samedi 4 juillet 2015

March 19, 1942 - Mrs. Edna Egbert, Brooklyn, NY

Kharkov, 1932

Night on Earth (1991)

Harry Miedema - Haircut III

Ruth Orkin - New York West Village, 1943

Paul Almasy
Paris, 1950

 Vivian Maier (1926-2009)
 NYC streets

Richard Newton

Tainan, 1962.
Photo: 王双全 (1920-1978)

Egypte, 1539-30 BC

vendredi 3 juillet 2015

click on it

Karin Szekessy

Henry Miller, Big Sur, 1947 
 Henri Cartier-Bresson

You’ve walked the spiritual paths, friends, read all the books about how to create a better ‘self’, watched all the videos, attended the web seminars, gone through the complex processes and spiritual practices that promised so much, repeated the mantras and positive affirmations, sat at the feet of the gurus and sages, opened every chakra, taken every pill, experienced every ‘high’, tried to be perfect and ‘highly spiritually evolved’, experienced every experience there is to experience, gone to higher and higher states, transcended everything there is to transcend, learned all about the afterlife, karma and reincarnation.
You did everything you were supposed to do. You did everything ‘right’. You were the ‘good student’. You followed all the rules, and then some.
So why do you sometimes still feel incomplete, confused, far from the contentment that was promised? Why do you often feel so disillusioned with the promises of others, perhaps more so than ever?
Perhaps it’s because even the most brilliant mind could never understand the true longings of the heart. Perhaps you were always chasing experiences, always living in hope, but never really meeting life. Perhaps now you are sick to death of second-hand truths, nauseated by other people’s answers, and you long for realness, a deep trust in YOU.
Perhaps everything had to fail, all your dreams of awakening had to crumble to dust, to get you to slow down, breathe, focus, and remember what is essential and ever-present.
Sometimes we need to be brought to our knees before we become present to our knees, and remember the ground upon which we kneel.
Sometimes we need to fall apart in order to remember what is real.

Jeff Foster 

Vivian Maier: Untitled, 1956