like a grandmother with gout, barnacles clinging to her underbelly like stubborn regrets.
Beside her, hanging limply from a creaking bollard, was Shackle—a rusty, irritable hunk of iron with a temper like a wet matchstick and a voice like someone gargling gravel and moonshine.
"I’ve been thinking," muttered Hawser, her anchor winch twitching with vague purpose, "what if we just... left?"
Shackle squinted. “Left? We’re antiques, Hawser. Artifacts. Fish laugh at us. Seagulls use my eyelet as a public restroom.”
“Exactly,” said Hawser with a glint in her fog-light. “Let’s go out not as scrap, but as legends. One last voyage—for self-discovery!”
Shackle spat out a fleck of rust. “You’ve been listening to the tide-poets again, haven’t you?”
But deep down—beneath the barnacles and the tetanus—they both yearned for something more. Something wet and dramatic.
With a wheeze, a belch of diesel, and an illegal amount of enthusiasm, Hawser heaved herself off the dock. The ropes gave way with a theatrical snap, and Shackle clanged into place like a rusty exclamation mark.
They sailed into the open sea, where waves greeted them with surprise and mild concern.
“Where to?” asked Shackle, now vibrating slightly with existential dread.
“North-by-northeast-by-chaos,” said Hawser. “We follow the jellyfish. They know things.”
Three days in, they found a floating disco run by philosophical squid. Shackle got in a dance-off with a bioluminescent cuttlefish named Kevin and realized he’d been clenching his metaphorical jaw for 43 years. Hawser learned how to feel the ocean, instead of just floating above it. She cried bilge water for the first time since '79.
They sailed further.
They survived a romantic entanglement with a lovesick lighthouse, narrowly avoided being recruited into a pirate-themed reality show, and at one point, accidentally entered a whale’s book club. (Moby-Dick was panned.)
At the edge of the world—a place cartographers refuse to acknowledge due to tax reasons—they met The Great Crustacean, a sentient lobster the size of a small village, who challenged them to a riddle contest.
Shackle won by accident when he sneezed out a bolt that landed perfectly in the lobster’s weak spot. Hawser screamed, “THIS IS WHAT GROWTH FEELS LIKE!” and accidentally triggered her emergency foghorn, summoning every sea creature within 50 nautical miles.
Together, the duo was declared “Honorary Ocean Elders” and gifted a sash made entirely of kelp and unsolicited advice.
They never returned to Crumpet’s Cove.
Some say Hawser became a floating spa for therapy seals.
Others claim Shackle was last seen hosting a podcast about corrosion and emotional vulnerability.
All we know is, somewhere out there on the misty blue, a trawler and a shackle are still discovering themselves—and possibly reinventing maritime jazz.
Fin. And some people about Ai taking their jobs
This one's for the only true Creature of the Light I’ve ever known. Even in absence, you remain the brightest part of my story.
Ricoh GRiii
Ricoh GR Lens 18.3mm/f2.8
beneath a cathedral of steel and glass, a lone traveler steps forward into converging lines and fading echoes. light pulses across the floor like breath, measuring distance and solitude. this is not an escape â it is an arrival into stillness.
our brain collecting information to compare with our guidelines to make sense.
According the online information,
thought encompasses a flow of ideas and associations that can lead to logical conclusions. Although thinking is an activity of an existential value for humans, there is still no consensus as to how it is adequately defined or understood.
“The capacity to be alone is the capacity to love. It may look paradoxical to you, but it is not. It is an existential truth: only those people who are capable of being alone are capable of love, of sharing, of going into the deepest core of the other person—without possessing the other, without becoming dependent on the other, without reducing the other to a thing, and without becoming addicted to the other.”
~Osho~
The words that inspired this image