“100 lessons (…)

(…) from the masters of the street photography” by Eric Kim, an easy, inspiring read I’m entertaining myself at the times when I’m grounded at work.

if you happen to be grounded too, click here for a free pdf

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Madeira, black and white

the first thing I recall from Madeira is color. Bursting, wild, overwhelming palette of shades, embraced by the sharp, Atlantic light, hitting my eyes on every occasion.

maybe that’s why I like the photographs of Madeira in black and white the most. jungle tamed. organised chaos. big, vast, the most authentic mix of colors, black and white x-rays the island and leaves only what’s essential.

I miss laying my eyes on the far away, vast landscape. Madeira is a big pillow.

 

water of Madeira

In the sixteenth century the Portuguese started building levadas to carry water to the agricultural regions. The most recent were made in the 1940s. Madeira is very mountainous, and building the levadas was often difficult. Many are cut into the sides of mountains, and it was also necessary to dig 25 miles (40 km) of tunnels.

Levada comes from the portuguese word levar which means to carry. It carries the rain and the aggressive Atlantic storms from one side of the island to another, from the forests to farmer’s fields in the remote foggy mountains. While the whole idea of civilisation in the heights of Madeira is pretty shocking, the advancement of their water system shows some extreme determination. Paul said these people really wanted to settle here.

The land of Madeira is quite an impressive one too. Sharp, soaring mountains are covered with jungle and farms, levadas filled with fresh water, forming almost mathematically straight lines in the wild, distant landscape.

I tried to document the special relation of Madeira and the water. I got a strong impression, that people from Madeira have a special, conscious relation with its water, unlike most of the Western civilisations. There’s over two thousand levadas on the island, and beside their primary function as a water providers, they found another one, as paths, jogging tracks, everyday commute ways to school, fields, or work. Built by prisoners in the early times, the extremely hard and risky job, the water system has become something way more than what it was primarily created for; it’s a part of the island’s culture.

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levada dos Torres, Noguera

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levada dos Torres, the water tank

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levada do Norte

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levada dos Torres, Camacha

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levada do Norte

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western fields

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western fields

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western fields

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western fields

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Camara dos Lobos

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Cabo Girao

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birds from the tv antenna

the wind up bird winds up the world from the old television antenna

         

               Ptak nakręcacz naprawdę istnieje. Nie wiem, jak wygląda. Nigdy go nie widziałem, słyszałem tylko jego głos. Przysiada na gałęzi któregoś z okolicznych drzew i po trochu nakręca sprężynę świata. Sprężyna zgrzyta. Jeżeli jej nie nakręci, świat staje w miejscu. Lecz nikt o tym nie wie. Wszyscy myślą, że świat jest poruszany jakimś wspaniałym, skomplikowanym olbrzymim mechanizmem. Ale tak nie jest. W rzeczywistości ptak nakręcasz lata w różne miejsca i wszędzie po trochu nakręcając sprężynę, wprawia świat w ruch. To zwykłą sprężyna, taka jak w nakręcanych zabawkach. Wystarczy nakręcić, lecz nikt poza nim jej nie widzi.

trans.

            The Wind-up Bird exists for real. I’m not sure how exactly does he look like. I’ve never seen him, I’ve only heard the noise he’s making. He sits at the branch of the tree and slowly winds-up the world’s spring. The spring grinds. If he doesn’t wind it up, the world stops in one place. Nobody knows about it. Everybody thinks that the world is functioning thankfully to some mesmerizing, complicated grand mechanizm. It’s not true. The truth is, the Wind-up Bird flies to different places and everywhere, a little by little, winds-up the spring, makes the world go round. It’s just a regular spring,  just like the one in the old wind-up toys. You simply wind it up, yet nobody can see it, but him. 

Haruki Murakami, “The Wind-up Bird Chronicle”

the ocean

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we sat on the shore and watched the ocean.

Paul said “look” and the big wave came and than another and another.

as the ocean retreated the hundreds of stones rolled down. what a lovely sound.

I don’t know how many hours passed, but I don’t think the time was going minute by minute. It went a little bit here and a little bit there. tick tock, tick tock, like that.

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day to night and over again

there’s something particularly fascinating about the Ocean, and so when we ended up on a balcony with a view I started shooting. Multiple exposures turn out to be a brilliant exercise on patience and primarily a great fun, even greater when you account all the glasses of wine you can drink while waiting for the great appearance of the night.

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hey, this is so much fun! teleferico from high up:

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summer in britain

summer came to London, and it makes me sweat. Everybody has jumped out of their clothes and they now wear hardly anything, white limbs observing the world for the first time this year. Ridiculous amounts of half naked people have stormed to the parks and covered the grass with their half naked bodiesI’m lying there too, wearing my sunglasses and unfortunate jeans, looking at the summery vibes through my funky lens, this is London I’ve never seen, London everybody speaks about. I like this one quite a bit.

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