photography

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Valizas

Being disconnected for a couple of days, soaking up the winter sun, the ocean breeze and a great read was the best gift I could make myself. When it was quiet at night I didn’t take out my iPod to listen to my favourite songs; I focused on the sound of the ocean instead. The steady swoosh of the waves when everything else fell silent reminded me of cars on a highway. It was soothing to know that there was...

over the edge

The new life I’ve grown to love is coming to an end. No whining anymore, I have to act. I was assigned to another module I didn’t like? Then I should use my free time to do what makes me feel alive, photograph as often as I can. Make progress with my exchange semester plans. People don’t care about me and I’ll be alone at the end, everything will be lost when I’m back in autumn? So be it. But in...

Be Vulnerable

Too often, I’m not satisfied with my photographs. Superficially they might be ‘beautiful’ – but what do I feel when I look at them? Nothing. They’re like a pretty face that’s pleasant to look at, but exchangeable with any other, blank. I figured that the lack of emotions is due to the fact that I’m still a beginner. My focus isn’t on conveying emotions yet. Instead, I’ve been working on the theme and atmosphere. I’ve also been playing safe, following other photographers and trying out...

Is Photography Superficial?

Once upon a time, two very different people met at a beach party in Singapore. There was a Burmese freelance photographer in his mid-twenties and a young multiracial girl, clueless about photography, who had to sneak into the club because she hasn’t turned 18 yet. Alcohol has loosened my tongue and mind, but it doesn’t bring me closer to the group I am with. So I’ve started a conversation with this Burmese guy from the table next to ours, who – even though I’ve...

Savona-fisherman

Finding Uruguay In Italy

Staying in Italy for four days at my blogger friend Italian Hurricane‘s place made me realise how similar Italy and Uruguay are. The architecture, some dishes, the smell of the stairs of the house.. finding Uruguay in those details comes unexpected, and it hits me hard. It’s weird, I travel several hours by train into Switzerland’s neighbouring country and I find myself reminded of South America, thousands of kilometers away. I’ve always known that most of the Uruguayans are descendants of the Spanish and Italians,...