View from an old bicycle

It has become a routine for me now to borrow an old bike from an old woman living nearby and go around the neighborhood at 4:30 when the sun is not anymore as strong and the humidity already abated if only a little. Of course, I also take with me her conical hat because even though it’s already late in the afternoon, the sun can still do a lot of damage. I also have to don my wayfarers and apply a thick layer of sunblock lotion (of late I’ve been a little concerned about skin aging).

Going by bike makes me notice the vivid images of  people and the landscape they invade. Although I think taking pictures along the way makes me miss some details, at some point I have to sacrifice a few moments if only to make permanent the fleetingness of moving images.

There is so much beauty in the transitoriness and the now-ness of these images, but this beauty hinges upon the fact that it is ephemeral. A camera, in our all too human desire to capture this transience, can only arrest a moment, which is a mere simulation of what the eyes see; this seeing in itself is a version of that beauty.

Funny how everything appears to be of the moment, now. And this attempt on permanence render the subject unbeautiful, almost grotesque.


A landscape like above is beautiful at the instance of being seen. The mediation made by the camera phone transforms it into a commonplace photograph unable to evoke anything but boredom.


Notice how the self impinges itself into any captured photo wherever and whenever there’s an opportunity.

When can this self be truly obliterated?








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