Fujifilm x pro 1 as erotic cuckold fantasy
‘We imagine how it feels to be a character, why can’t we imagine how the land feels?’ – Paul Kingsnorth | Adršpach-Teplice Rocks
OK, it’s a cast of a Tarbosaurus. But still.
Look out the window. And doesn’t this remind you of when you were in the boat, and then later than night, you were lying, looking up at the ceiling, and the water in your head was not dissimilar from the landscape, and you think to yourself, “Why is it that the landscape is moving, but the boat is still?”
This has the essence of squareness on a 6×7. It’s Roy Lichtenstein on a label. A frame without trame. A halftone cubist symphony.
My comment on this post:
I like the idea of weaving ideas together (if my translation is accurate).
On our family trip to Portugal recently, I had the opportunity to indulge, doofus like, ND filter duly attached, in some landscape stuff. It strikes me that these are actually self portraits in a way. I’m in as close to a zen-like state as I get, taking zen like photos of not much, very enjoyable in its way, in effect taking photos of my frame of mind, when life, i.e. the family gets involved. Looking at my Lightroom catalogue there is a bunch of similar shots of a low bar being gently flooded on a foggy day interrupted by a visual poke in the eye – a five year old grinning in the lens. The day before my lovely wife in a socialist-realist heroic pose on the beach holds son the younger, as he grabs her camera and puts it in front of his eyes. It could be an album called ‘shots of the family while dad earnestly indulges his limited vision’.
That’s the end of my stream of consciousness for today.