Leica M9 – Page 2 – Carlo Centeno

“My Better Self”

The wife-husband duo of Alaina Moore and Patrick Riley are the indie pop group, Tennis. The music and lyrics to “My Better Self” is a heart-felt, rhythmic poem about several things, not the least being how we struggle with words to bring clarity to how and what we feel. This is my favorite stanza, which also happens to be the bridge of the song:

If I don’t use words
Then each sound goes unheard
Utterly senseless without nouns and verbs
But symbols suggest they are fit to possess
A purposely function
That cannot be met

Chasing the Light v2

From another vantage point—in this case 25 floors up—light takes on a whole new feeling. Chasing the light from a high-rise slows me down because of all the details in front of me: the buildings, the shadows, the roads, the tracks, the river, the moving cars, etc. etc. etc. You can’t help but take your time scanning the vista in front of you. I took these in the late afternoon during a break from my desk and drudgery. They say getting light—outdoor light that is—is good for you.

I agree.

Feeling Juxtapositions

Is it possible to look at a color or series of colors that can make you feel cool or warm? The red potatos and yellow onions above suggest warmth. But do you feel warm or warmer? Probably not. They’re too abstract in its context for feeling or suggesting warmth. Instead, you might be thinking more about lunch or dinner. Being food items, your appetite might trigger thoughts of eating. Granted, red and yellow are warm colors, but our interpretation covers a gamut of possibilities, all dependent on the subject at hand.

Autumn is my favorite season. There’s an inverse relationship between the colors red, yellow and orange and that of temperature. As the season progresses, those warm colors emerge, some in magnificent fashion, but the days—and nights—grow cooler. I look forward to both the color and the much cooler days and nights.

I like the juxtapositions presented this time of year.

I love Fall’s palette of color, often greatly enhanced like a center-stage spotlight when the sun is either rising or falling.

One thing you cannot ascertain from any of these images is just how cold it was when the shutter was clicked. The first image, naturally, was taken at an indoor market. The others offered not only the colors shown, but a range of temperatures from way-too-cold-for-this-time-of-the year to downright balmy and pleasant.

I love this time of year…

The Art of Viewing Art

Some experts would have you believe that the absolute best way to view art, specifically flat works of art, is from a specific distance and at a specific angle. But there’s more to it than that. The shape, the color[s], the physical size, the subject at hand are a few among other qualities that shape our personal perception of whatever it is we’re looking at. While a 20-foot tall tapestry can express its grandeur at a distance, I’m more intrigued if not fascinated by the handiwork in its creation. I tend to move rather close to such objects in wonderment of the details and the craftsmanship involved.The exhibits at a museum, whether curated for a specific event or presention, or shown as part of a permanent collection, are nothing more than merchandise on display. I don’t want that comment to come off as something crass. I’m merely distilling this type of marketing in a simple form, commercial though it seems. Though this may be an oversimplification, compare the engagement to that of a department store. Consider a well-done display of business clothing or outdoor, adventure products. The items on display either spark your interest or do nothing at all. Much depends on what piques your attention and curiousity.But unlike the department store, we don’t produce our charge cards to aquire a canvas we sense could do something to a room that needs freshening up. Instead what we should do is open our sense of feeling and seeing. What stirs inside us? Does it feel visceral? Is it calming? Does it provoke agitation, confusion or consternation? Does it do anything at all?

What I can’t describe to anyone reading or viewing this post is the exact physical, literal details about the art: the weight of the paint, the roughness of a brush stroke, the depth of detail that borders 3-dimensional perception. As much as we’d like to say that we know a bit about everything and a lot more about something specific, that knowledge or memory cannot replace being physically in front of the art work.

When I see something on an Apple Retina display, I’m duly impressed with the detail and richness of color. And as nice as that is, the experience cannot replace being right there next to the object or being in front of a vista or being enveloped by the ambiance and a sense of place.

Perhaps this post should be retitled, What do you feel when you look at Art?

Training to be happy, or, Does your bank account size matter?

In the November 10th issue of the Wall Street Journal was an article, Can Money Buy Happiness? I’m referencing the print edition though as most would know, you can find the article online [I’ve linked it in the first sentence]. The article doesn’t offer any real surprises; I found no epiphanies in the story. I did however, analyze my own sense of personal happiness. Perhaps because of my age, I’m seeing a closer link to happiness through the relationships I have as opposed to wanting for things I don’t have.

So, what then, can I proffer in the guise of enlightenment? Here’s my short list:

What you have in your bank account is important, but the greater question is, what do you intend to do with it? I won’t disagree that having a lot of expendable money can be very nice, but money, like things, has an emphemeral quality.
Personal happiness must start with yourself. Self-evident, but I think we underestimate our own value, or own physical and emotional net-worth. In our age of “Reality TV,” celebrity adulation and toxic levels of narcissism , comparisons are inevitable. Other folks appear to be happier than me. Remember that apperances can be deceiving.
Training yourself to be happy [for me] starts and ends with a blessing. I think of so many who really cannot count on what I have: my health, my mobility, the use of all my senses, a roof over my head, 3 meals a day [often more], my friends, my family, a good sense of the person that I am or have come to be.
The accumulation of possessions will inevitably either go static or possess its owners, even both. If you pursue material things, by the time you get to your nth handbag, pair of shoes, latest digital device, fancy watch, or what have you, all the other prior possessions of similar ilk will spend more time dormant, even forgotten, in boxes within a drawer among other things also delegated to second [or third, fourth], place.

Whenever I get caught up in comparisons, or wanting to get something to increase my happiness, I think of this guy. We all should be more childlike; all too often, we’re just plain childish. Life should be, can be, much simplier and thus happier.