Henri Cartier Bresson could capture the moment of truth – when the subject revealed a part of himself that even he didn´t know existed. “you just habe to make people forget the camera. it is no different for you”
Originally uploaded by emilie79*
You were reaching out to me. We were getting closer and closer still – you approached me with that delicacy of yours, and I was shy like a hedgehog, keeping people away with my spines – a warm sensation of you growing inside of me – “hold me, wrap me up unfold me I am small I’m needy warm me up and breathe me” – you made me believe in you – but it was untrue – was it?
Has anyone ever taught you to use words properly? What did you really mean by them?
Why did you have to plant flowers in my heart if I have to pull them up?
your sunshine was for someone else and my unlucky flowers die
Originally uploaded by mistybliss
this photo reminds me of when I was little… I remember I looked like this, long blonde hair, large eyes and my dad called me “his little doll”.
If ever I get to marry and have my own family, I wish to be happy and full of life as in mistybliss‘s photos. They really touched me deep.
Originally uploaded by salvuzzo1
This picture was taken by Ernesto a.k.a. salvuzzo.
I met him and other interesting people at the Flickr meeting in Lecce on Saturday 1 March.
We met to take pictures of the city but ended up taking pictures of each other! We laughed so much! 🙂
I feel strange seeing myself as the subject of a photo. I’ve never really thought of myself as interesting at all. But I love these pictures and I would like to put them all here. It’s been a little ego-boost. 😉
Yesterday I bought some chocolates -some with a rhum filling, other ones with coffee… delicious. The man who sold them to me put a little chocolate heart in the bag with the others. It just made me smile.
But there’s no sorrows of young me without some little drama. Let’s talk about suffering then. It would be odd to read a totally happy post.
I get accused of things by my room mates. I’m getting tired of this and of suffering from it. I shall not get sad or mad anymore. I just don’t want to think about it because it’s not worth it. They won’t make me feel miserable anymore.
And there’s something strongly bugging me in the field of sentiments too. Just like a sting, a subtle pain that won’t leave me alone. I keep asking questions but get no answer.
My English is bugging me, too. I have to end this post before the Oxford Language Society sues me.
Originally uploaded by Red Beetle
Me and my friend camillo went down the seafront the other day and took some pictures of the sunset, the ships setting sail from the harbor of our town, Taranto, the purple and pink sky, and the grey sea below. His came out better than mine, I’m sure. Anyway they give me a sense of longing for far away places and adventure. Just like in a corto Maltese story by Hugo Pratt.