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Buoy the population of the soul
Toward their destination before they drown
~ Robert Pinsky
March 2005
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Tuesday, 1. March 2005

Notes and Thoughts of A Photography White Belt





  1. A good photograph conveys an idea or a feeling, much like a painting or a poem. The measure of its success is the intensity with which this is evoked in the viewer.

  2. Press the button only when the mind is empty of all thought but that of the image framed in the viewfinder.

  3. Cooperate with the dance of chance.

  4. Trying to make a photograph using a sequence of random shots is akin to fishing for a whale with a teaspoon.

  5. Every take is the final slash of a sword. Before it nothing. After it nothing.

  6. While Art can’t be taught, craft can be learnt. Study the masters. Learn the craft.

  7. The lens is a conduit between the inside and the outside, the point of osmosis.

  8. The essential is always hidden behind the obvious. Search for this.

  9. The better oppositions – light and shadow, solid and fluid, iris and the cornea, masculine and feminine - are clarified, sharper the image.

  10. Beyond duality lies the field. Go to the field. Take others with you.

  11. The final frontier is the human, for he contains universes within.




My Daily Notes

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In Between Reading Neruda




Photo by me. Others here

What did I read, I wonder, In those in-between years That spanned abandonment, And grief, and finally silence,

As I open this old book of love Sonnets I had just bought in a used Bookstore? I shake the dust And scatter syllables with

My tongue, which has by now Forgotten most of the twenty-one Names it had once invented for you. And while I am chanting this line

y te parces a la palbra melancolia, Stray news arrives, in gossip’s Envelope, of an impeding Wedding. Yours. And with scarcely

A pause, talk goes on to other busy Matters that the days fill themselves With, remaining as blank as before. I press ahead with this recitation:

How the night wind revolves in The sky and sings! And how dust Settles over skin that has changed And yet remembers all the same.




My Poems

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