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A while ago I read David Attenborough's book, Life on Air, a birthday gift from the kids. There was a chapter where he describes meeting a few Europeans transplanted into Australia's Outback. Some of these guys were spread out and estranged, not only from society at large but seemingly from each other as well. They were hermits in the truest sense. This resonates with me because I've always yearned to live a similar life of solitude (as mentioned in this post from a Colorado shoot). For this reason I've considered the most formative times of my life to be those in which I've lived alone in the middle of nowhere: in Ejido Charcos in the Coahuilan desert of Mexico; the back corner apartment of a quadriplex in a small panhandle town; and a rural cottage out in the country of Deep East Texas. Those are the places I like best.
So during my time in Mexico I could immediately identify with an individual that was the epitome of "hobo" or "hermit", as they say. His name was Rafaelito.
I'd noticed Rafaelito around the place, and asked my neighbors about him. They knew him well, and explained that he in fact was a graduate of a Bible college associated with the Christian Church in Eagle Pass, Texas, about an hour north of us along highway 57. In his younger days Rafaelito had a serious girlfriend. Unfortunately, as happens in life, the relationship ended, and something in him snapped. Things just weren't the same for him from then on.
Rafaelito vowed never again to involve himself with a girl, and to depend only upon God for sustenance and well-being. And that he did, literally walking away from his former life, going out into the monte of the deserts of northern Mexico. There he developed a solitary, nomadic lifestyle, migrating from one ejido to the other doing odd jobs in exchange for food. I would have said food and shelter, but Rafaelito refused indoor accommodation when it was offered, preferring to sleep under the stars next to a tree or, when the wind was up, on the lee side of a crude lean-to fashioned from whatever was handy. At times, early in the morning, I would see him emerge from the countryside to use the restroom in our outhouse before stepping inside a close neighbor's house for a breakfast to start his day. I observed also that never far away from him was a shoe box in which he carried all of his worldly possessions.
Now one may think that such an individual would be odd, crazy, aloof, resentful, moody or all of the above, but quite the opposite was true. Rafaelito was friendly, approachable, and one of the most content human beings I have ever met. He was knowledgeable and conversant about the Bible, his favorite subject, and sought any opportunity to share his faith. With regard to his lifestyle he eagerly related that he had all anyone needs in life, and one time showed me the contents of his shoe box: a Swiss army knife with spoon and fork, a small mirror and razor for shaving, a few pictures, a bar of soap carefully wrapped in paper, a Bible and a hymnal. I was amazed.
I first got to know Rafaelito during the summer of 1980, and thereafter when I returned for a visit sometimes he would be there and sometimes not; his migratory pattern would take him to ejidos far and wide. When he wasn't around, sometimes at night I would look up at the starry expanse and wonder if he, at that very moment, was gazing at the same sky from under his tree of choice out in the monte. I imagined that yes, he was there, totally at peace with God and his station in life, no doubt more so than most of the rest of us.
But that is far from the end of the story. Years later, after I'd married, had two kids and a career, and was pushing through my mid-forties, my wife had a choice of places to go for a business trip: Dallas, San Francisco or Lubbock. I requested that she go to Lubbock so that I could show her God's country and my old haunts from back in the day. Her coworkers and friends thought she was crazy when she put in the travel request.
To Lubbock we went at the appointed time. And while Chenjean and our two kids didn't exactly catch on to the beauty and mystery of the West Texas vibe, I thoroughly enjoyed showing them around Amarillo and environs, including the slaughter house where I earned college money and the grave of a dear friend. And of course we visited some of my old friends, those most responsible for a conversion into the church and subsequently the trajectory of my adult life.
And not one person was more responsible for that than Ramón García. We were visiting with him at his house, when after an hour of catching up and small talk my friend became quiet for a moment, then said he had something for me. He left the room and came back with a small bag in his hand. It was the kind of plaid mesh bag you see in Mexico with plastic handles sticking up from the top.
Ramón said that Rafaelito had died a while before, and here were the contents of the fabled shoe box, though they had been transferred to the more modern mesh bag by then. Ramón showed me what he'd decided to keep (the Swiss knife), then handed me the bag with the remainder of the contents. He said they'd been saving it for me, since Rafaelito would have wanted me to have it. I was beyond words to think that, after decades of having not seen any of them or even visited my old home in Mexico, an humble campesino from the monte - my friend who slept under the stars - would have given a thought to this gringo who was with them for such a short time.
So now this precious possession, Rafaelito's mesh bag with almost all of his worldly possessions, sits high on a shelf in a closet of my suburban home. And when, in spite of all the worldly comfort with which I've been blessed, I get to feeling sorry for myself or consider myself under stress, all I have to do is glance at that bag, in the direction of my contented friend, and am again renewed with a more proper perspective on what our place is in the world.
God bless you, Rafaelito.
Stepping to the left of where yesterday's post was captured revealed this tower, which I think is the bell tower. Being tall and picturesque, I made it a point to get closer and capture it in isolation with story-writing in mind, as you'll see in the next three posts...
Since the pagodas were all built the same and arranged so geometrically it was easy to find and capture patterns. By themselves these guys are pretty interesting, but together they are downright beautiful.
And each one had a different museum on its first floor. We went into about three of them but didn't have the time to stay long...
From a little lower, captured through an aperture in the wall. Zoomed in a little with focus shifted to the dragon below:
Looking out onto the grounds, this is a pretty clear view of the eight pagodas and other accoutrements of the Buddhist faith. Fascinating to imagine the dedication, perseverance, faith and money it took to construct all of this. And by Chinese standards it's very, very new; construction began in 2008 and it opened to the public in December of 2011.
Stepping back outside, got this perspective of one of the four Noble Truth Stupas arrayed before the gargantuan statue. Each of the individuals depicted is unique in expression and hand positioning, but the posture in most is essentially the same.
Closer view below of some at the base below, and a closer view of one of them in tomorrow's post:
The second - and one of only two keepers - from inside the museum. Didn't do well with glowing edges, so applied the oil paint effect in Photoshop for grins:
Only kept two pictures from inside the museum, this being one. There are hundreds of individuals (Arhats) depicted, each unique in his expression, posture and hand positioning. Most amazing...
Gradient perfectly smooth in Photoshop...not sure how it would look on your monitor.
A couple more captured with angles in mind. I was going to take out the light fixture above, but saw the bird and decided to keep it in...
From a photographer's point of view this place was great, what with all the angles and shapes. Could have spent more time playing with this, but had to keep up with the family. Managed to capture a few keepers, however, with heavy touching up usually needed to lighten the foreground against a bright sky.
Next stop was the Fo Guang Shan Buddha Museum where this gigantic statue sits. Listed as one of the top 10 landmarks in Taiwan, this - the largest sitting bronze Buddha statue in the world - tops out at 108 meters from the ground; the pedestal is 10 meters high with the statue itself up another 40 meters. Something worth seeing even if you're not a Buddhist.
We hung around here for most of an afternoon. I was frankly getting bored with postcard-ish pictures, and the feeling among my friends that that's what I'm after as a photographer - but here we were and there was opportunity for lots of those, so here they are for you as well. I did enjoy the practice gained in Photoshop to make them presentable.
To cap things off here we have another 3-shot panorama, this time of the back of the place.
Next stop, a Buddhist museum and shrine the likes of which you've never seen before...
Once inside we found the place practically empty, which made it easy to snap some people-less pics...with the exception of this one of Terry sitting on a beanbag. Focus shifted below:
The doors finally opened, and we entered to be greeted with this hello in Chinese and English. Guess that day they didn't have much in the way of performing arts going on, as there couldn't have been more than 50 people in the whole place...very sparse, but good for my type of photography.
The building was designed with these beautiful, sensuous curves everywhere you looked...
The openings of these huge hallways to the outside invite window shots such as this and the one below:
This is what greets the visitor after rounding that bend to the left to go inside. We were there before things opened up, so the lot of us were loitering here or exploring the other vast open-air hallways. Fortunately a piano, which my nephew Terry is playing, is provided to help while away the time. He appears to have a rapt audience of two standing and one sitting, with Chenjean and her sister, Sue-fen, sitting behind.
Another view of Terry and his audience - which was now two - below:
After Terry finished I sat down to play a song I wrote when I was twelve years old. It is variously called "Trash" or "Litter" because the spirit came from the early-70's PSA on television about littering. An Indian, played by Ed Ames, paddles down a pristine river in his canoe and when he stops on a sandbar you can see trash being thrown at his feet, then a trickle of tears runs down his cheek due to the damage being done to Mother Earth. Quite moving...and the background music played five notes in succession that became the nucleus of my song. I was pleased, and encouraged, when these ladies clapped.
Getting closer, it's easy to see how the bold curves and shapes guide the visitor into the interior (that's my family in the background making their way in). But the reason I took the picture in the first place is the guy on the bicycle holding an umbrella. It was hot and sunny on a mid-May day, and lots of folks use them to shade from the sun in Taiwan (side note: the Spanish word for umbrella, parasol, literally means "for the sun"), but not too many I've seen while riding a bicycle. And to top it off, he has a girl - presumably his daughter - on the front. The are both wearing masks, and it appears she is holding the umbrella. See below for extremely cropped-in shot:
While in Kaohsiung we had to take in the Performing Arts Center, situated in the center of town. It's relatively new, and there wasn't much going on there at the time, but the shape and bold curves gave it a sensuous beauty that I was eager to capture.
The pic above is a three-shot panorama of the exterior of the building as we approached from the road. Since it was virtually empty there weren't many people around, great for my style of photography.
Know I posted a similar pic at the beginning but I like night shots so here is another one. This was captured hand-held, using a wall in the hotel room to stabilize the Bigger Cahoona.
Ending the River of Love series with a semi-night shot here...a few from the Performing Arts Center in Kaohsiung next.
Now back up to the room for a pic of something through this lace curtain, complete with focus shift to the right...
Penny for that guy's thoughts...
And now for my second favorite pic in Kaohsiung. I'll perhaps clean this petal up a bit one day and make a print. Thought about this pic as I noticed this thing laying on the ground.
With blue background, then the original background below:
Everyone once in a while you'll see an animal participating in a wedding. YouTube has hundreds of videos of dogs acting as ring bearers or performing some other function in the ceremony, and there is one with a couple of llamas sent in to surprise the bride.
Well, I attended a wedding in which a horse was called upon to walk the aisle. Kevin and Megan, my best friends in college, sent us an invitation to their daughter's wedding, so the wife and I drove up to Arkansas to be there. It was an awesome, rustic venue - a barn out in the country - surrounded by gently rolling hills and a small lake down by the way. The ceremony itself was conducted outdoors, and the weather cooperated beautifully.
There were originally supposed to be two horses - one for him and one for her - and after saying their vows they were to literally ride off into the sunset. But as fortune would have it the groom-to-be had a four-wheeler accident just days before the big event and was unable to sit on his horse. Thus, we're down to one horse, a mare named Roxy. But at the right moment she very obediently clopped down the aisle and stood long enough to see them get hitched (pun intended, sort of). After it was over she was led down to the lake where she cavorted while the party and guests made their way up to the barn for the reception.
Of course I went nuts over all of this, as I love (and miss) the country and anything that is out of the ordinary (which I also miss). Was tempted to bring the Bigger Cahoona, but didn't want to distract with the shutter noise or get in the way of the professional photographer hired for the occasion. Therefore no pictures, but - besides having the chance to visit good friends - it was wonderful to be there and see a life of love begin with the help of friends and family - including those of a different species...
Best tree pattern branch picture I've ever seen was at a picture store on Maui, and as it turns out the photographer was from here in Houston! Would love to meet the guy and get some tips, or at least glean something from his creative spirit.
Silhouette of same below:
