Beautiful, odd, and sometimes breath-taking.
http://gizmodo.com/5672971/45-photos-from-clever-sometimes-unbelievable-persp...
And people ask why/how I got into photography.
Well, aside from having a professional photog father - this was back in
Russia, when "color photo" meant "tinted with aniline dyes and color
pencils" - I always had an appreciation of... let's not call it
"beauty", which would take us into an area where I don't feel like going
today, but "definition". A perception of a scene, or a view, that could
be cut off here and there, extracted from the world,
framed as a separate object that would still tell its story (or
sometimes, a story that I wanted told but that was unrelated to the
actual situation. This happens a lot, actually; a camera can lie, or
mislead, or lead you on a merry chase as much, or perhaps even more,
than a pen. But I digress.)
I got into it because I wanted to tell visual stories. Much later, I
expanded to the other kind - but the love of crafting a visual novel, or
even a short, pithy quote, remained: whether a tiger lily growing brave
and wild in the midst of a spring forest (where from? How? All alone in
a meadow of tall grass, with the morning dew still trembling on the
petals? I got soaked to the bone because I just had to lie down and get
that low perspective) or an old car on a freezing Seattle night,
distorted into a harsh, ghostly-gray, stretching-to-infinity, grainy
perspective with glaring lights by a wide-angle lens and black-and-white 32ASA PXP film pushed
to 1600ASA (the magic of doing your own film processing and enlargement)
- all these, uniquely my stories. My conversations with the world; both
the one that exists only in my head, and the one in which pedestrians
hurry by but sometimes pause, arrested by my images for a moment...
affected in some way.
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