“I lie down on many a station platform; I stand before many a soup kitchen; I squat on many a bench;–then at last the landscape becomes disturbing, mysterious, and familiar. It glides past the western windows with its villages, their thatched roofs like caps, pulled over the white-washed, half-timbered houses, its corn-fields, gleaming like mother-of-pearl in the slanting light, its orchards, its barns and old lime trees.”
Erich Maria Remarque
..do you know that? Following some occasions just by chance to capture landscapes, architecture, abstract motives… …that’s fine and that’s fun… …maybe with some great results.
…and then you get reminded by a photo series here on WP about that, what you really want to do. To study people! To look at their behaviors. About their natural conduct. – After Andrea’s post BETRACHTUNGEN I was so inspired to search exactly for that.
Thank you for your inspiration!
Imagine one dream of you as a little boy would have been to become an astronaut (I wrote already about that life had a different plan with me). Imagine now you would get an autograph on a photo print concerning space you did, with a personal dedication of let’s say Neil Armstrong or Yuri Gagarin or…. …Valentina Tereshkova, THE FIRST WOMAN IN SPACE !!!
Wow, can’t believe it that it really happend to ME! A signed photo with a personal dedication from Valentina Tereshkova. We are all so proud that we decide to hang that signed image here in our russian office.
During the preparation of my photoexhibition here in Russia our friend Julia (thanks btw) was in contact to Tereshkova. So we tried to invite her to the grand opening, but it was not possible that she could join. But next time.
deep in the west…
“sun still fighting, through smoke and steam
life here’s better than you could ever dream
i know you’re no beauty, for work’s lined your face
you don’t like wearing make-up, you’re an honest place
where the human race isn’t always in competition
your heartbeat’s of metal, it hammers out through the night
the foundation of prosperity, you’re a working town
don’t let them put you down, you bloom in your own way
bochum i call you home, bochum you’re in my bones, oh, glück auf – my home
you’re not a neon playground, there are no fashion shows here
you’re not a postcard for the tourists, here it’s the heart that counts
not the size of bank accounts, you’ve never sold yourself away
may your smile shine on forever, through the cold dust it gleams
be proud of your tiny gardens, proud of your traffic lights
proud of your chimney-stacks, proud of your football team!
bochum … oh, glück auf”
( ‘Bochum’, Herbert Grönemeyer )