I Live To See Another Day

PHOTOGRAPHY AND TEXT BY STEVE SHIPMAN

I Live

I live with cancer. My life was turned upside down with that diagnosis five months ago. I struggled to get to grips with a life possibly curtailed to 12 months or so. Actually, I can't get to grips with that idea at all. It sits in my mind as a dark point in time, not that far ahead.

I am, or was, a reasonably successful photographer shooting mostly weddings - 30 a year or so. I made a painless transition to working with a brace of XPro2s, and a bevy of primes. I closed the business. I began the endurance test that is chemotherapy every three weeks - feeling crap, feeling ok, feeling good, then doing it all again. During the feeling good week, I am able to focus on my well-being a little more - enjoying my food, having more energy to see friends, and getting out with my camera, my beloved X100F. I live

To See

to see my two daughters growing into capable young women. To see my grandchildren one day. To see everything with more clarity, understanding and meaning and distil all of that into a photograph. My state of mind affects my image making profoundly, some days are better than others. Street photography isn't easy, and for a long time I avoided including people, not having the nerve, thinking it was too confrontational. I was simply looking for light, shapes, and textures. That's changing. The near invisibility of the X100F makes any shot possible. It all comes down to my own vision and reflexes.

Photographing on the street makes me happy. It's a brilliant distraction from the legal, financial and medical paperwork that needs my attention. It fulfils me creatively. The more I look the more I see. I'm getting bolder at including people in my images, and I complicate things further by seeking colour combinations and juxtapositions that I hope will lift the images to another level. To see

Another Day

another day is now a gift I seize with both hands and which I no longer take for granted. Cancer is an insidious disease, creeping malignantly and silently along its deadly course, robbing my life to feed its own. I have had four months of chemotherapy, along with the expected side effects (hair loss and fatigue) and some unexpected (a twice-torn retina and numb finger tips). I am very fortunate to now know that the treatment is working, and the tumours are shrinking. I have a temporary reprieve, and can relax a little. I have time to rebuild my body, and build on this body of work.

Yes, cancer has changed me. I'm more focussed. I try to cut through life's clutter more decisively. I make sure I have things planned and things to look forward to. I spend time with my family and friends, without whom I would have crumbled psychologically weeks ago. I have a joint exhibition next year to focus on, a couple of self-published books to plan, and a lot more images to create. I feel positive and excited and more conscious. Street photography is both rewarding and frustrating. That's its appeal - I never know what's round the corner. And if I don't get the shot this time, there's nearly always another day.

Editors note: Take a look at Steve's impressive celebrity portraits HERE and make sure to follow his personal blog HERE

The Hissing of...

“She could see the valley barbecues
From her window sill
See the blue pools in the squinting sun
Hear the hissing of summer lawns
”
— Joni Mitchell

By Patrick La Roque

My mind inevitably jumps to the opening scene of Edward Scissorhands—those pastel greens and baby blues, the prim and proper cult of summer lawns in full mechanical display. Modern life may have broken up rhythms but the ritual remains: North American suburbia is lawnmower country, through and through.

It’s messy, annoying, loud...and yet for me, the smell of freshly mowed grass IS summer. It’s pool water, buzzing cicadas and kids in the park, shouting at each other over popsicles. It’s my dad in his Kodiak boots, cigarette dangling from his mouth, planting tomatoes in the garden. Briquettes turning white hot in the family BBQ. My parents having tea outside as the sun sets and the bugs invade—damn mosquitoes.

So many promises and seasons gone,
     thru a haze of flies and a splash of gasoline.

The First 10 Seconds

There must be an incredible sense of hiraeth for a baby when it is born.  Perhaps, also, a complete misunderstanding of what has just occurred.  From the comfort and calm of the womb to the bright lights and noise of real life.

Birth itself if ephemeral.  The story that continues thereafter, lasts forever.  At the moment of a birth, love is created and bonds that can never be broken are generated with the ironic breaking of the physical ties between mother and child.

I spend a great deal of my time photographing people.  A majority of it as a storytelling wedding photographer, but I have a deep rooted passion for simply documenting people, being people.

I don't have the opportunity, nor perhaps skill, to shoot the types of beautiful stories that my Kage buddies shoot on a regular basis but when I can shoot true moments, like these, I feel rejuvenated.

This is The First 10 Seconds of a life.  Actually, not "a" life, but "Lenny's" life.  

Every human being is born naked to the world and equal.  

Our 24 Hour rolling news channels will have us think that mankind is doomed, and good humanity can't be derived from all the murder, hate and violence (apart from when the commercial breaks are on of course).

Actually, I think the world is safe.  We are a people of love.  We are a people of emotion and we are a good people that bring, other good people into this world.

All images shot on X-T2 with XF 23mm F2 Lens.

Partial

BY JONAS RASK

We want to evolve
We want to keep pushing
We want to achieve
We want to move

Us and them

We require
We do
We try
We might

Achieve through partial reflection

Last Tournament

BY BERT STEPHANI

2 days, 8 games and then it was over. The seemingly endless season of my son's soccer team but also the team in his current configuration. Next month will mark the start of the preparations for a new season, with a new team. But first there's one month of soccerless peace and quiet. 

7X014

It's My BirthdayKevin Mullins | GFX 50S, 1/125 sec at f2.8, ISO 160 (GF 63mm f2.8 R WR)

It's My Birthday

Kevin Mullins | GFX 50S, 1/125 sec at f2.8, ISO 160 (GF 63mm f2.8 R WR)

OPPOSITEsJonas Rask | X-Pro2 Graphite - Mitakon 35mm - f/0.95 - 1/500 sec - ISO200

OPPOSITEs

Jonas Rask | X-Pro2 Graphite - Mitakon 35mm - f/0.95 - 1/500 sec - ISO200

By the lakeBert Stephani | GFX50S - Minolta Rokkor 200mm - f/3.5 - 1/1000 sec - ISO100

By the lake

Bert Stephani | GFX50S - Minolta Rokkor 200mm - f/3.5 - 1/1000 sec - ISO100

Vertical FireRobert Catto | X-Pro 1, 1/300th at f/8, 800ISO (35mm f/1.4R)

Vertical Fire

Robert Catto | X-Pro 1, 1/300th at f/8, 800ISO (35mm f/1.4R)

VapeDerek Clark | X70 -1/500 sec - f/8 - ISO250 (18.5mm) 

Vape

Derek Clark | X70 -1/500 sec - f/8 - ISO250 (18.5mm)

 

YARD PARTYPatrick La Roque | X100F, 1/170 sec at f7.1, ISO 400.

YARD PARTY

Patrick La Roque | X100F, 1/170 sec at f7.1, ISO 400.

Seclusion//Sincerety

by Jonas Rask

Narration is linear. Narration starts and ends. 

Set intro. 
Set exit. 

All thoughts and actions in between are fluid. Up for grabs. Interpretable.

In the greatest narrative of all, some seek companionship. Some seek to share their path. To reflect and receive. To give way for others to shape the interpretable.

But not all. Some confine or expand to seclusion. They administer stories in solitude and expel excess. 
Parallel are the entities and parallel are the narratives, but the frame is set

Set intro
Set exit

Eduard

By BERT STEPHANI

He kills animals for a living almost daily, he's loud and outspoken without the ability to be politically correct or be tamed. Those traits earned Eduard a couple of minutes every week on a national television show and made him into a bit of a celebrity in Holland. He has gotten more time on air and, became one of the protagonists on a theatrical released documentary and reaches a lot of people through his Facebook page and YouTube channel. The camera loves his rugged appearance and the microphone hangs on to every one-liner. The media likes him to be controversial, wild and weird. Make no mistake, he is all that but there's more. His words and actions come from a deep place in which the media has little interest but I do.

Eduard and I don't agree on everything but we both enjoy the conversation anyway, wether it's laughter around a campfire or whispers in a makeshift blind.  He is the prototype of the rugged outdoorsman, you know, the kind they don't make anymore. He kills geese with his bare hands without flinching, lights a fire in seconds and doesn't use a fork if his hands can do the job. At the same time he is a renaissance man, a philosopher, a student, a professor and a gentle soul. The word "paradox" suits him very well.

I've always been attracted to people who have more layers than just a superficial shell. I believe most people have more layers but unfortunately not everyone is comfortable showing what's under their skin, although that's where I believe the truth lies. I'm thinking about doing more of these photo stories on remarkable people. Let me know if you think if that's a good plan. (Shot with a preproduction X100F and the GFX50S with the 63mm)

MATIERE GRISE

By Vincent Baldensperger

Gommer son image et ses signatures individuelles, changer de peau. Ne subsiste que l'enveloppe brute sans artifices. Tête, cœur, fond, derrière la matière grise sommes-nous encore à l'image d'un parfum, complexités intérieures aux apparences parfois trompeuses ?   

The Gentle Breeze Of The Blast

Photography & Text by Derek Clark

I had planned to follow-up my H2O post with another elements based piece about Air and decided to shoot something at Whitelee Windfarm on the 23rd of May. But that morning I woke up to the news that a suicide bomber had killed 19 people and injured many more at an Ariana Grande concert in Manchester (UK). More details found their way into each news bulletin as the morning progressed and the death total rose to 22.

I eventually got to the windfarm around 1:30pm and decided to listen to Ryuichi Sakamoto's latest album ‘Async’ as I began to photograph my subject. Ryuichi is in the middle of a battle with cancer and this album is heavily influenced by life and death. A perfect choice of music for this place and time. The mixture of vast open space with the eerie sounds of Async, mixed with the noise of the turbines that crept past my earphones. Then track 8 'Fullmoon' started to play and the voice of American author Paul Bowles spoke these words...

"Because we don't know when we will die, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens only a certain number of times, and a very small number really! How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood? Some afternoon that is so deeply a part of your being that you can't even conceive of your life without it. Perhaps four or five times more, perhaps not even that.
How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty, yet it all seems limitless."

Some of the victims of the Manchester bombing were children, the youngest being just eight years old. They'll never get the chance to look back on a special afternoon of their childhood. Likewise the countless others that have felt the wrath of western drones. It's all too easy after a devastating event like this, to see everything as good or bad, black or white. But there is no black and there is no white, only grey.

All pictures were shot with the Fujifilm X-Pro2 and the Lensbaby Composer Pro with Edge 80 optic. I used the Acros+R film simulation and applied a tone curve (S Curve), plus Clarity in Lightroom to the JPEG's. I also applied a vignette to some of the pictures. I shot RAW files too, but didn't use them.