and one lone color red
Latest
Transformation
Fears and tears
in the sunshine
of April
“The cruelest month”
New life
overcomes
the death
of winter
and with it
its hope
of escape
in dying
Can’t it
just end
Samsara
No poetry
No muse
No spirit
Oh, April,
the killer
month
The Soul
Snatcher
The menacing
life force
that most
revel in
kills my
will
to join
in the spirit
of rebirth
I see only
the cruelty
of Samsara
**********
April raindrops
dry tears
and Spring clouds
sooth
my parched soul
and bring back
will and spirit
to join
the living
once again.
From Death to Life
Another rebirth
Love beautifies Love beautifies everything and if we learn to love everyone, all our imperfections can be washed away, especially by loving kind words. Sant Kirpal Singh (BooK excerpt from: Spiritual Elexir)
On Portraiture
Portraits reveal a desire for human connection;
a desire so strong that people who know they will never see me again
open themselves to the camera, all in the hope that at the other end
someone will be watching,
someone who will laugh or suffer with them.
Kashmir
Yemen
Afghanistan
What could be more simple and more complex,
more obvious and more profound than a portrait.
– Charles Baudelaire
Kashmir
Yemen
Baluchistan, Pakistan
A good portrait is one that says something about the person.
We usually see parts of ourselves in others, so the
good portrait should also say something about the human condition.
Afghanistan
Kabul, Afghanistan
The most difficult thing for me is a portrait.
You have to try to put your camera between the
skin of a person and his shirt.
– Henri Cartier-Bresson
Philippines
Pokhara, Nepal
Lambari, Brazil
Madhya Pradesh, India
Dubrovnik, Croatia
Photography and the genre…
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Visions of Summer in Winter
Apparition
Temporarily immortal
Sue Vincent’s magnificent piece on her Daily Echo is an amazingly beautiful set of visual and verbal truths…
Morning lights the east with liquid flame as the earth and I shrink into ourselves, frozen and pensive. Even so, with such beauty as this you almost wish you could live forever so the memory of it would never fade. The dog, dismisses my philosphical mood and with her usual abandon, races across the field with every evidence of selective deafness. Ignoring both blandishment and command with her lopsided grin, she chases her breath in circles and greets the birds. Why, after all, would she want to come back to a nice, warm house and breakfast when there are moments like this to be had?
The sky changes, moment by moment, fierce flame and pastel softness vying for attention. It is, of course, incredibly boring for her to sit inside when there is a whole world out there to explore. Ani would far rather chase the morning than curl up…
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