kids dancing

taken with a holga. 120 film

these were taken in South Africa (i wish i could remember the name of the place right now...) I was on a trip with ten artists and my two teachers, Rose and Claire. We were visiting the home/studio of Noria Mabasa, a 68 year old woman and venda artist. (more with her later)

The children were from the village, and if i remember correctly most of them were related. Funny if i think about me and my 11 cousins getting together to dance in a circle... The kids put on this dance for us, which worked also as a bit of a fundraiser for them as well.

It's always interesting to me that people can seem so different when they are still, or from a "distance", but as soon as they do something, eat, laugh, dance, talk, write, it is again revealed that we are all the same. Sure it's a different dance than i know, to a different kind of beat, skin color, location, all that... but the people inside these appearances, the confidence, the fear, the clutziness and agility, eagerness and boredom. The same as any dance recital with any children in the world (my guess).

Ah, springtime in Oside

and all the shopping carts are in bloom...

where i live...

you see this.

the Paddle Project

These are the hands of Julia Turner. they are magic hands. some jewelers make jewelry, some make art. Carrie and Julia taught me that.

This photo was taken for this project. A great idea for a great cause (with more longevity than a colored rubber band).

China

whole bunch of people in china... here are some photos without any.

september protest in DC

apathy is a luxury many (US)americans seem to be able to afford these days. i'm not really sure how, considering how much we already pay for fear and ignorance...

still protest can be an odd thing sometimes. screaming and finger pointing is not my cup of tea sotospeak. it can tend to remind one of a family gathering gone bad.

that said, it does have its place and i went to DC to check it out. my mom and I decided to make the trip out on a whim, just to join the numbers and watch it all go down, and of course take some photos. the best part for me was to be there with my mom... reminiscent of the days when i was little and she would take me to marches having to do with the arms race.

the thing i will take with me forever from that day has to do with the photo of the man sitting on the curb (below)... i was dead tired. i'd flown on a red eye to DC from San Diego. I'd gotten one hour of sleep. a few hours later and after about 50 speeches about every plight from palestine to uganda, we were marching with hundreds of thousands. I was freakin exhausted and in pain. I'd run a marathon before, but never experienced anything like this.

I turned to my mom at one point and asked if we could sit down. The man you see in the photo overheard me and asked if we would help him find a spot to rest as well. Turns out he was blind. This blind man was protesting in this hoard of people, all by himself, carrying his cane and this tiny blue flag.

as i sat next to him on the curb i snapped this shot. it's not the best photo, but i did not feel good about setting up some perfect photo or exploiting the situation past necessity. I really just took it so i would never forget him.