Photography is far from taking one’s picture; it’s giving someone your trust
I parked the car I was sleeping in for that leg of the trip. Just before sunrise. I walked to where I felt the dim light exposing thew sky. I reached the arch when it was dark enough to only imagine. With the sun’s rays I could see the valley of my own shadow. The regality of life, symbiotically dancing with my desire to embrace a memory into my journal of life. (Mesa Arch, Utah, 2020)
In the first years of shooting more professionally I found that observation is preliminary to a good photo. Just sitting there, watching the crafty rugged hands of a man who’s been blowing bubbles this size for a while. Smelling the air, feeling the firmness of the bench I was sitting on. Listening to the leaves whisper beneath the chaotic human chatter. Feeling the light fracture on the thin soapy water. Simple. Colorful. Beautiful. Poof. (Manhattan, 2015)
I was walking by the Louvre, scanning the pristinely pampered gardens. Happy flowers in lilac purple, yellow and light blue. The sky was cracking for sunset, spreading clouds to welcome his majesty for one last encore. Hypnotized by the beauty of what was in front of me, around me. I stepped into a firm old arch, enveloped by its shade. The change of light made me send my eyes to a quest up, towards the ceiling. Mathematical sentences in the shape of divinity spilled into my heart. Following the story of gentle hands gentle hearts, yearning to bring beauty to the unseen. Just like a misunderstood song from the jungle, that once translated by the heart, leaving the brain to rest - becomes clear.
Walking in the trails by the Mohonk guest house, the water was almost entirely still. The wind was caressing her ever so gently. I witnessed a reflection that left my heart speechless. As I flipped what I saw on its side, I could feel the words forming so to honor the conversation I was preparing to have with the face of my own self I could now see. (Mohonk, New York, 2018)
Lessons about voyeurism can be obtained through curiosity. The 1 train from Columbus Circle left its final screeches as I chose not to board it. Going to school was important, but examining the angles of light penetrating the bleak tunnels was the degree I yearned for. Dimensions turned upside down so dramatically, that for a moment I was able to see from my heart and understand from my stomach. (Manhattan, New York, 2017)
“When you go into the woods, and you look at trees, you see all these different trees. And some of them are bent, and some of them are straight, and some of them are evergreen and some of the, are whatever. And you look at the tree and you allow it. You see why it is the way it is. You sort of understand that it didn’t get enough light, and so it turned that way. And you don’t get all emotional about it. You just allow it. You appreciate the tree.
The minute you get near humans, you lose all that. And you are constantly saying “you are too this”, or “I’m too this.” The judgement mind comes in. And so I appreciate turning people into trees. Which means appreciating them just the way they are.” -Ram Dass (Mesa Arch, 2020)
I walked close to the womb of our mother, to see ageless fetuses participating life, coming in and out as teachers of humility. (Zion, 2020)
Walking on the planet feels ordinary. On a planet that grew into a habitable world for us; for all living beings - tress, plants, fish, animals, insects and humans. Walking on rocks that just recently celebrated their 3 billion or so year old birthday ought to give us quite a rush. A rush of gratitude, respect, trust and harmony. Scars hold memories in their essence. Some traumatic, some of growth. Some two years old, some 50 and some 3 billion. (Mesa Arch, 2020)
Grand walls of fierce compassion, teachers of gentle patience. Dripping water of ancient times, holding the air of tomorrow. (Zion, 2020)
Architecture reveals the mystery of loving hearts. Women and men drawn to the aesthetics, translating their imagination from the source into the form. The purest form of manifestation, positioned agains the setting sun, chiseling out characters from stone. (Paris, 2016)
The control tower in Ben Gurion airport has a unique look when you stop and take the time to see it. (Lod, 2016)
The way our brain perceives depth fascinates me. As a gymnast, understanding spatial dynamics helped me plan a floor exercise or dismounting off the rings and landing on the ground. When looking into space, I find myself questioning the reality of it all; is this my brain’s fabrication? I have no answer to that, but I love being immersed in that mindspace during the journey of photographing. (Manhattan, Oculus, 2017)
Climb to this place where you can find stillness. Sit there, and breathe. You will find perspective, a vantage point from which you can see the darkness, you can see the light, and you can see the beautiful relationship between them. (Catskills, 2017)
Miles upon miles, steel rails placed on the ground to make steam engines pull trains across a country. Seen mainly by the silent gaze of the mountains. (California, 2020)
During my last year of my army service I headed to Croatia with three friends. My recollection of that trip, of that era, was full of wonder, strength and stability. No worries, no stress. Hike after hike, coffee boiled in a pot in a cabin up on the top of a mountain. Sleeping bags, fresh air. And now I can see the perspective from afar, eclipsing in gratitude into this new year, harnessing memories turning them into liquid thoughts. (Croatia, 2011)
Imagine the leaves falling upwards, branches growing inwards, starts dressed up at water, water disguised as skies. (North Carolina, 2020)
