The Photographic World of Tom Wasilewski

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Category: reportaż (page 1 of 3)

August

Curious coincidences in our constellation
Unlike capturing a fallen star
These coincidences say this is a strange universe
Caramelized and caught in time

from

 

 

DB6

“Power, Beauty, and Soul.”
Aston Martin’s slogan

Chassis Number: DB6/3443/R
Engine Number: 400/3519
UK Registration Number: TVB 964 F
Date of first reg: 18th July 1968

Very late light

You know how we’ve grown
Love without your every time.

Well everyone needs a right time
When I see the pictures of every life and the day they die,
It’s your image burnt into my mind
And again I’d find
That it’s worth the..
Why my love has that is right our time.

Our love comes back in the middle of the night…

James Blake/ (Late Night Tales: Ólafur Arnalds) – Our Love Comes Back

 

The Street

Here is a long and silent street.
I walk in blackness and I stumble and fall
and rise, and I walk blind, my feet
trampling the silent stones and the dry leaves.
Someone behind me also tramples, stones, leaves:
if I slow down, he slows;
if I run, he runs I turn : nobody.
Everything dark and doorless,
only my steps aware of me,
I turning and turning among these corners
which lead forever to the street
where nobody waits for, nobody follows me,
where I pursue a man who stumbles
and rises and says when he sees me : nobody.

— Octavio Paz

 


Pentax K-1,
Voigtlander 40mm f/2 Ultron SL II,
Voigtlander Color-Skopar 20mm f/3.5 SL II Aspherical

(almost) perfect storm

…it was a short trip from Nigg Bay to Greyhope Bay in stormy evening of February 7, 2017 …
I think that I probably never get used to these dates with “two” in the beginning …
How it would sound beautifully: 7 February, Anno Domini 1917 .. .
Rain and wind …

Farewell Aberdeen

sea stories… scent of the sea… fleeing time…

Black Wave

“I want to explain how exhausted I am. Even in my dreams. How I wake up tired. How I’m being drowned by some kind of black wave.”

Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation

First gallery this year…

The City in the Sea

In a strange city lying alone

Far down within the dim West,

Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best

Have gone to their eternal rest.

There shrines and palaces and towers

(Time-eaten towers that tremble not!)

Resemble nothing that is ours.

Around, by lifting winds forgot,

Resignedly beneath the sky

The melancholy waters lie.

Tʜᴇ Cɪᴛʏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ Sᴇᴀ/Eᴅɢᴀʀ Aʟʟᴀɴ Pᴏᴇ

Goodbye Sunday

ᴊᴇsɪᴇń ᴋʀᴏᴄᴢąᴄᴀ ᴊᴀᴋ ᴄʜʏᴛʀʏ ᴡɪᴇʟᴍᴏżᴀ
ᴏɢᴀʀɴɪᴀᴊąᴄᴀ ᴅᴏᴍ ᴍᴏ́ᴊ ᴍɢʟɪsᴛʏᴍ ᴘłᴀsᴢᴄᴢᴇᴍ
ɪ śᴘɪᴇᴡᴀᴊąᴄᴀ ʟɪśᴄɪᴏᴍ ᴋᴏłʏsᴀɴᴋę

Jᴀʀᴏsłᴀᴡ Iᴡᴀsᴢᴋɪᴇᴡɪᴄᴢ

zéng

…in color and black’n’white