“Some people went around interviewing dying patients, but not one person said they regretted not making more money or working harder.They all seemed to say their regrets werenot spending more time with thepeople they lovedand not travelling more and relating more to the world, to the planet.”
Título original: War Photographer / Año: 2001 / País: Suiza / Director: Christian Frei / Sinopsis: Multipremiado documental sobre el fotoreportero norteamericano James Nachtwey, considerado uno de los mejores fotógrafos de guerra del mundo. El film relata la historia de Nachtwey al tiempo que trata los sentimientos y dilemas a los que se enfrentan todos aquellos fotógrafos y periodistas que están cubriendo conflictos bélicos. (FILMAFFINITY)
“When he was 4 years old, he once wandered 6 blocks away from home at 3 o’oclock in the morning. He was found in a neighbour’s kitchen, up on a chair, taking through their candy drawer.
Whatever drawer he was opening now must have something pretty sweet on it.”
Such is the way of the world
You can never know
Just where to put all your faith
And how will it grow
Gonna rise up
Burning back holes in dark memories
Gonna rise up
Turning mistakes into gold
Such is the passage of time
Too fast to fold
And suddenly swallowed by signs
Low and behold
Gonna rise up
Find my direction magnetically
Gonna rise up
Throw down my ace in the hole
“I remember one morning getting up at dawn, there was such a sense of possibility. You know, that feeling? And I remember thinking to myself: So, this is the beginning of happiness. This is where it starts. And of course there will always be more. It never occurred to me it wasn’t the beginning. It was happiness. It was the moment. Right then.”
G.A.- There’s a little boy and on his 14th birthday he gets a horse… and everybody in the village says, “how wonderful. The boy got a horse” And the Zen master says, “we’ll see.” Two years later, the boy falls off the horse, breaks his leg, and everyone in the village says, “How terrible.” And the Zen master says, “We’ll see.” Then, a war breaks out and all the young men have to go off and fight… except the boy can’t cause his legs all messed up. and everybody in the village says, “How wonderful.”
C.W.- Now the Zen master says, “We’ll see.”
“Life on the road was something I was raised to embrace
Me ma always encouraged us to open our eyes and hearts to the world
Make up our own minds for experience and be inspired.
I see life in angles, in lines of perspective – the slow turn of a head, the blink of an eye, subtle glimpses of magic – other folk might pass by.
Cameras help me translate, interpret and understand what I see. It’s a
simple act that keeps me grinnin’. I never set out to become anything
in particular, only to live creatively and push the scope of my
experience for adventure and for passion. They still all mean
something to me, same as most anyone with dreams. My heart
bleeds celtic blood and I magnetize the familiar frontiers. The raw
brutal cold coastlands for the right waveriders to challenge – this is
where my heart beats hardest.
I try to pay tribute to that magic through photographs. Weathering
the endless staunch for rare glimpses of magic each winter is both a
blessing and a curse I relish.
I wanna see waveriding documented the way I see it in my head, and
the way I feel it in the sea. This is a strange set of skills to begin to
acquire. This is only achievable through time spent riding waves. All
sorts of waves on all sorts of crafts. There is more time spent learning
out on the water, floating in the sea amongst lumps and swells, you
always learn something. It’s been a lifelong wise old classroom
teacher of sorts and hopefully, it always will be. Buried beneath
headlands, shaping the coast, mind-blowing images of empty waves
burn away at me.
Solid ocean swells powering through deep cold water, heavy waves
weighs in wait, coaxed from comfortable routine, ignite the
imagination, conveys some of the viny spark, whisper possibilities,
conjure the situations I thrive amongst and love to document.
We all take knocks in the process – broken backs, drownings, neardrownings,
hypothermia, dislocations, fractures, frostbite, head
wounds, stitches, concussions, broke my arm – and that’s just the last
couple of years, still look forward to getting amongst it each winter
Cold creeping into your core, driving you mad, day after day,
mumbling to yourself while you hold position and wait for the next
set to come. The dark side of the lens – An artform that to itself and
us, silent workhorses of the surfing wake. There’s no sugary cliché.
Most folk don’t even know who we are, and what we do or how we
do it, let alone what they pay us for it.
I never want to take this for
granted so I try to keep motivation simple, real, and positive.
If I only scrape a living, at least it’s a living where I’m scraping.
If there’s no future in it, this is a present worth remembering.
For fires of happiness and waves of gratitude. For everything that
brought us to that point on earth at that moment in time, to do
something worth remembering with a photograph, or a scar -I feel
genuinely lucky and hand on heart say I love doing what I do. And I
may never be a rich man, or live long enough, then sadly I have a tale
or two for the nephews. And I dig the thought of that.”
“For what it’s worth: it’s never too late or, in my case too early, to be whoever you want to be.
There’s no time limit, start whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people who have a different point of view.
I hope you live a life you’re proud of, and if you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again.”