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A frog is just a frog
It’s not a prince
A wall is just a wall
It is not a door
A dead frog is just a dead frog
It leaves a stain
A stain is just a stain
Some mess to clean
A dead frog is the essence of
The stain
The stain is the reminder of the truth
The truth is just the truth
It is not a wish
A wish is just a wish
For a prince
A prince is just a dream
A kiss is just a kiss
A dream is just a dream
It does not hold
A fairy tale is a fairy-tale
It is just told
Ulrike Gerbig
Hands live to caress and love.
Hands live to fight and die.
Forever living hands, forever exploring are hands.
Remarkable hands, storied hands.
Hands, hands can build.
Hands can mold, shape, and speak.
Hands can grasp for the heavens, touch it and believe in the make believers.
Through the fingers thoughts explode as pen touches paper.
Tones and melodies erupt from inner emotions becoming reality.
Heart and soul become one as fingers scrawl quickly, feverishly.
Pounding blood surges through the fingers forcing the pen onward, causing tears to fall from an eye.
Truth flows from the mind; the hand transports it into being.
Embracers of the brush, digits move carefully following intricate lines drawn on canvas.
Colors blend together, vibrant, beautiful, soaring to mosaics of sky and water.
The calming sense of touch slows the scene until order graces the fabric.
Forgotten til’ their lost.
Forgotten until they are crippled, hands are taken for granted for their life giving talent.
Bent and crooked they are silenced from the song they once sang.
Memories now distant are relegated to the wall or museums.
Dusty shelves house the books of the once pulsating, vital, movements that the hand generated.
Hands have saved lives and taken them just as easily.
They create the saviors of life as well as the purveyors of death.
Creating and destroying with a single move a finger can move mountains or search the unknown heavens.
Hands live to caress and love.
Hands live to fight and die.
Forever living hands, forever exploring are hands.
A child imagines some of the feelings his dad has gone through in his long life. He imagines the struggles and frustrations his dad has gone through. He is happy that now that his father is retired, he can sit back and enjoy the fruits of his labors.
- my papa working as volunteer builder for the Gawad Kalinga. he consider this as his rest period.
Papa Is retiring from his work today…
Retirement is something that people look forward to all of their lives. It is a lucky few however, that truly get to enjoy their golden years. Factors like health concerns, death of a spouse, and monetary issues are all things that can prevent people from taking full advantage of their retirement years. My motto is enjoy life while you can because you never know what is going to happen later. Those that are lucky enough to really enjoy their “golden years” are truly blessed.
Here are some photos of Fathers Working…collected during my shooting days…
from a rock concert
a sabungero: a job for some fathers here in the philippines.
Farmer: this is how farmers do their work
Street Barber
fish drier: From Calabanga
Taho Vendor:
Cowboys from Burias Island
Scrap Dealer: Pili Camarines Sur
Wake Board Painter: CWC during the kaogma Festival
Net Fisherman: Calabanga Camarines Sur
House painter: Gawad Kalinga, Pasacao Camarines Sur
Rice drier: Carolina, Naga City
Public Safety Officer: Naga City
A father: St. Jude Parish
During the healing mass: Cathedral naga City
Fire Volunteer, Shooter, AutoMan, and a friend of ours. very generous and down to earth
construction workers: Habitat, House build, Naga City
I wrote your name in the sky,
but the wind blew it away.
I wrote your name in the sand,
but the waves washed it away.
I wrote your name in my heart,
and forever it will stay.
- Jessica Blade -
400d 17mm iso100 f4 25sec.
The Zen master Ryokan lived a very simple life in a little hut at the foot of the mountain. one night, when the master was away, a thief broke into the hut only to discover that there was nothing to steal.
Ryokan returned and caught the burglar. “You have put yourself to much trouble to visit me, ” he said.
“You must not go away empty handed. Please take my clothes and blanket as a gift.”
The thief, quite bewildered, took the clothes and slunk off.
Ryokan sat down naked and watched the moon. “Poor fellow,” he thought to himself, “I wish I could give him the gorgeous moonlight.”
The master’s sermon that day consisted of one enigmatic sentence.
With a wry smile he said, “All I do is sit by the bank of the river, selling river water.”
I was so busy buying the water that i failed to see the river.
taken 8/25/08 at 32mm with iso100 1/1000sec f4.2
The rich industrialist from the North was horrified to find the Southern fisherman lying lazily beside his boat, smoking a pipe.
“Why aren’t you out fishing?” said the industrialist.
“Because I have caught enough fish for the day,” said the fisherman.
“Why don’t you catch some more?”
“What would I do with it?”
“You could earn more money” was the reply.
“with that you could have a motor fixed to your boat and go into deeper waters and catch more fish. then you would make enough to buy nylon nets. these would bring you more fish and more money. soon you would have enough money to own two boats… maybe even a fleet of boats. then you would be a rich man like me.”
“What would I do then?”
“Then you could really enjoy life.”
What do you think I am doing right now?”
Which would you rather have: a fortune or a capacity for enjoyment?
taken 9/26/08 at 105mm iso800 1/160 sec. f5.6
18mm iso100 30 sec. f3.5 (night shot Mt. Isarog during my joyride to Calabanga, Camarines Sur, Philippines)
Said the monk, “All the mountains and rivers and the earth and stars -where do they come from?”
Said the master, “Where does your question come from?”
Search within.
underwater scavengers/divers of scrap metals and garbage
Nasrudin was taking a of salt to the market. His donkey waded through the river and the salt dissolved. When it reached the opposite bank the animal ran around in circles, overjoyed that its load had been lightened. nasrudin was annoyed.
On the next market day he packed the panniers with cotton. The ass nearly drowned with the increased weight of the cotton soaked in river water.
“There!” said Nasrudin gleefully. “That will teach you to think that each time you go through water you stand to gain!”
Two persons walked into religion.
One came alive, the other drowned.
photo taken during the Traslacion 08 in Naga City, Philippines.
The master was asked,”What is spirituality?”
He said, “Spirituality is that which succeeds in bringing one to inner transformation.”
“But if I apply the traditional methods handed down by the masters, is that not spirituality?”
“It is not spirituality if it does not perform its function for you. a blanket is no longer a blanket if it does not keep you warm.”
“So spirituality does change?”
“People change and needs change. So what was spirituality once is spirituality no more. What generally goes under the name of spirituality is merely the record of the past methods.”
Don’t cut the person to fit the coat.
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more photos of Traslacion
