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.

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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.

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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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