With a pen and camera
New York City. A fantastic place that involves all your senses.
Fort Myers, FL. This second image is taken further south, about 1,250 miles [2,012 km] away. Here’s a destination where the senses aren’t always engaged. Let’s just say “relaxed” is a more fitting adjective. Finally, both photos were taken approximately around the same time of day: late afternoon.
Much of human history is peppered with a notion that when we don’t understand the unknown, we become defensive, fearful and hesitant. Granted the opposite is also true; we can become bold, curious and willing to take a chance. There’s a dichotomy between assumptions and reactions. The sentiments in the plaque attest to these notions. Just where you straddle this dichotomous line depends on how you define yourself.
A commencement address given a few years ago might shed some light on my post. It was delivered by Tim Minchin, an alum of the University of Western Australia. His career path is one created by an awareness for all things sentient. Minchin reminds me of my own college journey in liberal arts; I found such great value in what and how you feel in terms of art, music, literature, philosophy and all those disciplines of study that pre-dated this notion that mindfulness and empathy and emotional intelligence are somehow new constructs of our modern, western world.
In his comments, his last 3 points made in impression of sorts:
#7) define yourself with what you love, not what you hate; #9) respect people with less power than you, and #9) don’t rush…
Are you leaning more to one side or the other of that dichotomous line…?
Freedom. Choices in travel and direction. Sunlight and open air. Architectural beauty.
Incarceration. Small living space. A single window. Concrete walls. Iron bars.
Is our evolutionary advancement driven, in part, by the creation of things increasingly complex? This home sitting stoically somewhere in London, is the antithesis of a modern home. You won’t find computer-controlled lights, security systems, or appliances seamlessly linked to an app on your phone or tablet. Think simple yet purposeful. Venerated in stature, an edifice devoid of pretense.
Similarly, this pub distills [pun intended] an uncomplicated persona. How so? Nowhere did I see a roster of specialty beers, ales, lagers, mixed drinks, martinis and so on. Visually, there’s a lot to draw your attention, but nothing approaching sensory overload. Six taps of beer, the usual suspects in liquor and I’m sure a wine list practical in scale and price points.
Ditto for this uncomplicated yet tasteful-looking bar. I’m all for imaginative thinking, but that’s a far cry from thinking that the latest and greatest is something we need. Novelty can make many things interesting, but the fascination can quickly fade.
Today, we’re seeing even more complexity in an already complex, confounding arena that is automobile manufacturing. Case in point, the steering wheel of Formula 1 race cars. It’s essentially a computer with a realm of adjustments a driver can make while racing. Granted, an F1 car is an extremely specialized machine, but we’re already witnessing technology trickling down to passenger cars: paddle shifting, adjustable suspension rates, electronically controlled ride height, dual clutch transmissions, electronic steering, throttle control and more.
Growing complexity effectively commoditizes our thinking. Artificial intelligence is no longer science fiction and this growing reliance, this transference or programming of cognition to things inanimate is troubling. Interestingly, the late Dr. Stephen Hawking once said that the rise of AI is utterly frightening. Why? AI advancement and its integration to our day-to-day living will reshape civilization and redefine humanity.
Uncomplications.
Have a face-to-face conversation [not Skype, not Facetime] with someone you value and keep in high regard. Pen a letter or card [not an IM, email or Tweet]. To feel good—really good—do something that will make another person smile, even laugh. We give too much of our time to monitors, hand-held devices, playlists, news feeds and much less to each other.
Personal photography, the kind that takes you out and about, is often a solitary process. For many photographers that’s often the case. The image above is one of my [new] favorites in the category of “street photography.” For me it’s more accurate to call it “wandering photography.”
I typically have no mission or subject matter in mind. I essentially chase the light regardless of whether it’s on a city street or a country road.
Light, texture and shadow tug on me, asking me to stop and consider the possibility just before I press the shutter. You may not see what I see when I come across a play between light and textures. However, what you see and feel matters just as much.
Dr. Stephen William Hawking was an amazing human being for many reasons. His recent death made me think that the realm of possibilities in life are practically endless. He was proof positive that we should diss “dis-” in disability. We all have abilities in one form or another. I recently attended a gallery opening for CATA [Community Access to the Arts]. Through an innovation known as Art Realization Technologies [see image below], people with physical disabilities get to express their artistic abilities.
So then, here on canvas, each one attributed to a person, is their artistic awareness of their individual sentience. Expressive. Personal and self-aware. Fragile. Powerful. Confident, each canvas like the artist, one of a kind.
Pour ceux qui sont fatigués de l’hiver, laissez-moi partager avec vous un aperçu du printemps.
Chaque printemps, Smith College ouvre la porte de leurs maisons vertes. Pour un petit don, vous pouvez vous perdre dans la chaleur, la couleur et la promesse de la météo à venir.
La patience est nécessaire car les week-ends sont toujours occupés avec les visiteurs, proches et lointains.
In less than a week, the northeast USA got hit with another storm. While many are so tired of winter, many more are really done with snow and the cold and wanting spring to arrive. Now.
With close to 10 inches [25 cm] of wet, heavy, snow falling overnight, the next morning did not disappoint for people like me.
With nothing but stillness and silence all around me this morning, I thought of Dan Gurney, an incredible achiever by any standard, who said something to the effect of, “If you see something and can make it beautiful, but choose not to, what does that say about you?”
I have been to this place many times before, but not in winter. It’s called Tanglewood, the summer home of the Boston Symphony Orchestra. To walk the grounds void of flora, visitors and the orchestral sounds of a storied symphony is not only cathartic, but prone to nostalgia.
When you’ve visited a place numerous times, memories can fill many empty spaces. On a summer Sunday afternoon during the season, it’s not an uncommon quest to find a suitable open space on the lawns. But, you do find a spot, spread out your blanket, set-up your food and beverages and soak up the sun and air, all while music literally spans the grounds.
We may complain if not wonder about these temperature shifts one day to the next. I don’t mind; the shifts randomly change my office views, especially in the morning.
Carlo Centeno 