Photos

The Wild Atlantic Way of Max Malloy

Saturday, 5 August, 2017 0 Comments

“I am Ireland-based photographer with a background in arts, who came to Ireland 13 years back, had a crush on Irish landscapes and haven’t left ever since.” So say Max Malloy, who was born in Latvia and spent his childhood beside the Baltic. He moved to Ireland 13 years ago “to be closer to the ocean and to the never ending green fields.” A constant theme in his work is what is called the Wild Atlantic Way: “i enjoy every frame that highlights the beauty of the ocean, the grandness of the cliffs.”

Max Malloy cliffs

Max Malloy landscape

Max Malloy Atlantic


The face is a picture of the mind

Saturday, 17 June, 2017 0 Comments

“People felt themselves watching him even before they knew that there was anything different about him. His eyes made a person think that he heard things that no one else had ever heard, that he knew things no one had ever guessed before. He did not seem quite human.” — Carson McCullers, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter

Big face


Diving can be a leap of faith

Saturday, 13 May, 2017 0 Comments

“Do not think to swim below. The ocean is already pushing into ears, sinuses, temples, the softness of eyes, and the harpsichord strings behind the kneecaps.” — J.M. Ledgard

No Diving


The echo of well water

Thursday, 4 May, 2017 0 Comments

The Irish poet Thomas Kinsella was born in Dublin on this day in 1928. He was championed by the critics in the early 1960s, but it was the dying Kavanagh and the upcoming Heaney who became the poets of the people, ordinary and elite. Popular success evaded Kinsella and although he’s central to the Irish canon he has remained on the margins of the verse market all his life.

Talking of margins, the ancient Irish monks and scribes who filled the marginalia of their manuscripts with illuminations and glosses, offer a comparison with Kinsella. One can always discover some new scribbled clue in the texts that the medievalists annotated and it’s the same with Thomas Kinsella’s poems. There’s much more there than meets the eye. Rereading has its rewards.

Echo

He cleared the thorns
from the broken gate,
and held her hand
through the heart of the wood
to the holy well.

They revealed their names
and told their tales
as they said that they would
on that distant day
when their love began.

And hand in hand
they turned to leave.
When she stopped and whispered
a final secret
down to the water.

Thomas Kinsella

Saint Sedna's Well


May Day in Vietnam: 2012

Monday, 1 May, 2017 0 Comments

May Day or International Worker’s Day is celebrated on 1 May throughout totalitarian Vietnam and because it is directly preceded by Reunification Day on 30 April people tend to take a double-day off. In some years, when both these holidays fall on a weekend, offices can be closed for as long as four consecutive days.

Vietnam on May Da

Vietnam on May Day

Vietnam on May Day

Vietnam on May Day


Tree, stone, earth and sky

Saturday, 15 April, 2017 0 Comments

“The tree was so old, and stood there so alone, that his childish heart had been filled with compassion; if no one else on the farm gave it a thought, he would at least do his best to, even though he suspected that his child’s words and child’s deeds didn’t make much difference. It had stood there before he was born, and would be standing there after he was dead, but perhaps, even so, it was pleased that he stroked its bark every time he passed, and sometimes, when he was sure he wasn’t observed, even pressed his cheek against it.” — Karl Ove Knausgård, A Time for Everything

Trees


Winter reflection

Sunday, 29 January, 2017 0 Comments

“Are the evenings longer where you are?” she asked.
“There’s a brightness between the trees,” I replied.

Winter sky


Parr near and far in Ireland

Saturday, 8 October, 2016 0 Comments

The great British photographer Martin Parr lived in Ireland, in Boyle, Co. Roscommon, between 1981 and 1983. So Near and So Far is the title of an exhibition of his pictures from the region that runs until Tuesday at the Roscommon Arts Centre. The images are included in Parr’s book A Fair Day: Photographs from the West Coast of Ireland.

Parr in Ireland


iPhone 7 photos

Monday, 12 September, 2016 0 Comments

No, not photos of the iPhone 7; photos by the iPhone 7. The first thing that has to be said is these look like professional magazine photos, not smartphone photos. The depth of field is really impressive. Thoughts: Is this the final nail in the coffin of consumer stand-alone cameras? And will next year’s iPhone 8 camera allow 3D capture for object and VR? Anyway, here’s the story:

“On Sunday, Sports Illustrated photographer David E. Klutho took photos with the new iPhone 7 Plus camera at the Titans-Vikings game. The iPhone 7 Plus has a 12–megapixel telephoto camera that offers new zooming capabilities. Each new model also features a wider aperture and a lens that allows the camera to capture brighter and more vibrant colors in photos and videos.”

iPhone7 photos


All you who sleep tonight

Thursday, 8 September, 2016 0 Comments

“Life is not easy for anyone here. Loss and fear, failure and disappointment, pain and ill-health, doubt and death – even those who have escaped from poverty have no escape from these. What makes life bearable is love – to love, to be loved, and – even after death – to know that you have loved and been loved.” Vikram Seth

The novelist and poet Vikram Seth divides his time between India, England, China and the USA. His most famous work is A Suitable Boy. Published in 1993, the book is one of the longest novels ever printed in the English language with its 1,488 pages and 591,552 words. A sequel, to be called A Suitable Girl, is due for publication next year.

At Evening

All you who sleep tonight
Far from the ones you love,
No hand to left or right
And emptiness above —

Know that you aren’t alone
The whole world shares your tears,
Some for two nights or one,
And some for all their years.

Vikram Seth

Evening candle


A bevy of mysterious, beautiful swans

Sunday, 10 July, 2016 0 Comments

A group of swans in flight becomes “a wedge,” but it’s called “a bevy” on the water. The genus Cygnus has its own terminology of the collective and the literature also offers “a colony of swans” and, best of all, “a whiteness of swans.” When W.B. Yeats observed The Wild Swans at Coole, he was taken by their transitory nature:

“But now they drift on the still water
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they build,
By what lake’s edge or pool
Delight men’s eyes, when I awake some day
To find they have flown away.”

Wild swans