Saturday, 5 May 2012


I could not imagine how life was with without. Being aware that there was a time before I could not imagine. No liberation as hoped, but imprisoned. That’s a joke. I know but it still feels like that sorry.

My I pod disappeared. My camera. Because I am stupid, because I am stupid. I cannot see any other answer. Does not matter if stolen or lost.

I always thought it would be gone. In some points, shooting out of the train door, flying away because of to high wind movement, whatever. But not waiting in women waiting hall. Not then. Definitely.

My life was sin the iPod. I wrote, I took imagines, my music. Even my memories. And reminders.

I have another camera, yes, but it is not the same. The way I move, think shoot, depends on the camera, the type. Each camera is used for something specific. Exchange abilities does not happen.

Earlier times it was about what you make out of the picture. The perfect frame. Composition, lightening everything has to follow certain principles. The camera the starting tool. Most of them kind of the same.

Nowadays you have big, small, tiny. Digital, analog, fancy, flash automatic, macro, whatever.

Some of the pictures look exactly the same. Every photojournalist ahs a 5d, canon. Or Nikon. Most of them the 35 mm lense. Beautiful quality. Looking at the newspaper they look al the same, beautiful quality. The framing nothing special. All the same. People say.

70 years ago, you had parameters, as I said. Perfect composition, black and white. It was not about the photographer, the photograph, perfect one. counted.

Then Robert frank came, and with him not just the imperfect disturb way of looking but also the photographer as an icon. Not just a handcraft.

I want to stand out with my photographs, wanna be something special. Just because it is me. The image become to an identification, the 35 mm lese not enough. Not even for 1500 dollar in cash.

I miss my camera. I had a style, got identified, could express myself.

Not such a sad story, honestly. My camera is gone. That’s it. not my life, not even closest. but still.

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