I remember photographing the remarkable artist, Ali Kaaf.
It was 2009 and he was exhibiting in Taswir – Islamische Bildwelten und Moderne, Martin-Gropius-Bau, in Berlin, Germany.
Taysir Batniji, "Voyage impossible", Berlin
I was fortunate enough to photograph Taysir Batniji, in his"Voyage impossible" performance, in Berlin back in 2009.
Today he wrote, asking if he might use some of those images for an exhibition in France, in April this year. And it was so good to know that those photographs from that magical TASWIR Exhibition are still going out into the world.
Taswir - Univers iconographiques de l’Islam et modernité*, Martin-Gropius-Bau - Berlin, Germany
Sarah
When I was home I photographed almost all of my beautiful nieces. Sarah, and her twin, were 4 when I first met them ... I'm still dealing with how many years might have passed since then.
New Directions ...
And now we welcome the new year, full of things that have never been.
Rainer Maria Wilke
It's like that ... this year. It's full of the promise of things that have never been. Exciting things. And if I can just work through this winter thing, this frustration with ice and snow, the isolation of working alone and without colleagues or friends After 5 fabulous weeks back amongst my people, then all would be grand.
It's been a rough week, one where I picked up more responsibility than I like, cleaned the house more often than usual, and struggled to juggle all of the balls/projects I seem to have up in the air.
And I've been on a mission, trying to work out what is possible, which projects are feasible when it come to time and what might lead to employment ... the usual angst but with a clearer head.
I'm developing an exquisite project with a much-adored and respected friend ... to be unveiled as soon as it's ready to fly. And I'm interviewing the people in my neighbourhood here. The Flemish people I enjoy doing business with ... enjoy knowing, and I'm loving their stories. I need to pick up and start running Camera Journeys again ... but need to wait for the new direction to be confirmed, with dates and a place to book. There's a newsletter to get out soon ... there's stuff to be done and no more time can be spent on my knees, feeling sorry for myself.
It's been like that ... I needed to give myself a bit of a talking to. And it helped that I was reading Diana Baur's superb book titled 'Your Truth'. It's been the perfect companion through these challenging days. At only $5.99us, it's the best kind of read.
And the quote at the beginning ... I found that over on Cynthia Haynes website ... via the truly lovely Leonie Wise.
So, there's a vegetarian lasagne to bake now, and some bread too. I was going to make a pavlova for dessert but I think that might be raising the bar higher than I want to commit to longterm. I don't love housework. I'm more like Erica Jong in her poem Woman Enough.
I'll leave you with a favourite subject ... an image that I think best sums up the promise of things to come. Tot straks.
Neil Dawson, Ferns - Wellington, New Zealand
When I started work on Ferns I saw Ian Athfield's nikau palms as major markers of the Square. What I've aimed for is a sort of delicate intricacy that can float over the top of the palms so the two elements can work with each other.
What I wanted to do with my sphere was to extend Athfield's poetry by adding variety in the form of five different ferns because, of course, the basic form of the nikau is overlapping ferns.
No visit to Wellington city is complete without viewing Ferns, an exquisite sculpture by Neil Dawson.
It hangs 14 metres above you when you're standing in Civic Square and, like so many others, I find it exquisitely beautiful.
You can view more of Neil's work over on his website.
I miss my morning walks in New Zealand
Outside, there was that predawn kind of clarity, where the momentum of living has not quite captured the day. The air was not filled with conversation or thought bubbles or laughter or sidelong glances. Everyone was sleeping, all of their ideas and hopes and hidden agendas entangled in the dream world, leaving this world clear and crisp and cold as a bottle of milk in the fridge.
Reif Larsen, from The Selected Works of T.S. Spivet.
Meanwhile, I'm playing this song on repeat and up loud as I work here this morning.
And before I forget, I found the opening quote over on the marvellous Terri Windling's blog.
A glimpse from one of those early morning walks I took, back home in New Zealand ... Cooks Beach, on the Coromandel Peninsula ... sunrise.
