Burn

If I were to refer to myself as a photographer, I think I would be doing a grave diservice to the photographic community. Here you will what best can be described as non-photos, a phrase coined by nitsa, and one I am comfortable with using.

Some of these photos are here because I like them, some because others like them. Some make me laugh, others are poignant. Invariably, most help prompt a memory or event I don't normally, if ever, think about.

If you look at the referencing, you will see most are not here at all. If I can ever get to the stage where one in ten photos make it here, I might rethink how I refer to myself.

Flower

Walking out of our hut in the (early) morning before the sand sweepers had been round with their barrows and these flowers would be abound, quite often still falling. Returning to our room after breakfast, they would have started to disappear, and by 10am they would be gone. After dinner, we would find that the sheets of our bed had been pulled back and folded to a pattern, adorned with the flowers and petals that had been collected that morning.

4 Nov 2005 21:52 | (0) comments | Veligandu 09/05