Tagged: photography

Weekly Photo Challenge: Through (and some Mary Oliver)

I miss writing.  So I promise to do it soon.  And more frequently.  Photography, it seems, has seized all of my attention the past few months and I can’t seem to unlock my gaze at the world; this life I constantly crave to document one snap at a time because it’s the fastest way to express my love and gratitude.  Love for a life peppered with extraordinary moments. Gratitude for each and every breath and step I take.   I am extremely blessed and photography has allowed me to say thank you often and quickly.

But I know I can do both. Write and shoot and continue to tell my truth bit by bit.   So, that’s the plan.  🙂

In the meantime, here are some recent snaps of my looking/passing/peering/gazing through something.  Tell me what you see…thanks for passing by.

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Bone

by Mary Oliver

1.

Understand, I am always trying to figure out 
what the soul is,
and where hidden,
and what shape –

and so, last week,
when I found on the beach 
the ear bone
 of a pilot whale that may have died

hundreds of years ago, I thought 
maybe I was close 
to discovering something –
for the ear bone

2.

is the portion that lasts longest 
in any of us, man or whale; shaped
 like a squat spoon
 with a pink scoop where

once, in the lively swimmer’s head,
it joined its two sisters 
in the house of hearing,
it was only

two inches long –
and thought: the soul
 might be like this –
so hard, so necessary

3.

yet almost nothing.
 Beside me
 the gray sea
 was opening and shutting its wave-doors,

unfolding over and over 
its time-ridiculing roar;
I looked but I couldn’t see anything 
through its dark-knit glare;

yet don’t we all know, the golden sand 
is there at the bottom,
though our eyes have never seen it,
nor can our hands ever catch it

4.

lest we would sift it down 
into fractions, and facts –
certainties –
and what the soul is, also

I believe I will never quite know.
Though I play at the edges of knowing,
truly I know 
our part is not knowing,

but looking, and touching, and loving,
which is the way I walked on,
softly,
through the pale-pink morning light.

(from Why I Wake Early, 2004)

 Photos taken by my Nikon D90 or my iPhone4.  Snaps taken in Tagaytay and Batangas.

grateful slice:  appreciating the obvious and seeing what’s  beyond

Weekly Photo Challenge: Unusual (catch up)

“Stuff your eyes with wonder, live as if you’d drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It’s more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories.”

– Ray Bradbury

Most memorable moments are unusual.  Here are some recent snaps of moments truly unforgettable.  I haven’t written in a while but that doesn’t mean nothing much has been happening.  On the contrary …

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Time is flying at light speed and sometimes, I feel like I can’ t keep up.

So, thanks G, for the gadgets that allow us to document, remember, share and tell our stories.

grateful slice: being back on the grid and nature’s gold

Weekly Photo Challenge: Down

It’s hard to think about the concept of going down without  juxtaposing it with the  idea of going up.   I don’t think it’s possible.   Looking at someone going down a flight of stairs, means the seer is on his or her way up.  Climbing a million and one steps to get to a specific place, makes me think about the million and one steps I would need to walk down again to get back to where I started.  Then there’s the idea of being in the mountains for a week.  When I think of the mountains, (and I do love the mountains), I also can’t help but think of the sea.  And how I need to be near it very soon.

I know. A little weird, right?  It must be the exhaustion.

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Sea Fever by John Masefield

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way, where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

All photos were taken in Sagada with my iPhone4.  Filters used from Instagram.

grateful slice:  the Mountain Province, the ocean and Photography

Weekly Photo Challenge: Launch

Here’s to launching 2012 with a bang.   Some NYE fireworks snaps (Not our own. Hahaha. We just squatted in the village park).  Thanks for the tips, bro.

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Shots taken with a Nikon D90.

grateful slice:  starting the year with a whole lot of  love and hope

Weekly Photo Challenge: Waiting

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“so I wait for you like a lonely house
till you will see me again and live in me.
Till then my windows ache.”
― Pablo Neruda100 Love Sonnets: Cien sonetos de amor

I’ve been silent for a reason; a good one, I promise.  Soon will come soon enough.  You just need to be patient.

grateful slice: poetry and photography

Weekly Photo Challenge: Windows

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i go to this window

just as day dissolves
when it is twilight(and
looking up in fear

i see the new moon
thinner than a hair)

making me feel
how myself has been coarse and dull
compared with you, silently who are
and cling
to my mind always

But now she sharpens and becomes crisper
until i smile with knowing
-and all about
herself

the sprouting largest final air

plunges
inward with hurled
downward thousands of enormous dreams
by ee cummings

grateful slice:  No school Mondays

Weekly Photo Challenge: Opportunities

Show up. Pay attention. Do your absolute best and surely, they will come knocking.

I have favorites though.


Traveling (@ the Brisbane Airport)

The classroom @ The Beacon School

Asking the hard Questions during Meetings that matter (Prince Alfred College, Adelaide)

The accidental click of the camera (Rundle Mall, Adelaide)

Oprah says that there is no such thing as luck;

only preparation meeting the moment  of opportunity.

I think she is on to something.

grateful slice:  surrendering and opportunities

Weekly Photo Challenge: Comfort

Comfort means family.

 Travel.

Family and Travel.

The Guinto Grandchildren: Sabine, Basti and Mateo in HK Disneyland

Comfort also comes from taking photos.

Willing subjects and color.

Beautiful people.

Happy Feet.

And sharing all that through instagram, my favorite app in the world.

IG, the ultimate comforter during hard days at work.

Thank you.

I heart instagram

Photos taken with my iPad2 and Nikon D90.

 

grateful slice:  Finding comfort in the everyday and everything

Weekly Photo Challenge: Sunset

How to enjoy a sunset...

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I Send Two Sunsets

by Emily Dickinson

I send Two Sunsets —

Day and I — in competition ran —
I finished Two — and several Stars —
While He — was making One —
His own was ampler — but as I
Was saying to a friend —
Mine — is the more convenient
To Carry in the Hand —

Photos taken by a Nikon D90 (Boracay 2011) and a Canon Ixus (Boracay 2009).

grateful slice:  enjoying sunsets

Weekly Photo Challenge: Faces

A day at the museum and then some …

Hero with a Thousand Faces

Reflection

Profile

Transparent

Different Faces of Sabel

Flattering

Framed

Good things come in threes

Pinoy Music Video

from The New Yorker

THE MUSEUM OF STONES

by 

MARCH 26, 2007

This is your museum of stones, assembled in matchbox and tin,
collected from roadside, culvert, and viaduct,
battlefield, threshing floor, basilica, abattoir,
stones loosened by tanks in the streets
of a city whose earliest map was drawn in ink on linen,
schoolyard stones in the hand of a corpse,
pebble from Apollinaire’s oui,
stone of the mind within us
carried from one silence to another,
stone of cromlech and cairn, schist and shale, hornblende,
agate, marble, millstones, and ruins of choirs and shipyards,
chalk, marl, and mudstone from temples and tombs,
stone from the silvery grass near the scaffold,
stone from the tunnel lined with bones,
lava of the city’s entombment,
chipped from lighthouse, cell wall, scriptorium,
paving stones from the hands of those who rose against the army,
stones where the bells had fallen, where the bridges were blown,
those that had flown through windows and weighted petitions,
feldspar, rose quartz, slate, blueschist, gneiss, and chert,
fragments of an abbey at dusk, sandstone toe
of a Buddha mortared at Bamiyan,
stone from the hill of three crosses and a crypt,
from a chimney where storks cried like human children,
stones newly fallen from stars, a stillness of stones, a heart,
altar and boundary stone, marker and vessel, first cast, lode, and hail,
bridge stones and others to pave and shut up with,
stone apple, stone basil, beech, berry, stone brake,
stone bramble, stone fern, lichen, liverwort, pippin, and root,
concretion of the body, as blind as cold as deaf,
all earth a quarry, all life a labor, stone-faced, stone-drunk
with hope that this assemblage, taken together, would become
a shrine or holy place, an ossuary, immovable and sacred,
like the stone that marked the path of the sun as it entered the human dawn.
Read more http://www.newyorker.com/fiction/poetry/2007/03/26/070326po_poem_forche#ixzz1YPSHSeAl

All photos taken with a Nikon D90: Baguio (bencab museum), Bugsy’s and Kinneri’s living room. 2011

grateful slice: good days and great memories