[dark is the night]


[there was night and there were shadows in the night … there was a saint who lost his head … there was a kitchen chimney that spewed white smoke in the dark of night … deep are the shadows of night … there was a man who stood in front of a glass window looking at his shadow in the night … but there was a chimney from the kitchen that spewed white smoke into the dark shadows of the night]

…DARK IS THE NIGHT…
…DARK IS THE NIGHT…

… there was a saint who lost his head …
… there was a kitchen chimney that spewed white smoke in the dark of night …

{photograph how it feels not how it looks}

There are several ‘maxims’ of the great photographer Ansel Adams.
Alluding to my photograph of a landscape from Serra do Fumal (southeast part of Serra da Canastra, MG-Brazil) – taken last week – I wanted to rescue one of these ‘maxims’.

In short: “photograph how it feels (not how it looks)”. Because in photography, let’s not forget, “it’s more about the emotion it evokes in the viewer than about its appearance”.

If not, here’s what Adams says in this context: “My Moonrise, Hernandez, New Mexico has the emotion and feeling that the experience of seeing a real moonrise created in me, but it’s not realistic at all. Simply clicking the camera and making a simple print of the negative would have created an entirely different – and ordinary – photograph. People ask me why the sky is so dark, thinking exactly in terms of the literal. But the dark sky is what it looked like.”

I’ve been told…that’s all for now…
Hope you like it….

[my transcendentalist ‘self’]









[my transcendentalist individuality is a mere fragment of the universal “self”…my personality is a fragment of the personality of Gods and Goddesses and the Universe]
[…I am at the same time the wings of a seagull that flies at the mercy of the strong wind that blows over a beautiful beach on a sunny afternoon when the storm approaches]
[…and I am the leaves of grass that spread in a green pasture on a day of clear sky and inclement sun after a night of torrential and warm summer rains]
[…and I am also the boys and girls who walk happily every morning on their smooth paths to school carrying their bags with their notebooks and their book and pencil and eraser, eager to learn more and more]
[…and I am the weary men stumbling back home after a hard day’s work to eat dinner, kiss their wife and sons and daughters and be glad to be alive and healthy and strong]
[no intention to deny what I was yesterday, what I am today, what I will be tomorrow]
[…who is to contest?]