A man was reading Rich Dad's Cashflow Quadrant. This was in May. He boarded at LRT Balintawak. Balding, of Chinese descent. He's wearing a flu mask, sweating in gray shirt and camouflage shorts. He looks kind enough to give a lady his seat by the time we reached Vito Cruz.
I thought of certain questions while watching Danielle Arbid's Un Homme Perdu (A Man Lost), and it was the same question I asked to one of the photographers I've encountered online: do you live by photography alone, or do you do sidelines?
He replied, by e-mail: "Yes, I make my living by photography alone, though it did take a bit of time to put things together as it were."
When Un Homme Perdu made it clear, through a thank-you remark, that it is inspired by the life of photographer Antoine D'Agata, member of the prestigious Magnum Photos group (they describe themselves as a "[w]ell-known cooperative agency with offices in London, Paris, Tokyo and New York, founded in 1947 by Henri Cartier Bresson, Robert Capa and others"), I found myself googling about D'Agata, about Magnum Photos, and suddenly, I was trading comments with my girlfriend as to what, really, is a good picture. (The gist of a good picture: it tells a story--a lot of them.)
I've been thinking about it for a while, having had dreams set in France, Syria, Yemen, even in Ethiopia (see the bulk of them here). I just have to save up for a Leica M9 or the Fujifilm X-Pro1.
|Alessandra Sangunetti |
Sans Titre (Untitled)
|Cristina Garcia Rodero|
The Leaning Tower of Pisa
The Shwe Pye Daw