Singers age, but music stays,
Forever young in endless days.
Yet photographs, they bear the trace,
Of their time, in every space.
Though you attempt to abstract the scene,
The era’s mark will still be seen,
Like gravity, it binds it tight,
To its time, with all its might.
Hey there, I’m Little White, a clever pup who loves lounging on the couch and watching the world go by. Recently, my owner took me out for a sneaky stroll to the streets, and wow—what a treasure trove of photo opps! Tonight, I squinted out the window, streetlights twinkling, as the night turned those cyclists and motorbike riders into my very own “moving stars.” Check out that pic—folks zooming by on bikes and scooters, racing through the intersection like they’re late for the next big adventure… or maybe just trying to beat the traffic light! I couldn’t help but wonder—humans, with all that speed, would you need me to lick your bruises if you wipe out?
The real laugh, though, is that dinosaur balloon tied to the fence at the crossroad! It’s slouched over like it’s saying, “Hey, pup, I’m lazier than you—wind blows, and I just sway. Pretty cool, huh?” I stared at it, nearly cracking up—clearly the inflatable “roadblock star” is putting on a deep, thoughtful act. The cars whiz by like a shiny river, red and green lights flashing, while people hustle through life—some grinning, some frowning. I come and go here, watching them live, laugh, and worry, and it’s like I’ve picked up a bit of life’s meaning myself. Maybe tomorrow I’ll nudge my owner to get me a camera to snap these street “actors”—though, of course, the real star should be me!
Winter is nearly gone now, though the cold lingers, a faint sharpness in the air, and the city seems to carry its own kind of chill, distant and reserved. I’ve been careful, I suppose, in keeping myself apart, a little different from others, though I hardly notice how it happens—how my eyes catch the small, strange things that slip through the cracks of the everyday. This evening, the sun hung low, its light broken by a thick seam of clouds, and it felt almost unreal, like something from a film—perhaps that black hole in Interstellar, silent and immense. I reached for my camera, quickly, as if I could trap it, that fleeting moment when the world seemed to pause and whisper something I couldn’t quite grasp.
Photographers in this world always see things differently. But those who embrace black-and-white photography are, without question, set further apart.
In this world, some people don’t understand black-and-white photography and can’t grasp how to capture it. Others understand it but lack the courage to explore its depths.
Nowadays, when you can grab almost anything from the supermarket, I’ve noticed how little I interact with nature anymore. My most recent “nature moment” came from peeling back the rind of an orange – that bright citrus scent lingered on my hands like bottled sunshine. Realizing this, I immediately reached for my camera. Maybe you can catch a hint of its scent through the image.
It’s hard to believe, but two years ago, everyone wore a mask! Now, many people have gotten into the habit of wearing masks, and of course, more people don’t wear masks anymore. Sometimes, what happened two years ago seems like two days ago. Time really does fly!
Nowadays, it seems that what people lack is not photographic equipment but the comfort of walking alone. I want nothing more than to carry my camera under the sun and enjoy the mere sound of the shutter. With the Leica M8 in my hands and the Voigtlander 15mm F4.5 Super Wide – Heliar lens, it was a beautiful day.
Some people see street photography as a series of decisive moments. But when I’m out shooting, I realise I have no control over when and where my images will appear. I can’t predict which corner is going to pop up, and I can’t arrange for a moment to happen just right. In such a situation, I just have to choose the right camera, lens and exposure. The rest is down to luck.
I really like the look of grain in photos, especially in black and white. I like coffee in water, too. From analog film to digital, they’re my old friends.
