eight line post

In early January each year I take stock of which photobooks came in over the holidays, what's still on my wanted list, and what's available. Then I put in an order for a handful of titles. I buy most sight unseen based on hearsay. Some prove worthwhile. Others don't. That's how I discovered Maude Schuyler Clay's wonderful new book Mississippi History. If I could go back and revise my best-of-2015 list, this one would be on it. Oh well, hindsight is always 20/20.

Clay is a wonderful portraitist with deep roots in genteel Mississippi. She's a friend of Bill, and shares his natural feel for the rural Southern color palette. I like to imagine one hand clutching a mint juleps as she steadies the camera with the other, although I have no idea what her process actually is. She likes to shoot on bright mornings when the warm sun pours slowly like molasses across her subjects. By all rights this light should be harsh, but somehow in Clay's photos it isn't.  

One of her go-to portrait moves is a disruption of the face, putting one eye in light and the other in darkness. Here are some examples:

It's a large book and my scanner won't fit the full pages, so I've cropped these photos to emphasize the face. I'm not sure what Clay's intention was, but for me the effect is psychological. If eyes are the windows to the soul, these subjects seem scattered, complex, divided against themselves. Maybe slightly mad.

Visually the effect is similar to Heterochromia Iridum, differential coloration of the iris. This trait is not as uncommon as you might think. It runs evenly throughout the general populace, celebrities included, although the prevalence in humans is much less than in cats and dogs. 

The day after the Maude Schuyler Clay book arrived David Bowie died. Bowie was a rare bird for all sorts of reasons, but near the top of the list for me were his eyes. I found them mesmerizing. Even if he had made boring music —which he didn't— with those eyes he would still be a star, at least in my book. 

Technically Bowie's syndrome wasn't Heterocrhomia but Anisocoria, differential dilation of the pupils. Like Heterochromia, this syndrome can be either genetic or caused by physical damage. In Bowie's case, he suffered an injury as a teen which caused permanent dilation in the left eye. While everyone around him could adjust their inner F-stop, Bowie viewed everything thereafter at f/1.4 —at least through one eye. 

What was it like to look out of that head? Perhaps his brain was forced into some strange organic HDR calculation, trying to combine bright and dim, depth and shallowness, focus and blur. Sound and Vision? Whatever it was, Bowie's face for me was the penultimate expression of cool, detached, offbeat, arty. He personified The Other. Just another wild eyed boy from freecloud.

Even before Bowie died, I sometimes wondered why his split iris look was not more fashionable. Colored contacts are widely accessible. Everyone worshipped Bowie, and anyone could be him. So why didn't heterochromia ever catch on in the pop world? Why aren't there more humans walking around with eyes like the white cat above? They should be everywhere. Instead they're as rare as asymmetrical cars or McNuggets. 

I suppose I could point the finger at myself as easily as others. The closest I ever got was mismatched socks, a habit that began in college —inspired by Bowie— and continues to this day, at least on winter days too cold for sandals.

In the aftermath of Bowie's death another asymmetrical face was in the news most days —the unwashed and slightly dazed visage of Ryan Bundy, as he embarked on a new career in a new town. Like Bowie, Bundy's facial asymmetry was due to a childhood injury. A car ran over his head at age seven. After his traffic stop last week he may have felt he was always crashing in that same car. 

Ryan Bundy, AP

Bundy's face is yet another gentle reminder that asymmetry, not uniformity, is the law of bodies. Whether it's nipples, genitals, ears, or what have you, differences between left and right are common. Thus, any portraitist searching for a perfectly symmetrical face will be disappointed. In photography the struggle for perfection is often a fool's errand, the exact wrong direction. That leaves photography wallowing in the muck with the other arts, and that's just fine. 

Maybe this is what Clay is getting at with her disruptive portraits. Or Martin Schoeller with his detailed facial closeups?

Steve Carell, Martin Schoeller

A sideways nose hasn't slowed the cracked actor career of Owen Wilson. 

Just as a sideways eye —Strabismus, to get technical again— didn't slow down Sartre.

John-Paul Sartre, 1946, Henri Cartier-Bresson

I've wrestled over the years with my own wandering eye. None of my vision is 20/20, not hindsight, foresight, nor insight. Sometimes the eye behaves. Sometimes it has a mind of its own. At the least opportune moment its gaze might fall on a beautiful body nearby. Or the texture of a nearby moss garden. Or the distant horizon. Anywhere it seems but the task at hand, which is to point where the other eye points. That's usually into a camera. 

Selfie, 2006

Note that I'm talking about my third eye, so even if it wanders I have two others which work ok. But it's still a problem. In fact I think a wandering third eye might be the worst type to have, since it's an important location for Chakras, Chi and other touchy-feely crap.

A wandering third eye is bad enough. But when it's accompanied —as in my case—by wandering brain, essay, and socks it's a wonder I can get any photography done. My attention is all over th...

I'm sorry, what was my left side writing about? Kooks? Shapes of things? My right side whispers, Hang onto yourself.  After all. It ain't easy. It's OK. If I'd wanted my posts to be perfect I'd have made them Bowie eyes. 

Q & A with Rupert Jenkins

Portrait courtesy of CPAC

Rupert Jenkins is the former Executive Director of Colorado Photographic Art Center and a recent transplant to Eugene.

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BA: What brought you to Eugene? What will occupy your time here?

RJ: My partner Christina Kreps, who is an anthropologist, joined the faculty of the UO School of Architecture and Allied Arts. I left my position as director of the Colorado Photographic Arts Center (CPAC), based in Denver, to join her. Right now I’m enjoying some down time after four years running CPAC, although I just returned from Paris and London where I met with a group of students from the University of Denver for a photography interterm class. 

Are you still teaching for University of Denver? Or was that just a one shot trip? 

I teach interterm classes once or twice a year. I was never a faculty member – this is something I do informally with the university.

Why London and Paris? What's there that's essential for students?

The significance of London and Paris is immense from both cultural and historical perspectives and students take full advantage of being there. For some the priority is a visit to the Louvre or British Museum, for others it’s a visit to the Bataclan Theatre memorial or the London Eye; but it could also be a pilgrimage to Track 9 ¾ at King’s Cross or a Lady Gaga concert. Photographically speaking, we arrive in Paris right after Paris Photo so there are always amazing exhibitions to see. For instance, this year we viewed “Who’s Afraid of Women Photographers” at two museums on Paris that presented an in depth survey of pioneer women photographers from the 1850s through the mid-20^th century.  For our class, that exhibition cross referenced a Lee Miller show at the Imperial War Museum and two Julia Margaret Cameron shows in London. And while we expose the students to contemporary and historical photography during excursions, we also try to improve their own photography through critiques and reviews during the class. 

What did you know of Eugene before moving here? What are your first impressions of the city as a place to live?

Portland, OR, 1980, after Mt. St. Helens eruption

I lived in Portland back in 1980 so passed by Eugene but never actually visited the town. Before moving here I certainly knew of its reputation as a university town – it turned out that quite a few friends and colleagues in Denver had studied at UO and enjoyed living here a lot. Christina graduated and received her doctorate here so she knew Eugene well, and we had often discussed moving back to Oregon from Colorado.

Describe Eugene in 3 words.

Peaceful, bipedal, communal.

Describe Denver in 3 words.

Growing, emerging, vivid.

What if anything had you heard about the Eugene photo scene before moving here? What are your first impressions of the photo community?

Chris Rauschenberg had given me the names of a few photographers to meet with in Eugene but the photo scene itself was completely unknown to me. My first impressions are that UO has a very solid faculty and its members have been very generous in welcoming me, which I appreciate a lot. My interests lean toward contemporary photography; outside of the university I’m not seeing much of that but as I’ve only been here for a couple of months it’s too soon to draw any conclusions.

Your first impressions are spot on. There is not much interest in contemporary photography here outside the U of O. And the academic community suffers from ivory tower syndrome. Not much interaction with Eugene as a whole.

What, if anything, do the following names mean to you? Thom Sempere. Bernie Fremesser. Ron Jude.

Thom and I meet regularly. We were colleagues in San Francisco and I’ve participated in the Photo Alliance reviews there, which he organizes. We’re speaking together on a panel at the Schnitzer Museum March 5. I wasn’t aware of Bernie Freemesser’s career until you asked that question. I haven’t met Ron Jude yet, although I know his work superficially. I’m sure he’s a great addition to the UO faculty. 

Were Thom or Ron among the photographers suggested by Chris Rauschenberg? 

No. He gave me Craig Hickman’s name and a few others; I think Terri Warpinski was another.

You headed CPAC in Colorado. In your opinion, could such an organization work in Eugene? Do you have any plans to start one?

Like I said, it’s too early for me to make judgments about what would work or has worked in Eugene. I know from my time in Denver that sustaining a successful photo organization – non-profit or commercial - is very challenging. Eugene is not exactly an economic powerhouse and I assume it has a small collector base, which is necessary even for a non-profit. I certainly don’t have any intentions to start anything like CPAC in the foreseeable future!

How did you first become interested in photography? What holds your interest now?

My interests are more in the book publishing and editing arenas right now. Actually, Blue Sky was very inspirational to me when I lived in Portland. I used to go there a lot and became friends with Terry Toedtemeier, for instance. I started experimenting with photography and took myself quite seriously as an artist, which was probably misplaced but it did propel me to become involved with a Blue Sky-type of gallery in San Francisco when I moved there in 1981.

Are you referring to Camerawork? 

No, the first gallery I was involved in was the Eye Gallery, which was a small collective in the Mission District founded by social documentarians and rock music photographers (a strange mix!) After a couple of years I started being paid for administrative tasks and after it became a 501c3 Tom Ferentz (one of the founders) and I became the first “official” co-directors. I joined Camerawork soon after leaving Eye Gallery.

I am curious to see your early photo experiments form the 1980s. Are they online somewhere?

Yes, on Flickr. There are a couple of albums – “Early B&W” and “Micropets” – and there is also an album of projects I’ve worked on, although that needs updating.

Your Flickr stream is mostly personal snapshots. Do you consider those photos a meaningful body of work? 

Nagasaki Journey, 1995, Edited by Rupert Jenkins

As you say, most of my photos are personal or are taken on trips so I’m essentially a vacation photographer. I certainly don’t consider myself a photographer in the sense of having an artistic career. But my photos are often meaningful to me, and I’ve made a few books of my personal work that people have responded to positively. I am a curator and a writer, and I have directed non-profit and municipal galleries for more than 30 years, so those are my professional strengths. Right now I am discussing a variety of photo book projects with colleagues that range from a book and exhibition about drug-related disappearances and murders in Colombia to a series on “social practice” art. I’m also hopeful that a book on the atomic bombing of Nagasaki that I edited in 1995 will be republished for the 75^th anniversary of the bombing in 2020. Boiling down my interests, documentary and socially engaged work is the most important to me.

I enjoyed looking at both albums you mentioned ("Early B&W" and Micropets"). Street photography is my first love, and I will always have a soft spot (pun intended?) for plastic camera work. So I'm a natural audience for both. 

Laurie Price, San Francisco, 1982, from Micropets

I'm curious about your decision to concentrate less on your own work and more on curation/publishing of others. At one point you were very serious about your own photography. And somewhere along the line you realized it wasn't your calling. When did that transition happen, and was it difficult? Or relatively smooth? I think that realization is fairly common, and I'm wondering what insight you can offer as it applies to you or to others?

What happened was that I started getting shows but realized that there was a lot of time and expense incurred with framing, shipping printing etc., as well as the need to publicize the shows and generally self-promote (this was before the internet – perhaps promotion is easier these days via social media but getting bodies into galleries is more difficult now. The relevance of galleries in general is a complex issue that we don’t have room to discuss here). 

In my emerging role as gallery administrator and curator I had also started to interact with artists whose work was far more developed than mine. Very soon I realized that I was more interested in curating other people’s work than I was in promoting my own. Essentially it all comes down to whether you identify as an artist or not – for me the litmus test is whether you driven to create new work each day. When I asked myself that question I had to say “no.” I have a good sense of composition and am happy to make the occasional successful image but it’s far more satisfying for me to interact with “real” artists for whom I can offer exposure in a gallery or elsewhere.

I’ve been able to provide a leg up the art world ladder for many photographers and have worked with hundreds of artists who are far more talented than I am. For me that’s been very fulfilling; it also proves the value of having a vibrant not-for-profit sector serving its arts community. In San Francisco that’s definitely the case – here in Eugene and even in Denver I’m not so sure.

Santa Fe, Spring 2015

What do you mean "the relevance of galleries in general is a complex issue which we don't have time to discuss here"?

Generally, I think that galleries essentially remain relevant to artists, who as a species want to show their work, but otherwise galleries are not all that important anymore. Certainly attendance is defined by generation more than anything, and venues are becoming culled by the need to respond to specific demographics rather than trusting in a cross-cultural/cross-generational response to "good work," which is the old paradigm.

As a "gallerist" (I hate that term but it's appropriate here) one wants to attract a diverse audience, and certainly one wants to engage with youth. As far as I can see, though, Gen Z is defined by the need to document itself more than anything, and to be entertained by the mob or the phone, with little in between. And Generations X and Y —pretty much everyone of working age actually— are preoccupied by the need to make a living, in league with just about everyone under retirement age, which further limits audience potential. 

In Eugene the Jacobs Gallery is closing. Personally I don't know why, but it's probably as much to do with a failure to connect with an audience in terms of entertainment as it is to do with the art they show. I see crowds at First Fridays but there are as many shows in business spaces as there are in galleries; I see this as a form of gentrification that leverages art to entice people into a business or a neighborhood, ultimately with the goal of making a profit without any significant benefit to artist or arts community. 

Situating Robert Adams, 2012, Curated by Rupert Jenkins

I just got back from NY and I visited a couple of big museums that seemed more to be places to be seen in, rather than places to see things at. Any and all icons were more selfie zones than places for contemplation; I'm including meteors and Egyptian tombs as much as paintings when I say that! So spectacle and entertainment are increasingly important audience drivers, which is not exactly news, but when it comes to the smaller galleries, especially non-profits, it's a difficult challenge to face.

My experience with CPAC - and from informal discussions this counts for most of my peers as well -was that beyond the opening reception visitation was so low as to question the need for a gallery, outside of providing a venue for the artist(s) on show. Whereas before (in days of yore) students were regular visitors, now they only come as part of a class visit or for extra credit. Certainly, the internet has attuned people to look at art online, which is wonderful, but the concept of a personal, introspective interaction with an artwork is close to being lost. So unless galleries find ways to entertain as well as educate, enlighten, or sell, I think they are an increasingly less practical and/or viable arena for appreciating art.

You were one of the jurors for a $10,000 grant awarded for the idea of sending home photographic prints with newborns. Have you followed that project? If so, how is it going? 

I think it’s going fine. I talked about it recently with the award sponsor, Jennifer Schwartz of Crusade for Art, and she told me there’s interest in repeating the project in several other cities, which is exciting. The intention was to award innovative ways of disseminating photography to non-traditional consumers – that is, to communities outside of the usual art market circus. The project we funded stood out for it’s unique approach and we felt it deserved funding, if only for it’s out-of-left-field quirkiness!

I joked with some other photographers that parents of infants might be the worst possible audience to build a new collector base. Their attention is very much devoted toward another direction, creating blinders to anything else. That said, I give high points for thinking outside the box.

Good! Those swag bags given to new parents are full of consumer crap. So a photo seemed like a nice addition for those few who would appreciate it. Certainly it would be naïve to think that everyone would appreciate it but the idea was that it could become a treasured memento of the birth, or perhaps even spur a lifetime appreciation of photography.

Who are your 3 favorite contemporary photographers? 

Rineke Dijkstra, Phil Toledano, Ed Kashi.

3 favorite music albums?

Soft Machine Third, Patti Smith Twelve, Cowboy Junkies Open.

What is the professional litmus test of "no ducks"? I'm throwing this question out there in reference to the Ducks sports teams. They are huge here, as you'll find out.

I already have found out – we know when there’s a Ducks game because the parking spots on our street fill up early morning. To be clear, I made that rule for CPAC so it had nothing to do with the UO Ducks! It ruffled a few feathers, if you’ll excuse the pun, but the litmus test is exactly as it reads – do not expect to exhibit pictures of ducks in my gallery. If you are the kind of photographer who takes pictures of ducks, no matter how professionally rendered they might be, you need to look for a different venue, and a different gallery director, to support your work. 

I understand the thought behind this. Still, I don't like to exclude any subject. Even ducks might be ok under certain circumstances. What other subject matter falls under the "no ducks" label for you? What else is off limits? Barns? Sunsets? Other stuff?

To answer your own response to the “no ducks” – it’s a general litmus test that was a knee jerk response to all the mundane landscapes and nature photos we would receive as entries to our members show and at reviews when CPAC relaunched in 2011. Each year we were pleased to see that entries got stronger and less mundane, to the point at which last year’s show was by far the best in years. 

Are you equating mundane photography with weak photography? Would photographers like the Bechers or John Gossage or Penelope Umbrico be weak by that standard?

Stockholm Ferry, 1984

No, no. When I say mundane I’m talking about very naïve pictorial imagery that is superficially pleasant but lacking any meaningful content - not in any way comparable to work by the artists you cite. I am talking about images taken that are lovely in a sentimental sort of way but entirely without artistic merit beyond base sentimentality.

That largely reflected a change in philosophy from “let’s show something by everyone because we want our constituents to be happy” to “let’s be tough and push entrants to conceptualize, improve, and work hard to be better photographers.” There are certainly down sides to that in terms of everyone NOT being happy, but the upside is a more developed program that opens up opportunities for career development among photographers who are serious about their practice.

Off the top of your head, what was Colorado's record last year in football? The U of O? 

[Colorado went 4-9 in 2015; Oregon was 9-4]

No idea. I’m a soccer fan. Go Brighton!

What about the Timbers? 

So far the MLS hasn’t moved me. I did used to see the old Portland soccer team at the Civic Stadium back in 1980 and saw many aging icons of the game like George Best and Johann Cruyff. I will make a special effort to see the Timbers this year!

(all photos above by Rupert Jenkins unless otherwise noted)

Hollywood Star Map

For the past several months, Emmett and I have been playing eight ball in the basement most evenings. We play best 2 out of 3 games. Last spring these rounds didn't last long. I'd quickly win two games and that would be that. After all, the kid was only 9. He could barely reach the pool stick over the table, never mind with any consistency. So it wasn't a fair fight. I beat him every time, although I can't say I took much pleasure in it. 

But times have changed. With steady practice Emmett has developed into a solid player. He's larger now and more contemplative, and uses both traits to his advantage. He plays good, deliberate positional pool, and rarely chokes on the gimmes as he used to. He has his own stick with name engraved —a Christmas present— with which he beats me regularly. It's a changing of the guard, the latest in a seemingly neverending string of them as my kids move through adolescence.

As I write this I'm coming off a fresh loss. But instead of admiring Emmett I'm thinking of all the things I did wrong. For pool is one of those few games —like golf, horseshoes, and darts— where you control your own fate entirely. Unless your opponent runs the table (a non-event in our basement) you will get a crack at the balls. And if you play them right, you can win every time. Note that "can" is the operative word here. More often the result is "can't" or "didn't". I'm not saying it's easy. But at least in theory, victory is possible with every turn, and your opponent is helpless to prevent it. Ultimately the struggle isn't against the opponent. It's internal.

After our pool game a few nights ago I caught the end of the Steelers-Bengals game. It was one of those contests where each team battled itself as much as the opponent. It was back and forth. Both teams had their chances. Near the end Cincinnati sat on the best opportunity of the night, with a two point lead, 1st and 10 deep in Pittsburg territory, and 1:30 left in the game. They controlled their own fate entirely. But they imploded. The Steelers survived another week, although they didn't have much to do with it.

Shooting photographs follows a similar equation. As one moves through the visual world, photographic possibilities are everywhere. One can find them on busy streets, in suburban cul-de-sacs, at the breakfast table, out the back door. Potential photograph are Everywhere! Not that finding them is easy. In fact it's often quite difficult. The world can feel aligned against you. Subjects won't juxtapose properly or lighting is wrong or your fingers are freezing, or you just aren't feeling it for whatever reason. But the photos are always out there. There are five world-class photos in front of you right now as you read this. It's a pool game. You can run the table any time you want. Any opposition is imagined.

Seeing photographs is the part you control. The part you don't is what happens afterward. There are measures you can take to influence their reception, but it's largely a crapshoot. People will like them or they won't, and there's not much you can do about it. Sometimes the wind of luck is behind you. Sometimes it's in your face. Navigation is tough. And that's while you're alive. After you die, there's no hand on the rudder. 

This might be where the concept of fate comes in. What is fate? Don't ask me. I don't understand it. But it feels true. Or, to be more accurate, it has felt true to me at certain points in my life. Taken to its logical extreme —which astrologers and Tarot readers do— fate might be said to determine everything that happens from birth. Just a star chart or mix of drawn cards lays out the course. By this logic we're all helpless pool balls being knocked here and there by the rules of Laplace's demon.

Making photographs it's sometimes hard to know where the edge is between free will and fate. Some photos walk right up to you and announce themselves. Others cower in the bushes. Is the difference serendipity? Luck? Chaos? Should you search harder? Or with indifference? Does it matter? 

I don't know the answers. But if someone was reading my start chart way back in 12/29/68, they would know with certainty that I'll be in Los Angeles this week.

Tru Dat

Dan Piraro, 1/10/16

Tavepong Pratoomwong: What Was He Thinking?

Tavepong Pratoomwong is a photographer based in Bangkok.

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Tree man - One day I was in Japan looking for a camera shop (Yes... if you visit Japan, your camera equipment maniac might relapse). I found a smoking area in front of a train station and a group of office workers smoking. My friend told me this is how they slake off. After taking photos for a while, I saw a little hole in a tree. What if the face of a man poked out through that hole? So I tried positioning the angle to achieve that idea. He did not realize that I was taking his photo (because I was behind the tree) and looked at the advertisements on the big LED monitor on the opposite side. That’s why he turned his face up. I took many photos vertically and horizontally. Finally, I got the best shot when I almost stopped doing it. Treeman is one of my favorite photos and the one that changed my life. Many people know me from this photo because it was the 1st place winner in the Miami Street Photography Festival 2014. 

No. 89 - I took this photo last year when I went to join the Slideluck in Bangkok event. I walked around till sunset without any luck. Before the event started I saw a man smoking in front of a restaurant. He tred to make donut shape smoke. It was quite odd. I snuck behind and used silent mode on my camera. I tried to get as many circle smokes as I could in one frame. After taking a lot of pictures I reviewed all the photos at home and —surprise! — the fume in this one looks like number 89. That month I bought a lotto with this number but got nothing. At least I had a weird photo.

Triplets - I took this photo at the beginning of this year. I went out to meet a friend at a department store in Bangkok. After parking and walking to the gate, I noticed many people crowded around something in front of the building. They were cute quadruplets with their babysitters. I am not hesitant shooting them. I heard taking photo of children in other countries may lead to problems but in Bangkok it's a different story. I tred to get all of them in a frame but it's not easy because they are running around all the time. Unfortunately there are only 3 of them in this shot but I prefer the result because it looks like they are split into 3 groups by a magic trick. 

Ant man - I walked around in town recently. On the upper floor of a building I saw a man writing a note. The building itself looked clean and simple. For me, when I spot some activities on many different levels I always try to find some connection between them. I know the tiny man is quite cliché but I always try and find some way to make it special. Near that area there was a food cart with many dishes in front. So the first idea was make his legs dip into the dish. It didn't work well but I continued shooting this composition. Suddenly he reached the upper beam to help him stand up. But in the photo it's like he is jumping down to the dish below. My friend told me to see movie Ant Man after he saw this shot.

Upside Duck - Not far from my home there is a big restaurant with a large garden. Decoration of this garden changes regularly with attractive designs. The day I took this shot, the lake next to the garden was decorated with a big yellow duck floating in the center. The funny thing is there were real ducks living in that lake too! The first thing in my mind was that I should play with juxtaposition. I tried to find a duck that could compare with the big yellow one. I walked around the lake for a few minutes and found a duck sitting beside the lake as another duck was swimming in the shadow of the big yellow duck. It was a good position to play with juxtaposition. I took a just few shots because it looked too simple for juxtaposition until the duck bit its back with a strange posture.

When I came back home, I tried to rotate this frame upside down and it started working! It left the viewers confused. In my first group exhibition, many people stopped and watched this picture for a long while and tried to understand it. Many of them tried to tilt their heads like that duck. I hope you enjoy its upside down effect too!

Planking - If I have no idea where to go take photos, I always visit Siam City Park at the end. It is a large water park which people call "The Sea of Bangkok" with many people and activities, and it's not far from my house. I even had a year ticket after I decided to do some photo series of this park. One day I went to the artificial sea area (which holds the Guinness world record for largest) and saw a boy. He was playing in the water by letting the wave throw his body and rolling around. In this photo he seems to lie still but in fact his body is rolling up and down. I feel lucky to have 2 boys fill the upper part of the frame and the color of the goggle strap match the pool tiles.

Share - This is one of my favorite photos of 2015. In July I had a chance to join the Observe collective exhibition in Germany. After the event, I went with other photographers to the Peace Festival in Münster. It was a good day to meet many photographers from the internet whom I'd never met in person before. The Festival set up in a football-size park. When we reached it, we looked like kids running to a new playground. I saw an interesting group cutting watermelon. I thought I might get some nice action from this kind of scene, so I sat in front of them tilting my camera up to get some beautiful sky and kept shooting. A good thing about the festival atmosphere is people did not care much about a camera man. The shot I like the most has a rhythm of hands stacking up watermelon. The right side of the photo has a connection of many circles of hands. It's far more than I expected in the first place. One more impression: I got a piece of watermelon from them. The sweet taste I remember till this day.

Headless Dog - Last year I entered the "365 Day in 2014" event of Street Photo Thailand. The point is to take photos every day and select the best one, then submit on their Facebook page. If I haven't enough time I always trip around my home area. I discovered a small village where people came out to exercise after work at a playground. That day the rain had just stopped, so I had not met many interesting subjects until I found a dog chasing a cat and got some pictures. Near that dog and cat group, there was a cowardly looking dog standing in the middle of the street. I'm not interested in the dog, but the background with sphere shapes is fine. So I decided to take pictures of both of them but the dog suddenly turned its head back to bite something and I shot it 2-3 times. No idea of a headless dog came in my mind. I just wanted to shoot a dog and interesting background, that's all.

We love yoga - I got this shot from a park near Chao Phraya river. In fact I turned the wrong way and it led me here. The yoga group looked like a good subject but I decided to walk around and find something to be a foreground. At fist I had a shot with a man on a bench and a yoga player in the background. It was ok so I moved on to another area. I noticed a cat hanging around nearby. I came closer but it was not afraid of me. Maybe a boss cat, I think. Eye to eye for a while, the cat walked to the tree and started scratching it like crazy. I jumped in trying to frame the yoga girl in composition at the same time. Out of nowhere, a bird flies up the left side of the frame, its wings looking like the yoga shape bending. Wrong turn but luckily the right path for me.

Dissolves - A few days before the end of 2014, I was shopping in a department store. I found a decorated arc with mirrors cut in a music note shape. It was really shiny and a lot of people were doing selfies around this area. At first I wanted a reflection of one body attached to another pair of legs but the result was not satisfying. Then I noticed the shape of the note mirror in my frame so I moved closer and closer. The edge of the mirror was out of focus now and the result looked like a multi-exposure. I waited for people passing by, shot a lot of this scene, and I prefer this one with a man waking exactly over the line on the floor.