t r u t h l i e s h e r e
half a lie, half exageration.dreamlog
I was going to some sort of slum (watched district 9 yesterday, might be related) alone, in my car. I dont remember how i was dressed, but i guess i was quite presentable. I dove a little bit but the streets narrowed so i had to walk. i remember i was going there for a particular reason, but i cant really remember why – maybe pick up something. on my way, i pass through a street party, with the street closed and a lot of people around. there was music and drinks also. then i stumble upon a couple of girls i graduated with (wich i dont really recall, they were like random people) and they insist they had to introduce me to someone. I try to get away, thinking it was a girl they would try to hook me up with, but then comes along a handsome guy, and introduces himself to me (no names were given, but he was smiling). Then he grabs my hand and in the middle of a handshake, he pulls me closer to give some sort of “nice 2 meet ya” kiss. i retreat, and he makes a really disguished face and goes away. i remain guilty about being so rude and go find him, when i do, i hold him and apologize. he kisses me on the neck and i say how i like the scent of his perfume.
then i wake up.
good eye
Of all the means of expression, photography is the only one that fixes a precise moment in time. We play with subjects that disappear; and when they`re gone, it`s impossible to bring them back to life. We can`t alter our subject afterward…. Writers can reflect before they put words on paper…. As photographers, we don`t have the luxury of this reflective time….We can`t redo our shoot once we`re back at the hotel. Our job consists of observing reality with help of our camera (which serves as a kind of sketchbook), of fixing reality in a moment, but not manipulating it, neither during the shoot nor in the darkroom later on. These types of manipulation are always noticed by anyone with a good eye.
Henri Cartier-Bresson,
American Photo,
September/October 1997, page: 76
(found @ /gagah’s fotolog)
e.t., phone, home!
on reality
If one experience a situation as real, no matter if it is or not, its consequences are going to be real aswell.
bang bang!
Nous n’étions que des enfants
Nous n’avions que 5 ou 6 ans
On jouait aux mêmes jeux
C’était lui le plus fort des deux
Bang bang, il me tirait
Bang bang, il me blessait
Bang bang, moi je pleurais
Bang bang, et il me consolait
Bien vite passa le temps
et nous sommes devenu grand
En riant il me disait
“Rappelle toi quand on jouait”
Bang bang, il me tirait
Bang bang, il me pressait
Bang bang, moi je pleurais
Bang bang, et il me consolait
Vous pouvez rire et chanter
pendant que je vais pleurer
Vous pouvez rire et chanter
pendant que je vais pleurer
Il était mon grand amour
Je voulais le garder toujours
Mais moi, je n’étais rien sans lui
car sans amour il est partit
Bang bang, il m’a quitté
Bang bang, je suis blessé
Bang bang, je vais pleurer
Bang bang, sans être consolé







