View allAll Photos Tagged unlearn
for Our Daily Challenge topic - "Courage"
For most of my ten yeas in China I studied Tai Ji individually with a great teacher. My goal was to be able to use the TaiJi Jiang - the sword. It took me about 6 years of learning Tai Ji before I was ready. I think the quality I needed most to continue as a student was courage because of the tremendous cultural differences as well as unlearning everything my body learned in ballet. I'm naturally very mentally active and busy so the courage to learn to control my mind in order to control my body and to maintain great mindfullness was also big for me.
The purpose of learning to use the sword, in a beautiful, flowing, swirling dance-like program, is to be able to move as if you were carrying a sword while not doing so. It confers a 'zone' of mental alertness and preparedness while feeling calm and relaxed. It took me a long time to understand this because my teacher always explained it thus, " You want to learn to hold sword so you can not hold sword."
I did kick a thief to the ground on a Hong Kong sidewalk at 4 AM because I "was not carrying my sword."
My teacher never taught me how to kick anybody, but I got the guy hard in the shoulder, then yelled at him in Chinese !
1. unlearn yr. national anthem, 2. Property Manager, 3. Ghost Hands, 4. walking meditation, 5. prayerfor the trees, 6. plastic garden3, 7. x-ray, 8. Butterflies in the stomach, 9. Damian Michaels, Heavy Headed, 10. flowers, 11. iconoII, 12. "the sleeping ugly", 13. close-up,push me pull you, BSG portrait show Feb 2008, 14. everything is too big_closeup_2008, 15. still waiting for the brilliance, 16. Untitled, 17. Untitled, 18. Samla in detta ögonblick, 19. Oh yes it will, 20. flurry detail, 21. flurry, 22. Kaetzin_u_roemAmme, 23. two of three, 24. Innenbilder08 (8), 25. Innenbilder08 (2), 26. "No Bones About It", 27. Strange Chemistry, 28. Orange room, 29. Blues, 30. Zesty bag
Created with fd's Flickr Toys.
I dont know how to teach photography, I learnt photography because I was made to see before I shoot ..I shot light with the darkness of my soul.
Marziya is one step on me she shuts her eyes and takes my picture .
So what is photography, according to me it is a lesson in sheer humility, taking from one and giving it to the other.
You need a camera , or photography is not possible , this thought is not a metaphor.
Now comes the second part of my lesson , in Unlearning Photography, photography is about Touch, the way you touch the camera before it touches you, Marziya knows the Nikon D 80 to hold it to shoot with it assisted by me.
This camera in her hand is her first toy, before she began playing with dolls cats and dogs.
This is her inheritance from me ..I dont care if she does not become a photographer , my intention in making her see the world through the lens is simply to get the bigger picture of life and to see it without cropping it, without distortion..without blinkers.
The way Marziya holds the camera should provide ample proof of her ability to shoot pictures with her eyes closed.
You have to close your eyes before you embed a seed which will grow poetically as a plant in another mans eyes.
I was taught photography by three Gurus and teaching Marziya is my tribute to all three of them.
Mr KG Maheshwari, Late Prof BW Jatkar and the robust dynamic Shreekanth Malushte.
These are the three main pillars that infused love for the camera the print and the larger picture of life.
My photography stems from the streets of Pain.,
But I must inform all you guys I was never a photographer , but I met a lot of photographers during my stint with Mudra Communication Court House Dhobi Talao, a very short stint that bought me close to a lot of photographers and the world of photography.I did not even possess a camera at that time.
A few of them are people I will never forgot though I dont know if they are aware that I am a photographer too ..
Pablo Bartholomew ..master of natural light , I accompanied him on a Vimal poster shoot Sweet Memories with Sangita Bijlani, he is a natural born..perhaps in retrospection watching him , hearing his talks with Vinod Manaktala near Ritz hotel where he did his slide processing helped me
Adrian Stevens Chin Win Lee Malvika Tiwari, Suresh Cordo , Mr Oberoi from Daulat building near Usha Sadan, Nadish Nowrojee Chippy, Shantanu Sheorey, were part of my world of optical illusions.
Pankaj Shah and his one time muse now a photographer too Urmilla Deshpande..
There may be others names I have forgotten , Mr Gurav the art director of Mudra was a another person who honed me artistically.
Suresh Sheth I had almost forgotten him..
The Bollywood connection with photography began with Harish Daftary , the most human congenial life loving unbitching photographer.
Rakesh Shresta I knew from my stint at Sheraton Treasures his family studio was Colorama at that time..at the Oberois.
Mr RT Chawla is a doyen I met sometimes and Singhal saab to name a few.
Marziya my grand daughter has been aware of the camera since she was only 2 days old.
Here at Flickr I photo shot the story of her life over 9000 pictures while she was growing , she too like me is comfortable observing street life.
Nothing scares her only cockroaches ...
She has met some giant names in photography , Marc De Clercq , Reza Masoudi , Jean Marc Gargantiel.. many more to come..
Though she awaits her god father the one and only street maestro Dr Glenn Losack MD from New York Manhattan.
So this is a short parable of a prodigal photographer and his one and only disciple Marziya Shakir 2 year old..connected bt blood and the Karmic vision of a world outside.. measured as imagery of Gods playfulness ..
Mind you sometimes the photographer is the only person on the planet who shows you God the photographers creations in a more divine light.
David Swerdlick,
Assistant Editor, Washington Post Outlook section
Thomas Chatterton Williams
2019 National Fellow, New America
Author, Self-Portrait in Black and White
Awista Ayub, Director, Fellows Program, New America
David Swerdlick,
Assistant Editor, Washington Post Outlook section
The Royal College of Physicians was founded by royal charter on 23rd September 1518 with ‘a view to the improvement and more orderly exercise of the art of physic, and the repression of irregular, unlearned, and incompetent practitioners of that faculty’. The first president was Thomas Linacre (1460-1524), physician to Henry VII and Henry VIII, and he gave the college use of his own London house joust south of St Paul’s.
In 1546 the college received the grant of arms shown here. Highly decorated, the grant shows a herald pointing to the shield on which is the college’s blazon. An arm descends from a cloud to feel the pulse of a patient; the object below is a pomegranate which was believed to cure agues.
i was bound hand and feet mouth gagged
a photographer unlearning photography
i was seduced by a photo blog goddess
prometheus unbound
she who taught me poetry
knighted me a blogger
set my multi colored soul free
i saw the pain the sorrow
train bomb blasts
cry my beloved country
cloud bursts, tsunami
could not crush the spirit
the resillience of a mumbaikar
born to a womb of mumbai city
a decapitated head of hussain
blood flowing on the sand of karbala
destroying ummayad pride and vanity
yes we are shias followers of hazrat ali
ya hussain ya hussain a chant
a severed branch still rooted
to the grandeur of the
holy prophets family tree
my new poem
picture shot lying sprawled on a ship deck off mumbai harbour…
David Swerdlick,
Assistant Editor, Washington Post Outlook section
Thomas Chatterton Williams
2019 National Fellow, New America
Author, Self-Portrait in Black and White
For the third pose of this video, lasting 3 minutes, we were invited to draw with our non-dominant hand (in my case the left). I think the idea is that this hand has fewer ingrained bad habits to unlearn than the other one.
The next section of the video was an anatomy lesson about the muscles of the neck, chest and shoulder. There was not all that much time for actually drawing, but I made an attempt at getting some sketches of the pectoralis major, trapezius and deltoid.
David Swerdlick,
Assistant Editor, Washington Post Outlook section
Thomas Chatterton Williams
2019 National Fellow, New America
Author, Self-Portrait in Black and White
MONDAY MUSE, 5 November 2012
ENVISAGE
Last Saturday, we led students of Mustifund Higher Secondary School to an uphill trek, from the 13th century Tambdi Surla Temple to the majestic Vajra falls. Most of the young trekkers were first timers. The strenuous climb was turned more prickly by the numerous leeches on the way. Every five minutes, a tired voice would inquire, ‘when shall we reach?’
I would inform ‘reaching the destination depends on speed, not distance’ and then add, ‘but when you reach it, it will be worth the effort!’ When I would describe the magnificence of the waterfall, the young enthusiasts would discover a renewed vigour. On reaching the milky cascade, one boy confessed that the description of the destination helped defeat the tiredness of the trek! I admitted that it was the only way to keep up the energy.
So often the journey can turn tedious and weigh us down. As fatigue rises, hope diminishes and doubts get magnified. It is in such predicaments that we can recharge our tired mind by looking forward to the eventual destination that we have set out for. The vision, of the destination that awaits us, will help us revisit the initial intensity of our intent.
The music legends ABBA sung it so well, ‘and my destination makes it worth the while; pushing through the darkness, still another mile.’ To be better at maintaining our passion during a wearisome journey, we must, in our mind’s eye, envisage the desired destination. In fact, the best vision is one that can envisage the entire spectrum of midway experiences as well.
To BE BETTER at every journey that looms large
We must revisit to the end vision we envisage!
Pravin K. Sabnis, Goa, India.
PRAVIN SABNIS conducts UNLEARNING UNLIMITED workshops for corporate & other teams. Since 2004, he regularly writes MONDAY MUSE. Earlier based on JCI-India President’s theme: Touch To Transform (2004), We Are The Future (2005), Speak Through Action (2006), Develop New Dimensions (2007); since 2008, MONDAY MUSE is inspired by the JCI theme – BE BETTER.
now i'm caught in between
what i can't leave behind
and what i may never find
so fly one time
fly one time
standing
at the edge of your life
at the edge of our lives
don't hold on
there's no fighting back the years
it's so hard to unlearn fears (*)
...
[more clouds inside]
(*) "Fly One Time" by Ben Harper and Relentless7
The former Loew's 175th Street theater is now Rev. Ike's "Palace Cathedral".
From Rev. Ike's Wikipedia entry:
He has stated that he owns a fleet of Rolls-Royces (a different color for every day of the week, appointed in mink), diamond rings, expensive suits, and multiple mansions - far from hiding his wealth, Reverend Ike makes it a point of his preaching. His theology centers around the "Science of Living" and "Thinkonomics," his own version of economics based on the premise that poverty, a lack of luck, poor health, etc., are the result of incorrect attitudes, a lack of confidence, a lack of faith and a failure to get in touch with the "presence of God within each of us." "Unlearning" these attitudes, according to Reverend Ike, leads to wealth and health and his own flamboyant prosperity, and that of some of his followers, is, he claims, evidence of this. (His television programs, for instance, used to include the "Blessing of the Cadillacs," where prosperous congregants were invited to drive their luxury cars past the church's doors for his laying on of hands.)
His mail ministry has long included an ever-changing variety of items: miracle prayer cloths, lucky coins, propserity bracelets and the like, each said to help the user tap into his or her own inner divine power (Reverend Ike suggested, for instance, that the prayer cloth be used to rub lottery tickets or horsetrack betting slips).
The title rang out in my head all week, this week. I've tried to "ostrich" myself from this topic of Trayvon Martin, saying "It happened in Florida, it was between a Latino and an African America, and media is just trying to shake the cage of racial tensions". I really can't use those excuses anymore.
1. This no longer uses a "Flordia thing" as an excuse as it has happened now as reported in Alabama**, and Illinois**, Lord only knows where this will spread.
2. Going back to the specific races, the man in Alabama** was...white?! Jokingly I have to ask: Hey black community what the hell have whites done to you recently, now?! Seriously though, this is undirected anger, built up by the "mainstream media", on a level of Rodney King!
3. So who helps dose or stoke this fire...? The celebrities*** and activists*** help beat the race drums of war inciting anger.
Look, what was done was messed up. I'm not saying Zimmerman is innocent, and I'm not saying Trayvon is without guilt - I'm saying that without the media spin, we have next to no facts on the case. One thing I can agree with Spike Lee on; when he finally knew his place he shut up until the trial started stating "Justice In Court". Is it too little too late? I can't say. We are all sitting on a powder keg and the African Americans wanting "Justice for Trayvon" are not only horrid examples of their race, prolonging the stigmas of "unlearned or misinformed angry black" stereotype. IF this picture spreads anywhere, if this entry goes "viral" if there's one message I ask all races, it's this:
This photo represents the harsh "justice" done to African Americans from civil war times, for nearly any crime, up to even the 20th century, in effigy of hatred. It represents both a time that I truly feel shame as a Caucasian and a human being.
Use this as a point of reference in efforts to never repeat the past, on ANY race, gender, religion, or creed, and move forward from this ugly page of the past. Please, please, please, realize that any race undisciplined, mislead, and filled with hate, is one lynch away from doing what the KKK did. Let that sink in for just a bit before anybody starts mugging, robbing, and looting in "Trayvon's name".
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***Spike Lee***
STROBIST INFORMATION:
ISO:50
f/:5.6
SHUTTER: 1/100
FOCUS: Manual
CAMERA: Canon EOS 5D w/
a 50mm f/1.8 mk I lens
on GorillaPod "Focus"
TRIGGERING: a Vivitar 285HV ("M" of Full Power setting)
w/ attached homemade snoot (two TAZO tea tins taped and sprayed matte black)
on a Manfrotto light stand. Wireless system used was a CowboyStudio NPT-04, hotshoed for both.
PLACEMENT: Doll "model" center-left of camera
Tree/gobo just right (out of frame)
Flash strobe 3ft away from tree/gobo
Vivitar 285 HV was behind-right of camera
Monkey makes a monkey out of me
here all who hate me will agree
ancestral animosity per se
including my detractor this rhesus no1 monkey
as I was hanging on to Word Press branches
on a tree
growing blogs on a Tree of Knowledge
fruits I share all free
multicolored ass martyred for the wrong reasons
cybernetic hate on a shadow boxing spree
penetrative eyes of a photographer this one
emulsifying wordless visual poetry
giving a picture a new life
the magic called
unlearning photography..
f stops zone system
descisive moment
archival shit crap
rusty lock sucked by a rusty key
to be a good photographer
you need to breathe
poetic symmetry
the core ..of this beauty
not getting lost in a depth of field
going round and round the mulberry bush
of a undigitalised pictorial periphery
a corrupted nikon body soulless sorrow called
a disaster D70..
wheel chair bound
undettered creativity
a master craftsman Girish Mistry
bw jatkar malushte
dronacharya kg maheshwari
at their feet I found
my photographic destiny
within the hallowed temple
Photographic Society of India
a gift from Mr GC Patel
to posterity
I am every month visited by this monkey his handler is a poor woman from Kalwa, this is one horny monkey as the moment he enters my shop he goes straight for my pet toy dogs ass.. I had posted these pictures but deleted them, as the moral culture vulture police …days of pictorial humor are gone…lovemaking on the rocks is a thing of the past…no holding hands, no looking into the eyes of your beloved..kissing is total taboo.. but you can see male genitalis from moving trains as they shit on the tracks, you can see Indian posteriors at Carter Road , as they shit …on the rocks…
I am shooting some of these guys at work, a new gallery..Shit hits the Face on the Rocks
This is a typical quintessential Mumbai street corner scene..the human ear has vaginal longings too,labial lechery,but no clitoral claustrophbia...
For Rs 5 / the ear cleaner man transports your hidden desires, your longings as he penetrates the cravings of your ear openings,sliding his instrument in and out, gliding in and out..this is the only time you will imagine what your woman imagines when you step down into her tube well..without the safety rope...
For the climax he ejects a few drops seminal like liquid to cool the over thumping temperatures within..
You are in a different world watching a Xrated film by the time he gets on to your next ear for the foreplay to another replay...
This is how I see the ear cleaning act...
If you see it differently I wont blame you.
To be a good photographer you need to be a poet too beyond seedy semantics.. Picture taking is wordless poetry.
Unlearing Photography.
If you see Nerjis watching the photographer shoot us , you can understand her dilemma ,but the person who shot us was a passer by educated , perhaps not comfortable with the DSLR ..
And this was shot a long time back , when I whisked her away without informing her parents to Juhu Beach and I can only take her within the boundary of Bandra Bazar , no further ..
Now she is 3 year old with sophisticated camera etiquette not taught in camera manuals , first she places the camera strap around her neck, she than holds the camera sits down ladylike and takes her shot , she than checks the monitor , perhaps she is aping me in some ways .
She spots a picture and I let her shoot it , first it was tame stuff ,beggars , kids , than she shot St Peters Church the crosses at the Bazar , the Ganpati Pandals , the Ram Mandir ,,I let her love become a passion...from the day she was born I blessed her with the camera .
She is intuitive ,but more than taking pictures I taught her humility through the beggars and the poor kids in the slums ..I buy toys I ask her to give it to the poor kids , and I nurtured her as a little plant and I see her bloom each day..
So one thing is certain she will never become a Bigot , we have many around us ,she wont be a racist , and when she shot a Hijra for the first time I explained to her the meaning of respect for all.
So obviously with such human groundings I dont think she will ever join a camera club , and she meets the best international photographers who come home ,she knows Flickr Facebook , and most of all she knows the Internet ,,
Dada picture Internet par dal diya ,, these are her words ,, when she sees her images on my photostream.
I learnt photography very late in life ,,now through her I am unlearning everything all over again ..and it is No Fuck F Stops .
SUSTAINABLE FOOD SYSTEMS: An integral part of any sustainable whole systems design is ensuring access to nutrition
Menlo students get schooled by UnLearn The World and Hip Hop For Change during assembly. Photo by Pete Zivkov.
Come you masters of war
You that build all the guns
You that build the death planes
You that build the big bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks
You that never done nothin'
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it's your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly
Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain
You fasten the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion
As young people's blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud
You've thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain't worth the blood
That runs in your veins
How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I'm young
You might say I'm unlearned
But there's one thing I know
Though I'm younger than you
Even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do
Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul
And I hope that you die
And your death'll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand o'er your grave
'Til I'm sure that you're dead
Dylan, Bob
Masters of War
Teaching to see is more important than merely teaching photography and the advantage of teaching a child 3 year old ,, is you dont have to talk about Fucked F stops ,, actually the child being more gifted with a more perceptive vision saw things without bias or emotional barriers ,, did she know why this man was not sleeping on a bed at home ...all she wanted was to be on the skywalk..and walk with me from one end till the Bandra Talao end where I would carefully carry her down the steep steps ,,to buy bloodworms for my flowerhorns .
But of late I would also bring her to the Bandra Talao to feed the pigeons ,,shoot the iconic ear cleaners listen to her chatter and her joyous angst , happy to be away from home ,,however than she would start asking me when I would take her back to her mother ,,
The most important thing she learnt about photography was her respect for the camera placing the strap gently round her neck, sitting down and taking a shot ,,she will take a shot see it on the monitor than ask me if it was OK..
So teaching a 3 year old child photography ,, I have been teaching her since she was a tiny toddler , is unlearning photography myself.
This is the unaltered, unphotoshopped version of a spoof picture that originated on IMAO.us, a political humor blog, where it was posted on March 4, 2008 under the header, "There Is an International Crisis at 3 A.M.; President Obama Answers the Call." Both the title and the Photoshopped clock on the wall refer to a scenario posed in a TV campaign ad released by Obama's rival, Hillary Clinton, in late February:
It's 3 a.m. and your children are safe and asleep. But there's a phone in the White House and it's ringing. Something's happening in the world. Your vote will decide who answers that call. Whether it's someone who already knows the world's leaders, knows the military -- someone tested and ready to lead in a dangerous world. It's 3 a.m. and your children are safe and asleep. Who do you want answering the phone?
It could also be regarded as an homage (or a rip-off) of a similar visual joke targeting George W. Bush that circulated in 2005.
The Obama spoof picture fooled both hillbillies and racist rednecks who didn't understand "photoshop" being used as a verb and deemed it "of Satan's loins." ©keezy.
The Urban Farm School in Asheville, NC is for folks who are ready to walk their talk, grow their food, and learn how to be food independent in our cities. www.ashevillage.org/urban-farm-school
Don Norman would be turning in his grave if he was dead.
Why is this stupid? Because until today this was a push or pull two-way door, and now it's not. In the 5 minutes I watched, everybody who came to the door alone got it wrong. I wonder how long it will take people to unlearn their morning instincts...
It's the roots of a tree that give the stability. For as far up and out it unfurls, the roots must go out just as far under the ground.
Those roots, although not seen are of paramount importance, they feed, nourish, support the growth, health and longevity of the whole tree.
Humans are a lot like trees, the roots are like the brain, a complex mass of signals and learning much of which is done during the relatively short formative years of development,. If learning is compromised, or wonky signals are made, then this will show up as the tree develops into adulthood. A lot of being an adult is to keep a check on the roots, I like to call this "Doing The Work".
The Work can take many forms, some of it is standard learning, noticing, questioning and finding out. If you get sick, notice what might have happened or be happening and do some research, test the food, try something new.
Sometimes it's about understanding the wonky signals, piecing together why growth is hindered or lacking, why are the signals short circuiting, why do I have a strong reaction to this thing and this other thing I'm apathetic about? Did something happen? Does that signal need to be unlearned?
The Work is lifelong learning. It's never completed- just when you think you've levelled up, you realise the summit is another level up...again.
At some point this year, I lost my voice. My last few uploads reflected that back to me. I had nothing to say, nothing to note- I'd lost who I was. It has taken a lot of sacrifice to get to this point. I've sacrificed my relationship with Dex...
It's been f**king hard.
But, The Work demands it. We must strive for betterness. For perfection.
This was a lovely day spent pottering in Chorlton and then Fletcher Moss Park in Didsbury. There was almost an accidental house purchase. But that's another story.
Scenes from a retreat in the Catskills. Nineteen visionaries spend a week at work on new projects and strategies for wholesome and sovereign living.
Dedicado: a mirn y la charla de msn
mamá, teta, sí, papá, leche, agua, sed, papa, comida, hambre, más, allá, acá, yo, vení, sentate, no, no quiero, gusta, no gusta, vos, duele, [...], te prometo que haré siempre lo que quiera.
. algunos conceptos lleva años desaprenderlos .
. . .
mom, breast, yes, dad, milk, water, thirst, food, hunger, more, there, here I, come, sit, no, don't want, like, don't like, you, hurt, [... ], I promise you I will always do what I want.
. some concepts take years to be unlearned .
.
.
- - -
saposaraso★ ® . all rights reserved
I've picked up some interesting habits from the last several years of shooting. I lost my passion for creative photography, for jumping out of the car and taking a photo on the side of the road like I used to. Part of it was the tedium of driving to a photo lab, and being a pain in the ass while trying to get things printed the way I would print them, as I no longer worked in a lab myself. Part of it was that I was making money taking photos at weddings. Working a wedding is so different from creative photography, and frankly it sucked the wind out of me.
Working a wedding...let's see, you wind up with 10 minutes to shoot a wedding party with 14 people, plus extended family photos, before everyone gets bitchy and wants to go and start to drink.
I always coach couples to leave time between the ceremony and reception to do photos. I tell them the party won't really start without them, that people will enjoy mingling and drinking a touch before the couple is announced, that it's okay to take longer to show up than the rest of the crowd.
I shoot the biggest groups first, and always shoot family first then we dismiss them and tell them to go and have a drink. It means less family milling around, taking their own photos, and bossing the couple around, and in general being in the way.
Then I always, always shoot the groomsmen before the bridesmaids and bride. They're the worst, they don't want to be in tuxes, they don't want to smile, there's always one who won't do what you tell him to do...I find it best to shoot them and get them the hell out of there, too.
The women are much more patient.
I shoot the couple last, then after them, a few of the bride. It's a routine, and it works well. I also use my most commanding voice, years of theatre has afforded me the ability to do that at least. I'm 5'2", my camera weighs as much as I do, and people see this young blond and by nature as I'm not a stodgy old man with a ton of equipment they see no reason to listen to me. So I demand they listen, through humor, and a booming voice. I always explain what I'm doing, that I'm going to take a handful of shots so we get one where everyone is looking at ME and only me. I tell them I'm going to count to three, and just after I say TWO I take the photo. On ONE people are fidgeting. On TWO people are ready. On THREE they're blinking in anticipation of the flash, so I shoot after I say TWO, and no matter how many times I do it to the same group of people they instinctively look their best at TWO. Really.
I do all of this in the span of minutes.
I have to. There have been very, very few weddings where I've really had the time I wanted to take the photos. Those weddings? Two of the women who afforded me time and trusted me were photographers. Another was the daughter of my best friend, another photographer. She had to listen to me. Even if her mother in law called me, and I quote, "that fucking photographer", during the reception when I was shooting, and she decided she was going to take THE photo of the night with her disposable...
So back to this photo and creative photography.
I've forgotten what to do. I get somewhere, I see what I want, I shoot it, I'm done. I'm done in five minutes. Patrick on the other hand is still contemplating his equipment, where he's putting his tripod. The man could, and has, spent hours in one location. I'm GO GO GO, and certainly I suffer for it. But I tell you, he couldn't fly through a wedding party without a panic attack, at not having time to fiddle with his settings, at checking his exposure once and only once in a setting and then flying through a round of portraits, knowing he could fix anything in Photoshop later. For me, taking the time to plot things in my camera again is a very, very new experience. Like I haven't shot before, that's how bad it is.
So the Holga...ahh, the Holga. It's about as basic as you can get. And yet, not that simple for a toy. You're dealing with big squares, limited control, and in that you get such amazing results and a surprising amount of things around you look like something you need to shoot with your Holga. I find myself excited again, like in photography class in high school. I find myself reassessing things again. This shot...this was the first time in a long time I got out of my car to shoot something I had driven by since I got my license, literally 12 years now. It was begging to be shot with my Holga. And when I stepped out of the car a deer ran away, just out of the frame. How cool is that? (Although I will tell you this was right up the road from where I lived, and the deer there were thicker than squirrels and I rarely appreciated them they were so common.)
So anyway, in my opinion, shooting a wedding forces a certain creativity out of you, as you have to accomplish something monumental in a very, very short window. As you have things you want to do, and standards to live up to of your own, and expectations of the couple, and of their parents who want THE photo to hang in their homes.
Shooting something creatively, there are no expectations except the ones you put on yourself.
Mine are high, it feels like I've been paid to take photos, I should be able to do this...and yet it's a totally different approach and I frankly suck at it. Then again...I'm not taking an hour to set up a shot. I sort of have to learn all over again, unlearn the bad habits working under time limits have bred in me.
And Holga...it's about as basic, and yet intriguing as it gets.
Our next emulation assignment was originally suggested by our own dear Kate - The Tamed Shrew back in 2009.
There are several resources available, the most rich is the website devoted to him is done by his estate.
As I have read through the information on this artist, I conclude that Ernst Haas' style was realistic but poetic. He used colour purposefully as an integral element of his art.
Rather than listing his bio here, I'm going to list his philosophy - note that there are 10 separate pages to his philosophy:
www.ernst-haas.com/philosophy01.html
Other's thoughts on this artist are listed here including Ansel Adams, and Henri-Cartier Benson, again 10 pages to this part of the website:
www.ernst-haas.com/reflections1.html
Here is a four page gallery of his photos:
www.ernst-haas.com/reflections1.html
Here is a sample of some of his thoughts as listed in this website:
www.johnpaulcaponigro.com/blog/12029/24-quotes-by-photogr...
“A few words about the question of whether photography is art or not: I never understood the question.” – Ernst Haas
“There are two kinds of photographers: those who compose pictures and those who take them. The former work in studios. For the latter, the studio is the world…. For them, the ordinary doesn't exist: every thing in life is a source of nourishment.” – Ernst Haas
“The best pictures differentiate themselves by nuances…a tiny relationship – either a harmony or a disharmony – that creates a picture.” – Ernst Haas
“Best wide-angle lens? Two steps backward. Look for the ‘ah-ha’.” – Ernst Haas
“The most important lens you have is your legs.” – Ernst Haas
“The camera doesn’t make a bit of difference. All of them can record what you are seeing. But, you have to SEE.” – Ernst Haas
“The camera only facilitates the taking. The photographer must do the giving in order to transform and transcend ordinary reality. The problem is to transform without deforming. He must gain intensity in form and content by bringing a subjective order into an objective chaos.” – Ernst Haas
“You don’t take pictures; the good ones happen to you.” – Ernst Haas
“Learn by doing or even better unlearn by doing.” – Ernst Haas
“Don’t park… Arrival is the death of inspiration.” – Ernst Haas
“I am not interested in shooting new things – I am interested to see things new.” – Ernst Haas
One more essay with about a 10 minute reading time:
fadedandblurred.com/spotlight/dreaming-open-eyes-ernst-haas/
We are human.
Thank God for that.
We shoot pictures of our world , we try to spread our warmth , our woven tales beyond cybernetic shores.. thereby touching a chord..a picture becomes a message of Hope.
It touches heals and binds.Those whom we never knew become through the aegis of our photography our contacts and our new friends.
Photography has no time for heartburning Hate.As an instrument that plays music soundlesssly creating ripples , yet breaking through barriers of sound and speed is the convulsing force of photography.
To feel this aspect of Photography you must feel Poetry of life as it unwinds every morning when we wake up from our world of slept out dreams.
You need words thoughts to make a poem, pictures you need nothing just the inner light of your vision.. whatever you shoot.
Simplicity thy name is photography.
Photography simplifies , unconfused to the arithmetic of other sciences.
No doubt you need to know the basics but the rest comes as you go on burning pictures on the emulsion of your human soul.
I had a very nasty comment on my poem Fuck Off by an American poet , it hurts but you get used to it.. Poets are more viciously venomous than photographers in their Hate.
I know this for a fact being a Photo blogger for 24 months .
I learnt rapidly poetry and photography.
You write three lines you make a poem..
It is not necessary how it translates on the readers mind, actually a poet writes for himself, that he is read is because there are some poets who are better readers.. even though they have written nothing in their lives..
Americans who live on the top floor of lifes condominium love to throw their spit till it hits the guy on the sidewalk.. without realising you got to be nice to people on your way up as you always meet them on your way down..
Maybe I am wrong in my estimation but this is what I have seen, I with all my knowledge , with my experience still am unlearning photography.
I came to Flickrs to show case my pictures not my words , but habits die hard..
Here in the picture is religion, seen as a photographic faith, charity all human virtues being bestowed on the little child by a man who feeds crows each morning, he is a Catholic his wife died recently of Cancer, he searches for her ,her memories , the good times the bad times, the ups the downs, he feeds crows , I leave the rest as a metaphor of his angst , his raw wounds and unhealing pain.The child well all the lessons of life in a few crumbs..Here the Child is the Father of Man.
This is what photography and being human means to me.
The heaviness of scriptures , fire and brimstone, bigotry, terrorism , misplaced martyrdom I forget when I shoot a child.
Yes this child was feeding the crumbs to the crows.
I picked up a crumb that accidently fell at my feet and hastly popped it in my mouth.
I began Unlearning the Poetry of Life .
This book's title refers to traditional meditation that regards mind talk as empty chatter that should be let go of or ignored in favor of a simple repetitive, calming, sensory focus like the breath.
Jason Siff wrote another book before this one on nearly the same subject: Unlearning meditation: what to do when the instructions get in the way (c2010, 211 pages).
First of three paragraphs from this web page:
skillfulmeditation.org/Jason.html
"Jason Siff began meditating as a teenager, however it wasn't until after attending a Goenka Vipassana Meditation retreat in Kathmandu in 1986 that he developed a serious daily meditation practice. He attended several 10-day retreats in India and Nepal during that year, and left for Sri Lanka in 1987 to learn the Mahasi Method and become a Buddhist monk. He practiced meditation and studied Pali at Kanduboda Meditation Center and then later at the Island Hermitage. It was at the Island Hermitage that this new practice of Recollective Awareness Meditation started to take shape, and he first introduced this approach to groups of foreign students at the Nilambe Retreat Center for a period of six months in 1989. He left the Buddhist Order in 1990 due to ill health and moved to Los Angeles, where he finished a Master's Degree program in Counseling Psychology and worked as an intern. He taught meditation and gave talks at the Community Meditation Center in Los Angeles from 1990 to 1995. He co-founded the Skillful Meditation Project with Gordon Smith in 1996, and has been teaching meditation full-time since then. He lives in Idyllwild, California."
Jason Siff: Awareness of Thinking Meditation Talk (16 mins):
soundcloud.com/recollective-awareness/awareness-of-thinki...
30 July 2015 Thursday. Finished reading this, which I liked all the way through and learned a lot from. Now I want to go back and reread much of Jason Siff's earlier book, Unlearning meditation: what to do when the instructions get in the way.
Scenes from a retreat in the Catskills. Nineteen visionaries spend a week at work on new projects and strategies for wholesome and sovereign living.
Menlo students get schooled by UnLearn The World and Hip Hop For Change during assembly. Photo by Pete Zivkov.
...I've collected during three Meditative Healing Learning Modules by Jivan Mukta in Helsinki between mid March and today, June 13, 2013.
The whole set: www.flickr.com/photos/connectirmeli/sets/72157634101446353/
Graffiti expression not my sentiment as far as organizations go. [either way, No KKK, No BLM]
7/2020 UPDATE:
If interested: Has Anti-Racism Become A New Religion
with John McWhorter and Coleman Hughes
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UPiNiTwf5bM
Is Black Lives Matter Right? with Coleman Hughes
Remember the threat from which it was said:
"You will reap every seed that you sow."
And the tomb where you lay is the bed that you made
Be still in the pain that you wrote.
See now, every scar is a choice you make
Every choice is a vow you take
Take pity upon your fate, you coward!
Sleepwalk through Heaven's call, no forest for the trees.
Unlearn every step you take, it'll bring you to your knees.
Tread...
Shallow water
Safe from the weight, the burden of sacrifice
Sons and daughters, pray for the rain
May it redeem their eyes.
And now we have seen what complacency brings
As the blind are assuming the lead.
Dig deep in the hole where you buried your soul,
In the river from where it bleeds.
Take now your eternal stand before it pulls you in.
The shot reminded me of this song for some reason :3
I learnt photography very late in life ,,when I was younger I could not afford a camera ,,and when I could afford a camera I did buy one in Muscat , I was working at Muttrah,, my first Nikon EM in 1982 with lenses etc , but when I returned to Mumbai I was married with a kid and broke so I sold the EM ..I had used it very sparingly ,,
I did not catch the bug when I worked as a stylist cum model co ordinator at Mudra Communications ,,at Court House Dhobi Talao ,, but I met the cream of photographers and spent the best time with Pablo Bartholomew but even at that time I had no interest in photography, I was busy styling the clothes of Mr Kabir Bedi for Vimal summer and winter campaign that was to be shot by Pablo but he could not do it so it was assigned to Mr Suresh Seth.. and several years later in the late 90 s I renounced the bottle and finally took up photography ..so I have been shooting pictures since 1998 ,,, blogging since 2005 and ,,after dabbling in all kinds of photography I began to call myself a street photographer , a penniless street photographer , my photography has been a hobby with no commercial gain or profit ,, I am on Flickr the best photography school since 2007 ,,
It was late Fred Miller on Flickr who told me I was a street photographer ..so all my religious shots processions etc all came under the ambit of street photography...I saw things as a street photographer ,, and I firmly believed you can only shoot what you were destined to shoot ,,
I shoot in color and I miss the analogue experience of film.. but I have no desire to move backwards ,, I prefer BW ,, I hate color ,, personally even my sartorial choice is pristine somber black.
Now to the Naga Sadhu I shot near the Bandra Jain Mandir ,, I have been shooting him since 2009.. he begs at Bandra Hill Road and backlanes of Bandra Bazar Road ,,all these years I have never asked him his name ,,he knows I am a mystic and when I told him my connection to my Naga Guru of Juna Akhara he gives me added respect .. and he was sad though we were both at the Nasik Kumbh Trimbakeshwar 2015 our paths did not cross ..
I give him money , he takes without making demands like the other Naga Sadhus ..who come to our area ,,and I have decided the next time I meet him I will shoot his video.. he is one of the most kindly Sadhus ,,and he knows I am a Muslim but he still treats me equally , .. and he also knows I am from a Sufi order of Malangs ,,and this is Mumbai where a persons religion does not come in the way of brotherhood and peace .
And I just spoke to my street photographer granddaughter Nerjis at her mothers hometown...and wondered if she will remember the lessons I taught her in Unlearning Photography and I am happy for once my grandchildren will never need to be part of regressive camera club culture at all.,,I gave them the Gift of the Third Eye Of Shiva that was once given to me by Late KG Maheshwari and late Prof BW Jatkar.. Black and White Jatkar.
I can smell the death on the sheets
Covering me
I can't believe this is the end
But this is my deathbed
I lie here alone
If I close my eyes tonight
I know I'll be home
The year is 1941
I was eight years old and far, far too young
To know that the stories of battles and glory
Was a tale a kind mother made up for a son
You see, Dad was a traveling preacher
Teaching the words of the teacher
Mother had sworn he went off to the war
And died there with honor, somewhere on a beach there
But he left once to never return
Which taught me that I should unlearn
Whatever I thought a father should be
I abandoned that thought like he abandoned me
By '47, I was fourteen
I'd acquired a taste for liquor and nicotine
I smoked until I threw up, yet I still lit 'em up
For thirty more years, like a machine
So right there you have it
That one filthy habit
Is what got me where I am today
I can smell the death on the sheets
Covering me
I can't believe this is the end
I can hear the sad memories
Still haunting me
So many things I'd do again
But this is my deathbed
I lie here alone
If I close my eyes tonight
I know I'll be home
Got married on my twenty-first
Eight months before my wife would give birth
It's easier to be sure you love someone
When a father inquires with the barrel of a gun
The union was far from harmonious
No two people could've been more alone than us
The years would go by and she'd love someone else
And I'd realized I hadn't been loved yet myself
From there it's your typical spiel
Yeah, if life was a highway, I was drunk at the wheel
I was helpin' the loose ends all fall apart
Yeah, I swear I was destined to fail, and fail from the start
I bowled about six times a week
A bottle of Beam kept the memories from me
Our marriage had taken a 7–10 split
And along with my pride, the ex-wife took the kids
I can smell the death on the sheets
Covering me
I can't believe this is the end
I can hear those sad memories
Still haunting me
So many things I'd do again
But this is my deathbed
I lie here alone
If I close my eyes tonight
I know I'll be home
I was so scared of Jesus but he sought me out
Like the cancer in my lungs it's killing me now
And I've given up hope on the days I have left
But I cling to the hope of my life in the next
Then Jesus showed up, said, "Before we go
I thought that we might reminisce
See, one night in your life, when you turned out the lights
You asked for and prayed for my forgiveness
"You cried wolf; the tears they soaked your fur
The blood dripped from your fangs
You said, 'What have I done?'
You loved that lamb with every sinful bone
And there you wept alone
Your heart was so contrite
"You said, 'Jesus, please forgive me of my crimes
Sanctify this withered heart of mine
Stay with me until my life is through
And on that day, please take me home with you' "
I can smell the death on the sheets
Covering me
I can't believe this is the end
I can hear you whisper to me
"It's time to leave
You'll never be lonely again"
But this was my deathbed
I died there alone
When I closed my eyes tonight
You carried me home
I am the way
Follow me and take my hand
And I am the truth
Embrace me and you'll understand
And I am the light?
And for me you'll live again
For I am love
I am love
I am love
by: Relient K
Jung suggested that the psyche was composed of three components: the ego, the personal unconscious and the collective unconscious.
According to Jung, the ego represents the conscious mind while the personal unconscious contains memories, including those that have been suppressed. The collective unconscious is a unique component in that Jung believed that this part of the psyche served as a form of psychological inheritance. It contains all of the knowledge and experiences we share as a species.
The collective unconscious, Jung believed, was where these archetypes exist. He suggested that these models are innate, universal and hereditary. Archetypes are unlearned and function to organize how we experience certain things.
"All the most powerful ideas in history go back to archetypes," Jung explained in his book The Structure of the Psyche. "This is particularly true of religious ideas, but the central concepts of science, philosophy, and ethics are no exception to this rule. In their present form they are variants of archetypal ideas created by consciously applying and adapting these ideas to reality. For it is the function of consciousness, not only to recognize and assimilate the external world through the gateway of the senses, but to translate into visible reality the world within us."
The shadow is an archetype that consists of the sex and life instincts. The shadow exists as part of the unconscious mind and is composed of repressed ideas, weaknesses, desires, instincts and shortcomings. This archetype is often described as the darker side of the psyche, representing wildness, chaos and the unknown. These latent dispositions are present in all of us, Jung believed, although people sometimes deny this element of their own psyche and instead project it onto others.
Jung suggested that the shadow can appear in dreams or visions and may take a variety of forms. It might appear as a snake, a monster, a demon, a dragon or some other dark, wild or exotic figure.