nostalgia for an old friend

I haven't been blogging much lately.I have been more in my head these days I have been feeling in limbo lately,a quiet turbulence, none the less, rocky.I took a long yoga practice this morning,that oddly amidst a mind mildly storming,the practice felt smooth.I am always amazed at how just the mere focus on smoothing out my breath smooths out so much else.I felt so much more at ease with myself, that I decided to meander out to the art institute in town that is hosting a retrospective exhibit of the great photojournalist,photography master Henri Cartier Bresson. the exhibit was expansive,covering all of his career.As I roamed from room to room, I came across so many photos that I have come to know so well over the years.I felt that I had spent the afternoon with a dear old friend
.Cartier-Bresson was amongst the first photographers that I fell in love with as an adolescent in New York City.I was reminded of his humor,his compassion,his talent to capture the serendipitous and the sublime.It reminded me of my early passions, the feeling of seeing things again for the first time with the energy ,freshness,excitement of my youth.I was thinking what canI say to a friend who is no longer here,who I never met in person,but has influenced me in how I see the world.We all influence each other everyday unknowingly in such profound ways.I,today was given reprieve to get out of my head some into the world to remember the gifts of man that I have never met,but through his work I have learned about this world,about myself, about you....
To take photographs means to recognize - simultaneously and within a fraction of a second - both the fact itself and the rigorous organization of visually perceived forms that give it meaning. It is putting one's head, one's eye and one's heart on the same axis.
Henri Cartier-Bresson

We photographers deal in things which are continually vanishing, and when they have vanished there is no contrivance on earth can make them come back again. We cannot develop and print a memory.
Henri Cartier-Bresson













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