There is a special line of magic that only reveals itself at the time when the sun rises. Capturing it is a gift from all that makes this planet we fin ourselves on so incredibly beautiful.
Day 71 of 365~
Image taken last year on a sunrise walk in magical Myanmar
When I was a small child, we lived close to a very special monastery. In that monastery was a very magical well that always fascinated the dreamy child in me. We were told that the well was always empty but if you prayed and your prayers were accepted then the water flowed and you could have a drink of holy water. I was in utter awe of seeing my suspended bowl attached to a piece of rope sometimes come up full.
In my travels I saw several cultures revere water in different ways. On this riverbank in Myanmar locals considered this water a miracle cure for their ailments, the river Ganga in India is considered the ultimate destination for Hindu worshippers.
There is so much mystery in something as simple as water. We are 70% mystery ourselves!
Throughout my travels I have seen places where people felt content with who they are, blissfully living between earth and sky without want for anything more. That would seem to be the ultimate goal and the secret to happiness, being able to feel truly satisfied. These people seemed to be always doing something, busy, working, creating, in harmony with life somehow as they toil in it. Our modern world keeps dangling carrots in front of us to make us want more, with hardly any time to appreciate what we already have.
After a puzzling 2016 to say the least, when almost nothing conformed to the ‘norm’ of life as we expect it to be, from world affairs, to weather, and strange phenomena; 2017 approaches and I find myself moving towards it with caution, deep thought, care, apprehension and hope for a shift towards higher standards and a world with saner priorities.
Wishing you all a peaceful transition and a bright new year!
Some places on our planet are just breathtakingly beautiful, but with Inle it’s not just that, it’s people, the light, the birds, the gentle nature of the dream like landscape; they all come together to make a paradise you wish you never have to leave. All I can think of leaving it is how and when to come back.
Boracay, a green and white gem in the middle of a blue sea, blessed with a panorama of clouds and a ongoing theater of sky and water on and impossibly large canvas, is not easy to travel to. Almost like giving birth, painful as difficult, but still you would do it again and being there makes the journey all worth it.
A Â 90 minute drive from the bustling Shanghai Metropolis, lies one of several old water towns where life carries on with a completely different rhythm. Water has this way of slowing things life down to a gentle meander, and it magically transforms reality into gentler ripples of dream like visions. Blue and soft in nature, it allows for a place in oneself of deep contemplation. The old walls seem as thought they are speaking to the visitors, telling tales of times that have been and predicting the tales that will inevitable come to be.
All images taken with iphone 7, edited with snapseed.
Ireland is one of those places on earth where time plays by its own rules. It can not be confined to any human rules and it waxes and wanes as it sees fit. As soon as I set foot on this magical emerald Isle, my wonders about time, space, movement and change began brewing. It took me to untapped corners of my mind where life borders on the magical. From that I wondered about photography, the movement we capture, the change we try to portray as artists and the power inside the image when time can be portrayed.
If you have never been to Ireland, I just have one word to say:
It’s a funny thing, time. I remember as a child not minding time at all; being and living in the moment; existing in a plane where time had no say in my business. Then slowly things begin to change. Time would no longer allow itself to be ignored. It wants to assert its managerial role in the affairs of my human existence. Freedom is replaced by deadlines, strict appointments and duties to be fulfilled on ‘time’. But little does time know that I remember what it was like to be free, and that I can escape to that place where I kept my childhood alive and well. Don’t tell time…