Got my last few rolls developed and scanned, this one stood out to me, I really like it. Big thanks to my beautiful model, of course :).
This about sums up how I feel looking at all those poor caged animals, whenever I go to the Zoo. As much as I enjoyed my trip to the Zoo yesterday, I can’t help but leave it feeling rather depressed. So many sad, frustrated animals.
Trust it to me to go to a “wild flower garden” and end up mostly making photos of the “normal” trees that surround the place.
Spring is here, for realsies now.
Photo taken in my (shared with my downstairs neighbours) front garden. One of the reasons I moved to this place is because it has a proper garden with two trees in it. Some of the other green has died out over the years it seems, but I’m planning on planting a few things myself to bring it back to it’s greeny goodness. This, of course, separate from my vegetable plants project, planned for my balcony ;-)
This is roughly what my view looks like three hours a day. Replace ahjumma perm with the occasional youngster, or old dude.
I feel like Terrence Malick sometimes (but without the skills or results, of course), suddenly noticing something mid-activity, dropping everything and crawling inside a plant or tree to make some photos. Oh nature.
I was full-on spring-cleaning my house, and after watering the plants I noticed how pretty it looked in the sunlight (I had placed them in front of the open window). So I grabbed my flimsy tripod, poor man’s macro lens (Nikkor 55mm f/3.5 AI-S) and tube extender and snapped a few photos. Here are the results.
Made last Friday from the balcony, right before I jumped and hurdled towards my…weekend.
November 12th, 2013
While my physical proportions would very much prove the opposite, to my mom I’ll always be her little boy. And most handsome, smart, funny, awesome, brilliant.. wait, what were we talking about? Oh, right.
My mom is my hero. A mighty strong woman (meant both mentally and physically — I have stories to share), smart, funny and fair. She raised me unable to fully understand what it’s like not to have an amazing mother, always there for me when I need her, always there to listen.
With her view on life —and numerous hobbies— I have never seen her not find something to enjoy and appreciate in life. I think that’s why I’m so lucky to have her as my mom. I definitely stole some of those genes. Minus the knitting and quilting ones, I thankfully left those where they were.
To me, this photo shows who my mom really is. True, honest, and herself. I see a fantastic woman who somehow managed to raise five children, umpteen cats, dogs, rabbits, birds, Guinea pigs and a husband to boot, and still laugh this way.
She’s the driving power in my life that has made me the man— err, “my little boy”— I am today.
I love you, awesome mom.
You’re quite terrible at playing Mario Kart, though. Yikes.
November 12th, 2013
Of the few people I consider to be my inspiration and guides, my dad is solidly standing at the top. Not only is he a fair, logical and honest man, his sharp wits and seemingly never-ending source of quotations have helped me better myself countless times. Whenever I’ve felt stuck or difficult, he has a way to get me to find an answer.
Never shying away from speaking the truth no matter how difficult it may be to hear —and say—, my dad has always been a strong supporter to me. Although he’d rather see me stop “fiddling with code” and go photography full-time. But I digress.
I am truly honored and blessed to have a father as intelligent, cool and awesome as my dad. I’ll never consider myself as good or accomplished as him, but whenever I realize I picked up something from him I say to myself; There, I got a little closer.
Plus, he looks like a bloody gorgeous movie star, so suck it, people. I win.
I had a certain vision for his portrait photo, and minor focus issues aside, I think it came out pretty well. Thanks for helping me with this project, Dad. I know how much you enjoy sitting in front of a lens ;-).
Photo made with a Mamiya 645 1000s and 80mm lens on Ilford XP2 ISO 400 film. Shot with natural light in the living room of my parents’ home.
November 12th, 2013
Introducing a new project of mine; portraits. My first attempts were less than perfect, having missed focus and generally making them a wee bit too dark, but I’m a big fan of the results anyway, probably more because of the subject at hand rather than my part messing up the settings ;).
Starting off is my beautiful little sister, who kindly (and only slightly reluctantly) allowed me to make a photo of her when I visited holland not too long ago. Considering this was a bit awkward for the both of us (I rarely do staged photos), I think she did admirably well, showing her beautiful and all-natural, honest smile.
Thank you, Roos. I’m honored and happy to have you as my little sister. High-five! :-)
Technical details; Photo made with a Mamiya 645 1000s and 80mm lens on Ilford XP2 ISO 400 film. Shot with natural (and too little) light in the living room of my parents’ home.
For the past 27 years I’ve been making mistakes, learning from them (occasionally), and generally doing the same thing over again. I’ve expressed my opinion, spoken the truth even when a lie would’ve been so much easier for all parties involved, caught a liar, listened to unspoken words, understood a person by listening, tried my best to be honest, fair, loyal, reasonable and forgiving, and pressured others on occasion to the same. And, of course, I’ve also done the opposite of all the aforementioned, maybe more often than not.
When I look at what I am, who I am, my failures and how I’ve dealt with them, my successes and what I’ve learned from them, I can’t help but see my parents’ involvement in each and every part of this. For this, I am, was and always will be grateful. For them, I am writing this letter. A thank you — nay, a thank you.
Today, thirteen thousand, five hundred and fourteen days ago, my parents said “I do” to each other, perhaps not even realising fully the power those two words would have (or, one, or, five, depending on what words they actually chose to say. Contrary to what age my “old soul” may indicate, I wasn’t around to witness this in-person just yet). Thirty seven years together, on this very day. In a way, a number that is hard to fathom for someone who’s been wobbling about only two-thirds of this time they’ve lived, yelled, laughed and held hands together.
And, yes, five children. They’re surprisingly Christian, for people who are not Christian.
I’ve seen my parents get through many a thing. Some things simply devastating, others slowly and methodically tried to break them, hurt them deeply, wound them. But they’ve gotten through it all, and then some. Whenever I feel down, weak, hopeless or simply awful, I reminisce, think about the many moments they must’ve felt the same or, probably, worse, and how they got through. Their strength and perseverance, their hope, and their thirty seven years of togetherness have given me the strength to carry on, to find hope where at times I thought none existed. They are, without a shadow of a doubt, my role models and my pride.
I’ve been living in Korea for nearly five years now. The day I left Holland I felt very similar to my father who, at a young age, did the same thing when he left for New Zealand by boat. six months on a boat, and six more months actually in New Zealand later, he was on his way back, to where my mom was. His and my journey started in similar ways, though they’ve since gone rather different routes. I’ve managed to find a girl half-way across the globe who somehow has some very striking similarities with my mother (I CANNOT ESCAPE YOU LEAVE ME ALO– ahem, pardon.), and I am here, being more and more like my father in a country filled with people who would very much prefer I wasn’t.
And that, as they say, is the beauty of life. The growing similarities between you and your parents, the growing realisations that while, yes, you are more similar, you too are very much not the same just yet. Next time I’ll do better, dad.
I love you, mom and dad. Happy thirty seventh anniversary.
- Your proud and lucky to have you as parents middle son.