nishat @ar-rad - Tumblr Blog

Perfect Days (2023) dir. Wim Wenders

Fan Ho ( 8 October 1931- 19 June 2016) was a Chinese photographer, film director, and actor.

Fan Ho was born in Shanghai in 1937, but immigrated with his family to Hong Kong at an early age. Ho began photographing at a very young age with a Rolleiflex camera his father gave him. Largely self-taught, his photos display a fascination with urban life, explored alleys, slums, markets and streets, depicting the street vendors and children only a few years younger than himself. He developed his images in the family bathtub and soon had built up a significant body of work, chronicling Hong Kong in the 50s and 60s as it was becoming a major metropolitan center. The essence of Fan Ho’s photography is his gift in capturing humanity.

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End of the Day

Fan Ho, 1955

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Fan Ho - Construction Hong kong

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Approaching Shadow, Hong Kong

Fan Ho - 1950s

apoemaday

Remembering

by Rainer Maria Rilke

And you wait. You wait for the one thing that will change your life, make it more than it is— something wonderful, exceptional, stones awakening, depths opening to you.

In the dusky bookstalls old books glimmer gold and brown. You think of lands you journeyed through, of paintings and a dress once worn by a woman you never found again.

And suddenly you know: that was enough. You rise and there appears before you in all its longings and hesitations the shape of what you lived.

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Behind the scenes of "Les fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain" (2001) - dir Jean-Pierre Jeunet

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Joanassie Oomayoualook , Ptarmigans - small sculptures of Kinngait /ᑭᙵᐃᑦ/ Cape Dorset. Black stone.

Printed in “Sculpture of the Inuit: Masterworks of the Canadian Arctic” (Canafian Eskimo Arts Council, 1971.)

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Past Lives (2023, Celine Song)

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Bridget Riley, Exhibition Poster, 1965

Richard Feigen Gallery

Source of this, bridgetriley.com

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i'm a simple girl: i see sunlight on the water, i find god

apoemaday

Morning

by Frank O’Hara

I’ve got to tell you how I love you always I think of it on grey mornings with death in my mouth the tea is never hot enough then and the cigarette dry the maroon robe chills me I need you and look out the window at the noiseless snow At night on the dock the buses glow like clouds and I am lonely thinking of flutes I miss you always when I go to the beach the sand is wet with tears that seem mine although I never weep and hold you in my heart with a very real humor you’d be proud of the parking lot is crowded and I stand rattling my keys the car is empty as a bicycle what are you doing now where did you eat your lunch and were there lots of anchovies it is difficult to think of you without me in the sentence you depress me when you are alone Last night the stars were numerous and today snow is their calling card I’ll not be cordial there is nothing that distracts me music is only a crossword puzzle do you know how it is when you are the only passenger if there is a place further from me I beg you do not go