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An 11 year old boy was just killed in the conflict in Srinagar Kashmir in India.
Why, why?
Oh. His mother. Robbed.
Note to self: Whisper in their ear at night powerful protections. Pray for peace.
Kashmir. Such a beautiful land. Such a place filled with struggle.
Note to self: Be grateful for all that you have.
When I was a small girl flipping through the pages of my father's National Geographic there was one country that seemed altogether more special than the others.
India.
And so it was that I announced to my parents one night at dinner that I had made a momentous decision: I was going to honeymoon in India.
My mother looked at me through her dark lashes and said in a serious voice, But you're only eight years old.
My father, on the other hand, leaned over his plate and said, Well, make sure to go to Kashmir and stay on one of those houseboats on the lake. Your mother and I did that once.
My father understood, you see. He's always been a very clever man.
And so it is that today -- yes, this very day -- I leave for the airport. To go to India. No honeymoon required.
I'll be going to Kashmir and staying in a houseboat on the lake.
Of course.
See you over there.
Images by FabIndia.
I am leaving soon. I am leaving this week. To see if I can learn something about photography from this man.
His photos are so touching they make me want to weep.
Please. Just please. Let some of his magic rub off on me.
See all of Marcus Bleasdale's work right here.
Shopping in Marrakech? Oh, you can venture off into the souks on your own. But why would you want to? Especially when you can tuck a copy of Shopping Marrakech in your bag. I had oodles of fun personal shopping with wry author Susan Simon & charming photographer (Countess) Nally Bellati when they were doing this book. So you will find manyof my very favorite stores inside the book's two covers. And organized around 7 shopping walks, Shopping Marrakech is so practical - no dashing from one side of town to the other, needlessly. Clever, clever.......
Published by The Little Bookroom. Buy your copy right here:
Oliver Weber. I had bumped into him on Twitter, that nebulous e-world where friends and followers are made in the blink of an eye. I was busy tweeting about my sundry doings. And there he was. I learned he was a photographer. Then I learned he had photographed Marrakech.
And so I clicked over and lost myself. In his pictures. Not just Marrakech but Havana, Moscow....
I have always admired photographers of black and white images. So drunk with color myself, their world seems spare and pure -- everything boiled down to an essence that the rest of us can only aspire to in some Velveteen Rabbit kind of way.
I wondered what made him tick. I asked and he answered.
When and why did you become a photographer?
I've been pursuing photography seriously since 2002. I'm especially interested in "street photography" based on spontaneity and the recognition of situations and moods. You never know what will happen and so the art lies in grasping the right moment with foresight. Once the moment is over, it's lost forever. So everything is condensed for me in that one moment.
Copyright Oliver Weber.
For me, photography is a picture language which everyone can understand, all over the world. This makes it singular, valuable and inimitable. Perhaps that is why I love it so much.
Copyright Oliver Weber.
What kind of equipment do you use?
Primarily analogue cameras, sometimes black-and-white but also color. The analogue process takes longer in comparison to digital photography but the process allows me greater objectivity in terms of my work.
Copyright Oliver Weber.
What surprised you most about Marrakech?
The friendly people.
Copyright Oliver Weber.
What is your fondest memory of Marrakech?
10001 nights, Aladdin, Ali Baba and the 40 Thieves. Somehow it really does encompass all of those things.
Copyright Oliver Weber.
Learn more about Oliver Weber here and see his portfolio here. He has a new book of photography coming out in German in two weeks. Follow him on Twitter here.
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PS Many thanks to Matador for naming me one of 20 interesting expat Twitterers. You can follow my odd thoughts on Twitter here:-)
I’m tired.
I’m really tired.
I’m on assignment and it doesn’t stop.
It’s one thing after another thing. After another thing. After another thing…….
Four hours of sleep last night.
How can I keep this up?
So many things on my plate.
So many things to do.
So many people asking me…..
if I can do this or please that and urgently this and no choice but that.
I looked in the mirror today. And I saw a person looking back at me
who looked old
who looked like someone I didn’t know.
2 pairs of brand new shoes.
1 Moroccan embroidered cushion.
1 black and white striped blanket from Chefchaouen.
1 chair thrifted in the Marrakech souk, freshly painted by me.
Happy weekend:-)
Oh, I know it's not right.
Oh, I know it's wrong.
Smoking.
I mean, my mother is a doctor. My brother is a doctor. My father is a health specialist. There are no excuses really. But there's something about smoking.......smoking an apple shisha that has me throwing caution to the wind.
Now don't look at me that way. Now don't start wagging your finger. It's only once every few months that I indulge............... in the legal funny stuff.
I could blame it on the bad influence of my Arab friends. But I rather think it might be the fantastic paraphernalia -- a flashback to bong smoking in the tenth grade. Ahem, I was just watching then, of course.
Why, even the monsters are smoking.
I think I might have to have the world's smallest outdoor shisha lounge at Peacock Pavilions. Where the bohemian troublemakers and I can relax on carpets and cushions outside and watch projector movies. And have a drink and smoke a hookah. Somewhere between the olive trees, the stars overhead.....
PS I have decided to leave my third person persona behind and try speaking to you myself. Hmmm...scary. What if you don't like me?
