Just thought I’d take a minute to say that it’s been a little over a year since I started this blog. And it has more than 270 entries. Not bad! (First entry here)
Happy birthday Towards New Seas!
I’m glad that I kept it up. It’s a kind of discipline. Some days I don’t really feel like taking pictures but I’m sure in the end I’ll be glad to have been diligent. This is such a special time in my life and it’s worth documenting. I’m not sure how much longer I will do it though. I think as long as I travel. I’m getting the itch to focus on more challenging creative work – not online based.
After a year of off/on nomadism I’m taking time to reflect on what i’ve accomplished and what i want to accomplish in the future. Reassessing my new year’s resolutions from 6 months ago. I’ve only got 6 months left to honour my promises to myself and maybe add a couple more on the list. I’ve been slacking on the reading department but been ok with the “stop buying new things”. Still working on my weightloss and not doing too bad.
I’m adding to my 2013 objectives the following: stay away from social networks – I find that they are so time consuming but also leave me feeling strangely frustrated or restless. I don’t know that I want to seek other people’s approval, so why look for a “like” or attention in that way? I’ve been finding it very alienating in time.
Listen to my instinct more is another one, and by that I mean to stay away from toxic people or relationships. I don’t want to be around or give the time of day to people I don’t trust, or like. I enjoy my own company so much and that time with myself can be so productive, that I must never engage or give quality time to the wrong people. Usually the answer lies in the feeling in my gut and the days when I was ignoring that warning sign are over.
Give more time to my ideas. Spend more time alone doing something worthwhile. I have a lot of good ideas and must respect them, allow them to be.
Right now I’m in Byron Bay, continuing my trip. It’s really good to be on the road again, out of my comfort zone. It makes my brain work faster and better.
Now here is an image I love as a celebration of one year of consistency and image-collection.
I was really impressed by how New Zealand has managed, more than anywhere else I’ve been, this wonderful mix of indigenous populations – the Maoris – and the british immigrants. White people have embraced a lot of the Maoris traditions and you can sense the admiration for the Maori Haka and warrior spirit. There are elements of the Maori culture everywhere and at Te Papa (the Museum of New Zealand) the Maori language is first before english. There seems to be a mixity that Australia, for example, doesn’t have, as far as I can see. It’s inspiring to see that it can actually happen.
The landscapes are majestic and extremely varied. The fact that it’s a volcanic island make it very different from Australia. Also I was imagining it very green and hilly – which it is – but I had no idea of how big the beach culture was. There are gorgeous and wild beaches everywhere.
It was a wonderful trip, I liked everything we did from kayaking to skydiving and exploring the caves. I’d never done an organised trip before and I’m glad I tried something new because I enjoyed it and will do it again. It was also lovely to meet Marie, Jennifer, Kiana and Sally.
E noho ra New Zealand!
“In the midst of life we are in death. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”
I think the reason why, and the only reason why I take pictures is to capture a moment of beauty. It’s like getting a testimony, a proof, a trace – anything that will keep that moment alive because soon none of this will be. The people, the places, the things we did, the way we felt – all of that will pass and I want to keep tokens of that.
Basically for me taking a picture is an act of love. It’s attempting to take what I see and display it back into the world with an extra coat that screams “I LOVED THIS!”. If I take your picture it means I love you and you will probably never hear me say those words as I become more a woman of actions than a woman of words.
When I was a child my dad wasn’t very cuddly but he would always take pictures of us. My brothers and I have lots of pictures of us as kids. Same with my maternal grand-father. I don’t really remember him but I know he would always take pictures of us and also film us – therefore he loved us. To an extent that’s why I try to take lots of pictures of my nephew and niece because childhood memories disappear like snow in the morning sun. After the dream of fifteen years of childhood passes (who ever really remembers their childhood accurately? it’s such a mysterious time) then these pictures will stay and they will mean something, if not to the world (i’m not that delluded!) but at least to the people involved.
I’m not an outstanding photographer but I’m not trying to be. My pictures are ok, some even good – must admit that the technology has a lot to do with it: with a good camera and lense it’s easy to take nice pictures. I don’t have the ambition to create classic or universal pictures, I just want to remember.
This is why I struggle to understand photographers who only do commissioned work. I have a lot of photographers around me and I do not understand the appeal of photographing products, bags, bottles or even models. I find that exercise so soulless. The only people I ever want to photograph are my friends, my family, possibly even strangers but meaningfully; and the only places – places I love.
Funnily enough through the years I have done many portraits of my “professional” photographer friends but yet they never took a single picture of me. I wonder if that’s because I wasn’t pretty enough or lucrative enough or not loved enough.
Have spent the last 10 days struggling with back problems, so haven’t been out taking pictures at all, nor have I written very much here as sitting down hurts.
But I’ve watched my first russian movie (with subtitles) the classic Ирония судьбы, или С легким паром and this outstanding documentary on the french journalists’ aquaintances with power. (ok ok there might have been an episode of Mad Men or two as well)
Also added Paul Nizan to my amazon wish list.
On a happy note, after 3 trips to the chiropractor things seems to be getting better on the back side of things.
Being bed ridden always makes me appreciate my health more.
“Dieu se rit des hommes qui déplorent les effets dont ils chérissent les causes” – Bossuet
I love skype appointments. It’s like meeting for a coffee – but from 16 950 kilometers away !
(oh and I can stay in my pyjamas)
Been in bed for the last 2 days with a painful back, so I watch a documentary about Marina Abramovitch.
I have a memory of watching the news when the IRA had attempted to kill Margaret Thatcher in 1984 and my parents realizing with disbelief that we had been staying right next to that hotel on that same year while on holiday in Brighton. I was so so impressed. Wow. It was a very big deal to me. I was 5, almost 6 years old.
Today I am feeling disgusted by all the people who rejoice in her death. You should never rejoice at somebody’s death, no matter how much of an political adversary this person was. It makes me sick. What cowardice to stab a dead body, so petty. It’s like kicking somebody when they’re down on their knees, when they’re weak and that you risk nothing. Where’s the courage and humanity in that? What world do we live in that makes this ok?
Piece of iron hand carved by my paternal grand-father Louis Jouan.
He was a creative guy… Isn’t this a great font?
