Thursday, November 15, 2007

A Thousand Words and More

A good photographer does not need words for his photos. His pictures speak for themselves. Sometimes, if you look more closely, you will even find that the pictures he takes say more than his subjects care to convey.

This is my tribute to one of the most sensitive photographers I have ever known - Carlos Mori Rodriguez.

Thank you for taking great pictures, Mori. I still owe you the short stories that are supposed to go with your pictures, which I promised to write. Watch out for them at the poetry site.

All pictures courtesy of Carlos Mori Rodriguez. For a wealth of other great pictures by Mori, please visit Confessions of a Leap Year Baby II.


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The Chronicler's Creed

Where there's water and sun, where there are friends to see or new people to meet, where there's something new to learn, experience, or do, where there's life, there I will be.


Y fue a esa edad... Llegó la poesía
a buscarme. No sé, no sé de dónde
salió, de invierno o río.
No sé cómo ni cuándo,
no, no eran voces, no eran
palabras, ni silencio,
pero desde una calle me llamaba,
desde las ramas de la noche,
de pronto entre los otros,
entre fuegos violentos
o regresando solo,
allí estaba sin rostro
y me tocaba.

And it was at that age... Poetry arrived
in search of me. I do not know, I do not know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I do not know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.

- An excerpt from LA POESÍA (Poetry) by Pablo Neruda