|A perfect day on a boat, who could ask for more?|
I don't shoot a lot of weddings but when I do it's nice when the people are as great as Till, his lovely wife Nici and their family & friends.
image of a 1000 wires connected to a pole at an intersection in Kamla Nagar to make my point but the 100+ images that I had on my iPhone were lost when the phone was stolen from my left front pocket while riding the subway from Connaught Place to Chandni Chowk. Schade.
John Wolf, and asked him if he'd like to say something regarding the above image. Here's what he wrote:
The Traces We Leave
Knowing my love of metaphor in photographs, my friend Howard sent me the picture above and asked my opinion. I immediately thought of a series on impermanence that I recently completed, and how well his image would fit that group. But what intrigues me even more than the deteriorating leaf, with all its rich symbolism, is the trace it has left behind. For in that impression, stamped now on the window sill, is clear proof of the leaf's pure form, just as it was in all the perfection and greenness of summer. Of course, that too must pass, but for now, at least, it lingers on, outliving its shriveling source.
Forensic scientists have a maxim that says, "every contact leaves a trace." Finding that trace is the heart of their work. Today forensic science has become so advanced that even absent any visible residue, such as smooth metal wiped clean of fingerprints, techniques involving heat and humidity can reveal evidence sufficient to build a solid case. They now know, for example, that immediately upon contact, finger and metal begin a process of chemical union, as on a microscopic level the print actually becomes an indelible feature of the metal. Although hidden from the naked eye, to the scientist it's as obvious as the alleged face of Christ on the Shroud of Turin.
We humans leave traces too. The Hindu word samskars and Buddhists term kunzhi namshe identify the traces we embed in our consciousness. These terms describe a strange repository of subtle, lingering impressions born of every action we perform with intention—physical, verbal, or mental—and even the slightest aversion or desire. Traces of everything we do, Eastern sages teach, etch themselves forever into the mind-stream, coloring our present and driving our future. Yes, even our thoughts; perhaps more so our thoughts.
In their book Thought-Forms, Theosophists Annie Basant and Charles Leadbeater describe thoughts as material things made of subtle physical matter. Each of us, they write, travels through space enclosed in a cage built of our habitual patterns of thought. Until we raise our consciousness and master thought and feeling, they say, we see nothing as it really is, but only vague residuals of our own thinking, which color and distort experience like badly made glass.
Do I read too much into photographs? I wonder sometimes. But the best images, in my view, contain all the richness and suggestiveness of good poetry. Contemplating them and their transcendent power is one of the real pleasures of art. Howard's beautiful leaf-koan has made me consider what I am leaving behind. We may think the Hindus, Buddhists, and Theosophists cited above are nuts. But who can argue with the practice of living our lives as though our every action matters. I prefer to believe that everything we do lingers on, like a fragrance, not only enveloping us, but offering their traces—of hate or love, sorrow or joy, indifference or compassion—to everyone they touch.
heard things for Mr. Diamond aren't so good these days. Its funny how the mind works. These guys are probably just having a nice little chat but, in light of recent events, one can't help but wonder what they're really talking about.
Galleria on several occasions. With it's arched glass roof and the pristine decor it's just the perfect balance of how to describe space in my opinion. If you ever get there and, you enjoy good coffee, make sure you stop at the Gucci Cafe and try one of their single source espressos. It really is the icing on the cake.