Morgaga’s Little Truths & Little Deaths

I miss this terribly. Sitting at Starbucks by a full window with the sun coming through. A green field beside me. Hot Venti-sized Peppermint Mocha and buttery apple turnover at hand while typing lazily, thoughts to myself, on my blog. Satisfied sigh.

I think I need more moments like this. Where I’m satisfied and happy. Where I’m not thinking about work but about what I want to do with my life. And then to do it. Dig in. With gusto and with my hands all dirty.

2011, I’m ready for you.

There’s a pattern I see around me.

All too often, someone will start a conversation and the other will just go, “huh?” The first person then goes ahead and repeats himself and then it goes forward. Given the scenario takes place in a noisy market or a busy roadside, I can understand why the initial starter got lost. But when this takes place in a quiet cafe or a spa, I wonder why the listener responds with a, “huh?” Especially when they have obviously heard it, by responding to the first while he is repeating himself.

Is it all too much a reflex on our part?

So this Japanese gentleman comes up to our shoppe doorstep and starts taking pictures of Dora with his vintage Rollei. An exiting customer provides the chance for Dora to escape from the unwanted paparazzi and she slinks in. Aforesaid silver-haired gentleman asks us for permission to enter the shoppe to carry on his mission and we gladly let him, charmed by his quiet determination. Kakak the natural model perched by the stairs, the obvious target for many a public photogrpaher when she was outside but he paid her no heed. Instead, he spends 5 mins pursuing his elusive subject, before she returned outside and he went at it for another good 15 minutes. Shortly after he finished, he opened the door to thank us as well as to let us know that if he got good shots, he will pass us a copy.

I haven’t met a photographer in a long time. A real one who asks permission before taking pictures when he might be in a private space. A real one who pursues his subject, intent on getting his perfect shot even if he needs half an hour. A real one who sees and brings out the beauty of the subject, because he connects with it, not because he’s just trying to capture something interesting for his portfolio.

Accessible technology has given many the ability to be aspiring photographers. And I don’t begrudge them that. But the culture of the photographer and their integrity may be eroding away, as I see teenagers busily snapping at everything and anything that can possibly be deemed as beautiful.

Skill is quickly replaced by chance, as the technologically-enable amateurs sweep the area in their hunt for something that will make people go, “Wow that’s a nice shot.” You don’t call a rampaging machine-gun-toting soldier a sniper do you? Or give him a markman badge. What happened to the story? And what about the connection of the photographer to his subject and a picture’s ability to evoke something more emotional than visual?

They sometimes forget that to be a photographer, you just have to enjoy all aspects of the craft and produce pictures which you can call your own. Not start a production line of snapshots, hoping to filter them down and get a few shots that can showcase their so-called talent.

The gentleman returned today as promised, Rollei in hand and eagerly taking some more shots of lazy Dora asleep on my shoes. He gifted us with 8 square shots of the cats. They are truly amazing stuff, showing a finesse in composition and foreground-background interaction. But at the end of the day, what also made him a true photographer, is the fact that he is sharing these images because he thought it would be as meaningful to us as it was to him.

Thank you.

…have to breathe. My head is spinning and my heart feels like a forgotten, wrongly-typed out script, thrown at the bin. And missing it. ARGH. I need to gain a foothold again.

I loved the way the light moved in your eyes, and how your smile stopped my heart. But why did untrue words fall from your lips, rendering me senseless and apart?

When the last breath leaves and all is still, do you think one’s sheer desire alone can wish something back to life?

… are only good on wallpapers, fabrics and other design materials.