The banal and sparkling

An old man walked in to the same café I was sitting in early in the morning. He came sitting next to me and blew his nose into a tissue and placed the tissue on my tray. I didn’t mind, I had finished my tea. He stood up and left. Thought nothing of it, just ok. After a while the same man came back wiping his nose, blew his nose and placed the tissue on my tray. He went out and came back with a tissue. He placed the used tissue on my tray. I asked him what he was doing. There was no reply. He left hastily like he was caught doing something embarrassing. I thought I got rid of him when he disappeared behind the corner of the building. He came back sitting opposite to me and pulled his purse from his pocket. He had a five euro bill in and he placed it on the table, then the coins which he put in groups with care. He drank a glass of water with one gulp buying nothing. He put his money back in the purse and on the table again in the same way as before. Repetition of this action was performative and a story, a bit scary in a place where people avoid doing wrong movements not to raise any suspicion, avoid looking out of the ordinary and lacking. To blend in and in a weird way stay invisible is what seems normal. It is desirable to be in control, having errands to do in rational way, know how to behave in a café, having a task and plan, that all there is structured and we know how. The behaviour, the look, the walk, sitting down and having a snack, going somewhere else with destination and purpose. Anything breaking this order strikes out, especially all without a rational purpose.

It was like a game, an attempt to be part of the banal and in the same time not being able to, there is a trauma and crack there. The old man made me look what he went through and he was trying to make a contact. His action which had no other sense, purpose or meaning in this environment seemed childish still having something to say, about the condition of the environment and his. The glass was empty and clean as were his orderly placed things in learned strange order over and over again. He was not hugely frightening just accidental and shaken. A mime and play he played and reasons there were left me grasping as he was performing for me. Had I noticed if he hadn’t reached out for my tray, possibly not.

A couple, what happens there? They look at each other with silence, with pause which is painful to watch, uncomfortable as if they were parting forever. Woman had her back towards me but I could still feel her embarrassment and awkwardness in a situation which seemed to last although they were not.

Public place carpet, 2008

Something about damaged photos, choosing of topics.

There is something to be rejected in ‘perfect photos’ as they may look too good to be real. Staged, rehearsed and paraded photos where there is something enjoyable and nice is to cheer us up. Photography is much used in this purpose. It is a mood creator taking the viewer somewhere and good as such, with a purpose. We have stuck ideas of what is perfection and what is beautiful, how it looks, as it is a look and desired. Of course we must define what is perfection, what is the aesthetics of perfection. A perfect photo is a window to a lovely world and to personality. Perfection is to know what one wants, it is a goal to which there is a road. We will notice it very often is a matter of taste and tradition and what we are used to seeing, what we like, what moves us. How much do we dare to push buttons of viewers? What does rejection tell?

We must show others that we know what is good. What do we want to tell via preferences and the medium is what is interesting. What are you telling me and why. Perfection is in part a fantasy. Is it yours, do you own it or are you reaching out for it? It is personal, somehow naive, shallow and a thing to be had, thing of vanity and making a gap between. Perfect photos uplift the photographer to a illustrator of dreams and achievements, that something is exact, right and in order and the maker of photos must know something of order and organising. The photographer is the hero owning the medium. There is heroism in photography which is itself disturbing. Sizes, prices, glows and sounds of cameras are a thing and sight and matter of awe themselves. I am interested in what is the edge there too much to take and accept. What is unacceptable in terms of photography? Is it ugliness, greyness, fuzziness, lack of light, obscenity, unprofessional look, gender, lack of money or what?

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2017-10-06/why-photography-can-t-get-woke?cmpid=socialflow-twitter-business&utm_content=business&utm_campaign=socialflow-organic&utm_source=twitter&utm_medium=social “But there was one glaring omission: All 32 of the people they chose were men.”

What is the point and issue we are not touching, do not want to see and accept, are not showing but removing, are afraid of or despise in photography. We think we know perfection, so there is a ground to be followed? Rules such as don’t burn pictures with too much light. Perfection in photography is more complex than what is there in sight at first glance. It is eye candy for some, nostalgia, arranging a set and prettiness immortalised. Is there something more that needs a deeper look, what is the story or clue behind there. What is interesting in a photograph for me is fragility via a powerful medium, tool (too powerful for me to touch? Am I too small to be holding a camera?) and how this medium and media can be challenged, as it obviously must be. What gets captured, where do we point our cameras at and what does it tell?

Damage on a photo there can be is dust, scratches, negatives ageing, sudden wetness makes paper get glued on negative. Anything that creates something on the surface other than a picture should be removed. To please the eye is an interesting demand. Something gone wrong in the process of preserving a photograph, or a disturbance during any phase of making, disruptive something is a remainder of importance of imperfection, to understand this makes one take more dimensional photos than just surfaces that instantly please. Damage and doing wrong in photography is somewhat a punishable act as it is highly seen a technical art where one has to master the equipment, light, have eye for situations and capture in seconds. How good one is, is very much a technical issue for many. It is an issue of being accepted as a photographer. In other words how much equipment one can afford, which has led me to question authority and decision-making processes within the industry. Quality and how much wealth it needs to be achieved and how much wealth dictates quality and creativity in general.

In unreal photos of reality there is awe, how it was made, how much it is about the equipment and how much it is the master behind the lens. It is not unheard of to witness men saying women can’t photograph or you can never afford this camera. My destiny is of course set by people who know better. When money is the number one authority there, getting it gives you authority or is it skill.

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photos of public carpets

Public place carpet