Manna-hata, the original name of Manhattan from the Lenape language, translates to the land of many hills, but I also heard it referred to as the island of drunkenness. Perhaps all that has happened on that small island if put together and condensed to one single film, it would be the strangest movie ever made. Magnetic city, it will always be that to me.
Like all art lovers, I have dreamt of the first time I would lay eyes on Florence. I read, I researched, I gazed at art, I dove into the renaissance, its music, its glorious artists, its astounding architecture, and I thought what I would finally meet would be so awe inspiring. But Florence exceded my expectations by leaps and bounds. I fell in love instantly, I was smitten, I walked around with a mouth gaping open and I could almost hear my camera giggling with delight. It was magical, enchanting, rich in history and golden. I try with this image to paint my feelings about Florence as I superimposed them on what my camera registered.
We rode camels into the south of Egypt and there we met the Nubians.
Nubia, the desert region between southern Egypt and northern Sudan, along the Nile river and home of the Noba people, is where I met this beautiful woman. A stark contrast to the almost inhuman and eerie remains of ancient Egypt, the Nubians are full of gentle smiles, simple ways, and colorful surroundings. Most of the homes were painted in light blue and the faces radiated a glowing brown. Heirs of old kingdoms and a complex relationship with ancient Egypt, the Nubians have a great air of mystery around them and their ancient culture.
The journey to Egypt was more a journey of feelings, sensing and of connection than that of collecting brain information. There were places and things in Egypt that let me ‘feel’ so much more than others. One of these beacons was the tomb of Tutankhamun.
The son of Akhenaten, king at age 9, reformer of religion from god Aten to god Amun, youngest Pharaoh of the 18th Dynasty of ancient Egypt, the young boy king was to die at age 18. There has been so much written and said about this enigmatic king and so much of it fails to meet logic.
One thing that was for me undeniable standing in the tomb where Tutankhamun’s mummy was found, despite it being a much simpler tomb than that of other kings, a soft and gentle cloud wrapped itself around the place and a great quiet, a stillness that I feel even now as I write this. The mummy was housed in 7 levels of gold and wood and it was discovered in 1922 in the Valley of the Kings by Howard Carter.
On a planet of duality, of dark and light, of day and night, of sunlight and moon light, there is an eternally repeating dance between two lovers. They long for each other desperately knowing that they will never be together longer than a single moment twice a day. It is a tragic epic of love, endless, where passion is never satisfied but only barely felt as a shiver, at dawn and at dusk. At dawn it rains tears of silver and at dusk it weeps a gold dust carried by the sandman day after day with a promise of meeting again the next day.
The night has no color, darkness has no glow, just maybe the sparkling stars and the smiling moon, reflecting and radiating sunlight.
Only the sun has such glory, the magic of painting all with color, with incandescent beauty, in breathtaking shades, with a great golden majesty.
Shanghai saw another glorious golden sunset today with the rare clear skies and fresh air that come with such a day, so I found myself drawn to witness the last moments of the golden show. I often see young Chinese people looking with such awe at the fast emergence of their largest and most popular city as if they cannot believe how fast their country is changing right in front of their young eyes. I can only imagine the amount of pressure exerted on the young generation of Chinese from their first school day until the time they take their place as columns in the People’s Republic of the future.
photo: Young man watching the sunset on the river promenade in Pudong (literally east of the river), overlooking the bund on the Puxi (west of the river) side across the river ‘Huang Pu”.
Today was a beautiful sunny, crisp and freezing day in Shanghai. I impulsively decided to take the ferry across the river from Pudong to Puxi (literally east of river to west of river) and took pictures from the bund looking onto Pudong skyline. It was exhilarating to say the least to witness a rare clear sunset and mix with so many people (wish I could show you the rest of the pictures, but one a day, right?)