Climbing That Gate Again ...

There are mornings when I wander back through the city, feeling something like happiness.  It's not that the pollution has disappeared, it rarely disappears.  And it doesn't seem to be weather-dependent, as I've noted this 'feeling' on drizzly misty mornings too ... no, it must be some random thing, like the stars aligning someplace else. 

Perhaps it's partially about whatever I'm reading.  At the moment I'm moving between C.K. Stead's novel Mansfield, and Piers Moore Ede's All Kinds of Magic.  Both are rereads ... old favourites that live on the red shelves next to my desk here.

I also have Marsha Mehran's Pomegranate Soup underway ...

All these books probably say something about my state of being at the moment.  I'm a little restless perhaps.

This month and the previous, I have spent time with the loveliest families, attempting to capture something of what I see when each of them  come together. 

Then Sunday evening I slipped into the abyss that is a Monday, 9am dental appointment.  A broken tooth was involved and I was a bit nervous but my dentist ... she's the best that I've ever had and so there's always the confusion of catching up with someone I very much enjoy seeing.

It went well.

I'm transcribing interviews from those days spent in Italy.  And processing photographs too.  I'm cleaning and cooking ... and failing to cook and clean too.  I'm losing and finding myself via books and good movies.  I'm waiting to fly. 

I'm back in Genova at the end of this month ...

Climbing that gate again.

Things Found ...

I use Facebook.  It works for clients who want to come along for the ride, it works as a place to escape for a few minutes when I'm alone here at the desk for days on end. 

And I find and share things there but they're lost, quite fast, as that world scrolls through the days, weeks and months.

So I might start noting my best finds here once a week. 

I loved this story about two anonymous artists known as Dangerdust.  Art students who, once a week, sneak in a create a chalk masterpiece at Columbus College of Art and Design.  There's an interview with them over here, one where they retain their anonimity.  

Jaron Gilinsky writes an important article titled When a Kidnapped Journalist is a Freelancer.  Freelancers are often people driven to tell the story, capture a truth, however this was sobering: 'Like most freelancers, Ricardo went into war zones sans insurance. The reason has more to do with cold, hard economics than with bravado.

Photos rarely sell for the price of a train ticket. Videos rarely sell for more than the cost of a plane ticket. Trusted insurance policies that cover death, terrorism, kidnapping, extortion, etc. cost thousands of dollars over the course of a year. For the majority of freelancers who are living hand to mouth, such policies are simply unaffordable.'

I was introduced to the work of Tyler Knott, author, poet, photographer and artist.  A visit to his website felt like a rather lovely gift to myself.

I rediscovered one of Germany’s most famous anti-Nazi heroes, Sophie Scholl.  She was born in 1921 and while she was a university student in Munich, she and her brother, Hans formed a non-violent, anti-Nazi resistance group with several friends.  They called it the White Rose. The group ran a leaflet and graffiti campaign calling on their fellow Germans to resist Hilter's regime.

At her execution, Scholl made this final statement: "How can we expect righteousness to prevail when there is hardly anyone willing to give himself up individually to a righteous cause. Such a fine, sunny day, and I have to go, but what does my death matter, if through us thousands of people are awakened and stirred to action?"

There's a movie.

And that reminds me, I discovered a website called A Mighty Girl.  Having grown without the influence of strong role models this seems like a gift to pass around.

Then there was the story of The Missing in the MediterraneanEvery month, hundreds in north Africa and the Middle East leave by boat to seek new lives in Europe. But many vanish without trace.  Immigrants are very much a political football in our time but I suspect that many of those violently opposed to freedom of movement in times of danger and difficulties would be first to flee countries where violence and poverty reign.

The New Zealand Movie, Pa Boys, is finally out on dvd.  I've been desperate to view it but so very stuck on the other side of the world.  I just need to order it now.  They're also running a talent search for unpublished music for the sequel.  I'm rapt.

There is so much more but this is more than enough for a first listing of things I've read and enjoyed. I hope there's something for you too.

 

A Hangi in Belgium

I thought I could be tough on what was 'good enough' with this documentary-style series capturing the Hangi. But I'm finding that I want to include almost everything because all the photographs seem important to the story.

I realised that it's not just about cooking food in the ground, it's about the community that forms as people work together. And it was about the people who came and went during the process - it was kind of tidal, with different folk appearing at different stages.

But most of all, it was about the people who worked on it - those on a tour who saw help was needed and climbed into it with their experience from 'back home in NZ', with their strength, despite wearing boat shoes or white sneakers.

In the end it was all about the feeling surrounding the process ... it was quite staggeringly beautiful.

At the moment, I'm not sure one photograph captures it all. It's a story to be told with many photographs.

A Day ...

I'm off to Norway in August.  There's a photography workshop to run for the rather extraordinarily talented woman who is Ren Powell.

And there was an invitation to a Hangi too, in London.

However there are 137 documentary photographs from this day of labouring, 137 that I a really pleased with ... although there are 'quite some' to go.  I think it might be another night and day here in the chair.

Meanwhile ... I love this image of the Maori flag firmly planted in a Flemish field ...

And now, to cook some Persian chicken for dinner.