Monday, April 4, 2011

Istanbul - day three (reflection)

I can't view my blog - so I'm not sure what it looks like or check my words:

(file needs to be added later : note to self)

I can't even see this image? I think it says something to the effect, this blog is not allowed to be viewed?

What are my thoughts and reflections? I have become more confident in my photography. I am pushing out my boundaries. I don't speak the language in the country that I am in. It's problematic to say the least, however I don't feel as alone as I have in the past. Some years ago I visited Berlin (again no command of the local language) it was very cold and bleak, and heavy snow made my mood melancholy. This time is different, although the rain has posed some issues.

I don't think I have enough personal motivation to take photographs at times. I'll find a reason not to, but then I'll fire into action and almost create a zone. I suppose I need to learn some coping strategies, have back up plans and work more efficiently. Looking back to the start of the week, I should have taken a taxi to the Bazzar. It would have been inside and I could have make good use of the cover. Also having my camera out of it's bag helps, it feels more part of me. I have a tool in my hand to help visualize my vocabulary that is inside my head.

I tried working on some papers tonight, but it didn't work too tired and needed to sleep. I spend my time thinking about what I'll do next. I only have one full day tomorrow. I need to make the most of it. I've gone through and looked at what I have already. One image staying in my mind. I found an old lady sat in a doorway. She had a bright pink headscarf, blue jacket and a brown dress. She sat chewing bread, or nuts as she spat something out (a nut shell I'm sure). Again like so many other people I'm seeing, leather-ed skin deep mahogany, but this time smooth almost oiled. I asked if I could take her photo, she agreed. I shot twice different composision, the closer framing I like more. As I depart and thank her, she waves goodbye. It was a perfect moment, poetry in motion everything flowed.... those are the moments, they take time and happen once or twice.

I have a respect for my subject. Hopefully my subject respects me.

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