Sometimes its too obvious, I reckon. Or is it just me?
The awkward beauty of a fleeting moment that is either imprinted on the back of my head or captured inside this tiny plastic box.
In any case, this precious moment is gone forerer. Then, sometimes, darkness and chemical solutions might (or not), refresh this lost memory of mine.
"Much have been said about the clarity of photography, but little has been said about its obscurity. And yet it is photography that has taught us to see from the unexpected vantage point…" From "The Photographer's Eye" by John Szarkowski (Andreas Neophytou)
"Faces came out of the confusion to him as he stood there, eyes met his and passed and vanished. Men gesticulated to him, shouted inaudible personal things. Most of the faces were flushed, but many were ghastly white. And disease was there, and many a hand that waved to him was gaunt and lean. Men and women of the new age! Strange and incredible meeting! As the broad stream passed before him to the right, tributary gangways from the remote uplands of the hall thrust downward in an incessant replacement of people; tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp. The unison of the song was enriched and complicated by the massive echoes of arches and passages. Men and women mingled in the ranks; tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp. The whole world seemed marching. Tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp; his brain was tramping. The garments waved onward, the faces poured by more abundantly."
From the (1910) dystopian science fiction novel "When the sleeper wakes" by H. G. Wells - Chapter IX.-The people march. Quoted by Andreas Neophytou
Children of Istanbul : Stories Untold. City of many names and children.
As I strolled around Istanbul's paths for a month, I met a lot of the latter.
Everyone had its own story to tell.
But I sensed that some stories were left untold.
My lens knew better... (by Andreas Neophytou)