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Old Man on Steps near Drum Tower While I was circling the Drum Tower in Beijing, there was a small community of people that were outside exercising, milling around, talking, and watching the world go by. Many of the homes in the little houtong had their doors painted red, and that was a common element that tied everything together. I had my hip-shooter with me too so I could capture this one.- Trey RatcliffClick here to read the rest of the post at the Stuck in Customs blog.
Neo-Gypsy in the Desert I was walking across the playa at Burning Man with Tom when we came across this gypsy of sorts. She was kind of dancing through the desert eating a bag of chips. That was surreal and everything, but then it felt even stranger when she pulled out her iPhone to make a few notes about our meeting. She typed in stuckincustoms.com so she would be sure to visit when she got back to civilization.- Trey RatcliffClick here to read the rest of this post at the Stuck in Customs blog.
White Flower in Desert This is from Burning Man two years ago.I can’t even remember why I set up in this area to take a shot. I was sort of drawn to it. It was so interesting to me. In some ways, it matters why the flowers are there and it doesn’t matter why they are there. And you can say the same thing about every little part of this photo. To me, this is all very nice and I can’t quite put my finger on it.- Trey RatcliffClick here to read the rest of this post at the Stuck in Customs blog.
There was only one light, from her torch that she held while she rode by on a bike at full speed. I remember that the flame made a sound. It was the close sound of a small sail catching wind. It would muffle itself, then catch wind again. The gentle rumble of the flame reached a crescendo as she passed. I thought it lit her face so nicely, and her mask was so mysterious. I have no idea who she was, and she probably didn’t want anyone to know who she was. That was very nice in a world without secrets, I thought.
Man Sketching in Uzès After spending the day walking around the old market, I started to walk back to where I started. Weaving through small alleys, I would occasionally enter larger courtyards. In one of them, I saw this man, sitting on a step, and sketching the scene. When I took the photo, he looked up and gave a little smile, then went back to his business. - Trey Ratcliff Read more here at the Stuck in Customs blog.
The fire spun in a time the lasted forever in an instant. The man inside obeyed and commanded it, weaving himself into a veil between what we saw and what he felt. Inside, we saw each flame and it stayed with with us. In another day, the tower behind would burn. I watched him dance. There was a fine powder of sand above the hard-packed earth. The powder was like a dust, a cloud, a fog, a mist that where his toes slipped around and through. The mist would eddy and fall and rise in time for him to slide back through, the orange light from the flames above fell into and through the mist, dancing with his gentle feet.
Burning Man 2011 (74 of 135)
Burning Man 2011 (33 of 34)
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
There was only one light, from her torch that she held while she rode by on a bike at full speed. I remember that the flame made a sound. It was the close sound of a small sail catching wind. It would muffle itself, then catch wind again. The gentle rumble of the flame reached a crescendo as she passed. I thought it lit her face so nicely, and her mask was so mysterious. I have no idea who she was, and she probably didn’t want anyone to know who she was. That was very nice in a world without secrets, I thought.
There was only one light, from her torch that she held while she rode by on a bike at full speed. I remember that the flame made a sound. It was the close sound of a small sail catching wind. It would muffle itself, then catch wind again. The gentle rumble of the flame reached a crescendo as she passed. I thought it lit her face so nicely, and her mask was so mysterious. I have no idea who she was, and she probably didn’t want anyone to know who she was. That was very nice in a world without secrets, I thought.
There was only one light, from her torch that she held while she rode by on a bike at full speed. I remember that the flame made a sound. It was the close sound of a small sail catching wind. It would muffle itself, then catch wind again. The gentle rumble of the flame reached a crescendo as she passed. I thought it lit her face so nicely, and her mask was so mysterious. I have no idea who she was, and she probably didn’t want anyone to know who she was. That was very nice in a world without secrets, I thought.
See photo in original gallery.
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