View allAll Photos Tagged visualnarrative,
Every seedling, every hint of knowing, every spark of inspiration begins as a wispy, little thing.
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a back portrait of my neighbor (digital) on the left and a misty morning in the park (film) on the right
I spent the better part of a day experimenting with different homemade filters for my 67mm diameter lenses, in this case, the Helios 40-2, and after a bit of post-processing, I am absolutely delighted with the glow and the bokeh! In one interview I read with photographer Susan Bernstein, who creates the most dreamy images on film from gear she made herself, Susan said that we should keep searching and trying new things until we find the gear that fits with our vision. This is getting pretty close. If I can find a way to merge this with my lensbaby, I will have arrived! I guess I know what my next project is going to be. :)
The quiet weight of time, interrupted only by the grin of helium optimism.
Olympus OM-D E-M10 Mk.II
M.Zuiko 45mm/f1.8
like a brushstroke vanishing in light, the silhouette floats into the glow — neither arriving nor leaving, just passing. shadows collapse behind her like closed pages, and only silence remains in the tunnel’s breathless geometry.
in the depths of the old city, a silhouette walks the tightrope between shadow and salvation. above, the sun explodes into geometry, marking a path that cuts through silence and stone.
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a fleeting silhouette disappears into the glow of palma’s narrow streets. cobblestones glisten like memory, light bleeds into dark — a quiet rhythm in midday heat.
in the hush of a rainy afternoon, two umbrellas form a quiet cathedral. beneath one, a man gazes sideways—his white hair tracing the years, his silence louder than the crowd beyond. in this brief frame, time bends inward, and all that matters is the shelter we find in each other, spoken or not.
I am not Iban by heritage, but the longhouse has long been woven into the fabric of my childhood. I never lived in one, yet I grew up with its presence—playing in its corridors, watching life unfold beneath its towering stilts, and soaking in its warmth and rhythm during visits to nearby Dayak communities. For me, the longhouse was more than a structure; it was a living memory—a backdrop to laughter, discovery, and cultural richness.
Now, decades later, I return as a visitor—not just to a place, but to a feeling that never truly left me.
“The Iban Longhouse Soul” is a merged image, carefully crafted in Lightroom using two separate exposures. One captures me in stillness—contemplative, present—while the other is a motion-blurred echo of myself, walking through the very same space. This layering of images reflects the layers of time within me: the adult revisiting a place that once held the child, the present walking through the corridors of memory.
The blurred figure represents the soul in motion—a longing spirit caught between past and present, drawn to the familiarity of woven mats, vibrant buntings, and the hanging ornaments that still breathe tradition into the wooden beams of the Iban longhouse.
Though these longhouses are becoming part of history, fading into stories and photographs, they remain alive in the memories of those who once walked their length—even if only as children.
This photo is not just documentation; it is remembrance. It is my quiet tribute to the soul of the longhouse, and the soul it left in me.
a fleeting symmetry between two strangers separated by glass, each absorbed in a private ritual — one reaching for the sky, the other lost in the glow of her screen. between them floats a promise: crafted by hand & heart.
a silent silhouette descends through stone and void, framed by the narrow breath of light at the end of the tunnel. the steps remember stories the figure may never tell. it is not arrival or departure—it’s a suspended return, caught between the hush of shadow and the whisper of what waits beyond.
fleeting moment on an escalator, where the city’s chaos mirrors its quiet routines. her reflection feels like a parallel reality, a fleeting reminder of the everyday narratives that unfold silently. shadows and light, focus and blur—all tell a story of movement and stillness.
he sat there, somewhere between dream and reality, his face tangled in a paper croissant. the hand reached out, perfect and polished, but it would never touch him. reflections play tricks on hungry minds. madrid, calle alcalá
there’s a quiet charm in the timelessness of the bouquinistes of paris. once guardians of books, they now curate nostalgia—posters from another era, magazines with forgotten headlines, and a sense of permanence in an ever-changing city. this man, with his steady gaze and relaxed posture, seems almost like a relic himself, embodying the calm resilience of his trade. fallen leaves frame the scene, as if autumn itself has paused to pay respect to a tradition slowly evolving, yet refusing to fade.
a fleeting pause in the city heat, her parasol glowing like a lantern as she sips and turns. light and shadow carve the moment into something both delicate and cinematic.
she always waits until the page turns. bold, but never rude. today, she didn't notice the lens—too busy pretending not to steal. photographed at home in palma, where even the smallest visitors write their own stories.
she walks like punctuation, framed by sun and silence. in the briefest slice of light, her thoughts cast longer shadows than her steps.
on a warm day in palma, amidst the bustling streets, thomas and i embarked on a photo walk, discovering the hidden narratives of the city. thomas, with his incredible eye for detail, paused by a weathered door, intrigued by what lay beyond. his camera captured the essence of curiosity as he peered through a mail slot, uncovering the stories concealed within the shadows. this moment, frozen in black and white, embodies the timeless allure of street photography—finding beauty and intrigue in the ordinary.
a beautiful haiku by my dear friend [https://www.flickr.com/photos/canonmao/]:
The wonders of curiosity
The keepers of discovery
A moment to treasure
captured during a quiet moment in palmaâs galeria velázquez, just a step away from the bustling mercat de lâolivar, this photo unveils a poetic intersection of reality and illusion. two workers, burdened yet graceful, carry a pane of glass that reflects not only the surrounding streetscape but also fragments of their own presence. the transparency of the glass merges their efforts with the cityscape, crafting a seamless visual dialogue between the physical and the ethereal. this fleeting moment, filled with symmetry and texture, tells a story of labor as artâwhere even the most mundane of tasks becomes a canvas for reflection and interpretation.
i sat with them, though not really. two men, basking in the spill of midday sun, locked in a timeless ritual—exchange. the crumbling stone of palma watched on, silent and stern. the beard punctuated the air with gestures, while the can of soda burned red like a thread through their banter. below, a painted shadow slipped between newsprint columns, anchoring them to the everyday. here, the sacred and the ordinary blend—words, walls, and a whisper of history folded into the folds of conversation.
a fleeting moment through the window. shadows of the present pass by, blurred and faceless, while the statue stands still, timeless and unmoved. a silent witness to all who come and go. between stone and shadow, past and present merge. a quiet reflection on memory and time.
an old man stands stark against the vibrant backdrop of an advertisement featuring a young woman in a crimson dress. his weathered features speak of many decades lived, a silent testament to resilience against the glossy idealisms of youth and beauty promoted behind him. the city breathes around them, these two figures, juxtaposed in their existence, creating a silent dialogue between what is worn and what is eternally youthful.
late night in barcelona.
a narrow passage, a glimpse through a steamy kitchen window.
he looked up from the prep station,
hands still holding the roll of cling film,
half in motion – not startled, just paused.
we didn't speak.
but the look said: you can take the picture.
and so i did.
this one is for everyone who works while the rest of the city sleeps.
in a cobbled roman courtyard, a woman gazes down at her camera — absorbed, tender, unaware. beside her, a dog watches with open joy, tail quiet, eyes warm. it’s a portrait of shared attention: one drawn inward by the mechanics of vision, the other outward, content simply to be near. time slows. the light softens. something lasting passes between them — as silent as focus, as constant as trust.
An elderly man sits alone on a park bench, absorbed in reading a newspaper, surrounded by soft morning light and quiet greenery
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in el arenal, where the sun-soaked streets echo with stories of leisure and carefree days, thomas blends into the vibrant scene, not with stealth, but with humor. his propeller hat, a playful nod to the fun-loving spirit of the place, spins lightly in the warm breeze, a beacon of cheerful irony among the more predictable beach attire. thomas, camera in hand, captures the pulse of the "deutsche meile," leaning in, crouching low, every movement a dance with the lens. here, amidst the blend of german voices and spanish charm, he’s not just a photographer; he’s part of the scenery, recording the day with a wink and a grin. the photo, no doubt, will reflect the same—joyful, alive, and just a bit mischievous.
outside mercado barceló, the queue for a concert stretches down the street. when the rain begins to fall, the line softens â dissolving into quiet islands of friends like this one. cardboard, umbrellas, shared playlists and calm anticipation. they've made a home out of waiting.
An Iranian man sitting outside his store finishing his quick smoke. Location Deira spice market, Dubai
No Festival Internacional de Jardins de Ponte de Lima, a gravilha serve de base para uma instalação artística onde vieiras, maioritariamente da espécie Pecten jacobaeus, evocam o Caminho de Santiago. Este elemento, historicamente associado à peregrinação e símbolo de viagem e descoberta, reforça a ligação cultural da região ao Caminho Português, que atravessa o concelho. A instalação, que integra o evento desde a sua criação em 2005, combina arte contemporânea com simbolismo religioso e cultural milenar, sublinhando o diálogo entre natureza e património. A utilização das conchas cria uma narrativa visual que remete para a herança cultural da região, integrando-se no conceito de jardim como espaço de reflexão e fruição estética.
At the Ponte de Lima International Garden Festival, gravel serves as the basis for an art installation in which scallops, mostly of the species Pecten jacobaeus, evoke the Way of St. James. This element, historically associated with pilgrimage and a symbol of travel and discovery, reinforces the region's cultural connection to the Portuguese Way, which runs through the municipality. The installation, which has been part of the event since its creation in 2005, combines contemporary art with ancient religious and cultural symbolism, underlining the dialogue between nature and heritage. The use of shells creates a visual narrative that refers to the region's cultural heritage, integrating it into the concept of the garden as a space for reflection and aesthetic enjoyment.
www.flickr.com/photos/186748575@N02/albums/72157713187109... This image tells a harsh and raw truth:
the young man is “in the bathroom,” a metaphor for a life still immersed in confusion, difficulties, and the “shit” of the society we live in.
It is a state of transition, of pain, but also of resistance.
The man outside the bathroom, instead, is an elderly person who symbolically is “out of the shit” — he has lived through life, approaching the end, the liberation from earthly suffering.
“In & Out” is the boundary between youth and old age, between chaos and calm, between struggle and surrender.
These shots were transformed and recomposed in 2020, during the lockdown caused by the pandemic of humility.I am republishing these images today as testimonies of a critical moment for humanity, where restrictions deeply impacted our relationships and revealed dynamics of control and manipulation.
The Covid pandemic was used as a pretext to limit freedom and divide people. This image is meant to recall both physical imprisonment and the need for awareness and inner rebellion.
this image captures a bouquet of dried flowers fastened to an old bicycle, its faded elegance contrasting with the rusted metal and worn tire. the vibrant purples and yellows of the flowers stand out against the muted background, telling a story of beauty persisting amidst decay. the soft focus and delicate lighting enhance the sense of nostalgia and timeless charm, making this a poignant representation of enduring grace in unexpected places.
Roll film week
from my series "Where Love Resides"
Bronica sqa, bronica zenzanon s 150mm f/3.5, Ilford Delta 400, developed in Rodinal (1+50 for 12 mins)
There’s a moment between restraint and release—when you’re not hiding, but holding. This is that moment.