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Showing posts from March 22, 2009

Selected Excellence: A Fresh Eye

(It looks as if the meter is peeking through the torn opening. If you were the photographer, would you just walked past without noticing this interesting aspect of the scene?)Yesterday, we discussed how to stay fresh in seeing a scene. Here is someone who manages to keep a fresh eye in his photography works, John Marrocco from Florida of the United States.John has been passionately involved in the art and technique of photography for over 30 years. Sometimes working professionally, but mostly not. Currently make his living in boating related endeavours and living to make his photographs. He writes that, “I photographs because I have to….to feed my soul. The not-so-profound draws me in. Mundane objects we see and pass every day. Most go by without notice. The photographs posted in my blog are as I see it.”The following photos are themed on the boardwalk by John.(Boardwalk, Flagler Beach, Florida)(Pilings, Daytona Beach, Florida) (Boardwalk, Flagler Beach, Florida. Foggy mornin…

Freshness

Let’s take a break from the hefty LNII series and start a fresh question: How to keep a fresh eye in seeing a scene?(The plastic plate reads: "fresh fruit juice" ranging from orange juice, watermelon juice to starfruit juice and more.  I shot this picture with the WB tuned to purplish. The light was right and the mood peaceful.  There is some special quality in this scene that entice me to pause and shoot)Last July, I bought the GX200. Since then, I have been taking photos every day. On good days, I take lots of shots; on other days when the mood or weather is not right, I take fewer. This is way too different from my film days. For one thing, film photographers tend to be more frugal; for another, serious film cameras are less portable on a daily basis.Anyway, taking pictures is more like eating breakfast to me now: I will feel funny if I skip it. Well, I’m not a breakfast “refusenik”, so to speak. When I reviewed the daily posts I wrote here, I was sort of amazed by how va…

LNII Series: Outlaw Territories

(The old resettlement estates were not called "outlaw territories" for no reason. Such poor neighbourhoods were the least patrolled by the police. Hoodlums and triad members carved up spheres of influence in the estates. This photo showed a rare spot check being carried out by the then Royal Hong Kong Police Force)LNII stands for Lower Ngau Tau Kwok (II) Estate, the last resettlement estate to be redeveloped in Hong Kong. You may wish to read here for the first and here for the second instalments of this series. The photos presented in this series were taken by me with my GX200 during my two visits to the estate. This instalment continues on the daily life in a resettlement estate, with an emphasis on the reminiscences of the adult residents.(To make ends meet, most resettlement households were desperate for whatever that could earn some money. This is a sewing machine which was typical money-earning tool for housewives in the old days. Usually, contractors of textile factor…

LNII Series: Living in Matchboxes

(Cubicles in a Matchbox: A cubicle in the LNII matchbox-like blocks measure as wide as the space the barred windows and the ventilation hole for the toilet occupy) LNII stands for Lower Ngau Tau Kwok (II) Estate, the last resettlement estate to be redeveloped in Hong Kong. You may click here for the first instalment of this report. (A vacant flat peeked through the ventilation hole from the central corridor)The photos presented in this series were taken by me with my GX200 during my two visits to the estate. This instalment peeks into the daily life in a resettlement estate, with the focus on the colourful childhood days there.(Any strangers can go in through this main gate, walk up the stairs or take the lifts to any floor of the block, which is what we are going to do in this instalment. Note that the photo is rightly exposed. It was around past five but the extensive sunshades of the deserted shops blocked the sky, and this entrance was exactly so dimly lit. No wonder that the crim…