leica

Showing 5 posts tagged leica

Tunnel Vision (Leica M7, Fujichrome Provia 100F) Her name was like an echo. Every time someone called her they could see how vastly it travelled inside her hollow self, not bouncing until it reached the bottom of darkness she had endless amounts of. She was bored. Bored of life, bored of redundancy, bored of familiar faces. But she never attempted anything different. Like it had encompassed her so gradually, like an hour glass with an endless bottom - so that even when she was engulfed in boredom, she was oblivious in it’s grainy texture. She walked along the same route to get home. The same route she embarked on for the past ten years. It was only this overly humid night, that she realized that only the sounds of her footsteps surrounded her through the tunnel. She took a deep breath and yelled out her name and watched as it warped old structure. She gasped, taken aback by her own spontaneity. She looked around at the still empty tunnel; finally hearing the sounds of the hourglass. Conversations by the Window Seatis an ongoing creative collaboration between Adrian Seah and Romila Barryman, with photos and writing themed around a common love of travel and discovery. View other Conversations by the Window Seat or read more of Romila’s writing at her blog Daydreamsonlooseleafpaper High-res

Tunnel Vision

(Leica M7, Fujichrome Provia 100F)

Her name was like an echo. Every time someone called her they could see how vastly it travelled inside her hollow self, not bouncing until it reached the bottom of darkness she had endless amounts of. She was bored. Bored of life, bored of redundancy, bored of familiar faces. But she never attempted anything different. Like it had encompassed her so gradually, like an hour glass with an endless bottom - so that even when she was engulfed in boredom, she was oblivious in it’s grainy texture. She walked along the same route to get home. The same route she embarked on for the past ten years. It was only this overly humid night, that she realized that only the sounds of her footsteps surrounded her through the tunnel. She took a deep breath and yelled out her name and watched as it warped old structure. She gasped, taken aback by her own spontaneity. She looked around at the still empty tunnel; finally hearing the sounds of the hourglass.

Conversations by the Window Seatis an ongoing creative collaboration between Adrian Seah and Romila Barryman, with photos and writing themed around a common love of travel and discovery.

View other Conversations by the Window Seat or read more of Romila’s writing at her blog Daydreamsonlooseleafpaper

Inhale. Exhale. (photo taken with Leica M7, 50mm Summicron, Kodak 100VS) But minds can’t be blank. Neither can hearts. Neither can school yards, or kitchens; once in a while you stumble across some who are. Blank. He used to put up empty canvases in his room. For a brief moment he could feel his mind breathe. But it was silly they told him. Things were meant to be filled. Of course they were, he thought with eyebrows raised, like passports and pages, so they may turn to books; like lady bug wings; like starry skies. But hearts and minds were not things. How peculiar, he would ponder. How dangerous it became; as time moved on he forgot. As life moved on he deteriorated. His heart, that is. His mind. Him. Among each traffic light, each lamp post, each signage. Finger Lickin’ G- 50% OFF Furniture Tod- Make a Better Deci-   Perhaps it was the black background that spotlighted the contrast. Perhaps it was the little boy in him that stayed ignited. But he had to gasp for air at the sight of the blue. He irises drank the view at the glimpse of blank. He stopped the car. He watched the plane pass by, the birds on occasion. He breathed. Conversations by the Window Seatis an ongoing creative collaboration between Adrian Seah and Romila Barryman, with photos and writing themed around a common love of travel and discovery. View other Conversations by the Window Seat or read more of Romila’s writing at her blog Daydreamsonlooseleafpaper High-res

Inhale. Exhale.

(photo taken with Leica M7, 50mm Summicron, Kodak 100VS)

But minds can’t be blank. Neither can hearts. Neither can school yards, or kitchens; once in a while you stumble across some who are. Blank. He used to put up empty canvases in his room. For a brief moment he could feel his mind breathe. But it was silly they told him. Things were meant to be filled. Of course they were, he thought with eyebrows raised, like passports and pages, so they may turn to books; like lady bug wings; like starry skies. But hearts and minds were not things. How peculiar, he would ponder. How dangerous it became; as time moved on he forgot. As life moved on he deteriorated. His heart, that is. His mind. Him. Among each traffic light, each lamp post, each signage. Finger Lickin’ G- 50% OFF Furniture Tod- Make a Better Deci-

 

Perhaps it was the black background that spotlighted the contrast. Perhaps it was the little boy in him that stayed ignited. But he had to gasp for air at the sight of the blue. He irises drank the view at the glimpse of blank. He stopped the car. He watched the plane pass by, the birds on occasion. He breathed.

Conversations by the Window Seatis an ongoing creative collaboration between Adrian Seah and Romila Barryman, with photos and writing themed around a common love of travel and discovery.

View other Conversations by the Window Seat or read more of Romila’s writing at her blog Daydreamsonlooseleafpaper

The Next Step (photo taken with Leica M7, 50mm Summicron, Kodak 100VS) It was like every time she moved her body ached. The way your leg feels in the first few seconds after it falls asleep. The way wounds feels after the stiches come out and the threads run between each skin puncture before escaping. If you’ve never travelled, heartbreak is the most severe emotion the body and mind can take. If you have, then you know there is no pain greater than wanderlust. The intense craving for culture shock; the desire for conversations on a unique wavelength; the depression wanting the world embeds.  It’s a funny thing, the redundancy of life. The sun that hits off the rain showered glass holds the world together the same way sunsets paint seas on every corner of continents, but there’s a slight variation that thins the thread. Humidity fails to stand beside dry Canadian winters or summertime Christmas in Australia. Cherry blossoms don’t smell as sweet without green tea seeping off in the distance. The nostalgia was enough to pick up her phone. The ringing stopped. ‘Hi’ she let out nervously, booking her plane ticket without another breath. Life is much more exciting when you’re not ready for the next step. Conversations by the Window Seatis an ongoing creative collaboration between Adrian Seah and Romila Barryman, with photos and writing themed around a common love of travel and discovery. View other Conversations by the Window Seat or read more of Romila’s writing at her blog Daydreamsonlooseleafpaper High-res

The Next Step

(photo taken with Leica M7, 50mm Summicron, Kodak 100VS)

It was like every time she moved her body ached. The way your leg feels in the first few seconds after it falls asleep. The way wounds feels after the stiches come out and the threads run between each skin puncture before escaping. If you’ve never travelled, heartbreak is the most severe emotion the body and mind can take. If you have, then you know there is no pain greater than wanderlust. The intense craving for culture shock; the desire for conversations on a unique wavelength; the depression wanting the world embeds. 

It’s a funny thing, the redundancy of life. The sun that hits off the rain showered glass holds the world together the same way sunsets paint seas on every corner of continents, but there’s a slight variation that thins the thread. Humidity fails to stand beside dry Canadian winters or summertime Christmas in Australia. Cherry blossoms don’t smell as sweet without green tea seeping off in the distance.

The nostalgia was enough to pick up her phone.

The ringing stopped.

‘Hi’ she let out nervously, booking her plane ticket without another breath.

Life is much more exciting when you’re not ready for the next step.

Conversations by the Window Seatis an ongoing creative collaboration between Adrian Seah and Romila Barryman, with photos and writing themed around a common love of travel and discovery.

View other Conversations by the Window Seat or read more of Romila’s writing at her blog Daydreamsonlooseleafpaper

Flower blooming in winter | Mitaka, Japan 2012 This was taken with Leica 50mm Summicron and NEX 5N, along with Hawk’s helicoid adaptor for reducing the minimum focussing distance of the rangefinder coupled Summicron to more usable distances. I love how this lens renders such creamy and painterly bokeh, and very glad that its seeing much more use now with my NEX 5N than it ever did with my Leica M7. See my other photos of Japan! High-res

Flower blooming in winter | Mitaka, Japan 2012

pic leica 50 summicronThis was taken with Leica 50mm Summicron and NEX 5N, along with Hawk’s helicoid adaptor for reducing the minimum focussing distance of the rangefinder coupled Summicron to more usable distances. I love how this lens renders such creamy and painterly bokeh, and very glad that its seeing much more use now with my NEX 5N than it ever did with my Leica M7.

See my other photos of Japan!

Steve McCurry: A Retrospective by Leica

Steve McCurry is one of my personal photographic heroes. In fact, it was probably his work and work of others like him in the National Geographic magazines I read as a kid that first got me interested in exploring and probing the world we live in and recording it in photographs.

A true master of his craft, Steve McCurry has travelled the world over, and capturing from it the raw fragments of humanity. He is rightly and most deservedly the recipient of the Leica Hall of Fame award for 2011.