What's gonna make me get a bike and ride it coast to coast

Am not sure if I even like landscape photography. But I love landscape in general, open spaces, variety of lines all around me, the horizon line so far away you can barely see it, but you do see it, this feeling of smallness when you are in the middle of nowhere and the only thing that surrounds you is space. And it takes time to get closer to things, as the distances are so massive. I love being in such spaces, spaces that Ansel Adams photographed. He also said something that strikes a chord with me:
'I hope that my work will encourage self expression in others and stimulate the search for beauty and creative excitement in the great world around us.'

And along more random lines, this is what I came across when I was looking for Ansel Adams' images. On /www.flocny.com/blog/, run by a couple, at least they look like a couple, even if they are not, they look lovely together, and they have their own tee brand. And loads of cool stuff on their blog. I love their inspirations, their inspirational photos...And the one below is of Claire, 50% of the couple. 

Hyper realist graphite and charcoal DRAWINGS by American artist, ROBERT LONGO
And also from their blog, USA by Eggleston.
And I look at photos of America, I read American writers, I want to go there, yet I sometimes feel kind of angry that I am under America's spell... whether I want it or not. I hear politicians, arts people, film makers, whoever really, referring to the US, comparing Poland, or other countries to America all the time and it pisses me off. It really does. And what do I do? I want to know about American photographers, I want to go there, I spend hours going through images of the country that I've not visited once and I am dreaming of visiting soon.


  1. Mariposa, do tych rozmyślań o przestrzeni i naszym w niej przemykaniu, dołączam wiersz Simona Ortiza, który jest poetyckim odpowiednikiem tych obrazow:

    "Beyond South Dakota and There"

    There isn’t a single car or truck
    On Highway 18 from Mission to Okreek tonight.
    Except for us.
    There is nothing but the night sky.
    The moon a huge pendant.
    Stars somewhere
    between South Dakota
    and somewhere
    there in the cosmos.

    Where we go is always down this road,
    Believing the prairie gives way to machines.
    Yet because our belief is weak,
    We look to other notations
    from the prairie hills and the sky above
    and all around.
    It is a mirror; we could be the image.
    Travelers on silver roads between galaxies.
    (. . . )
    We are anxious to pass through this galaxy to the next.
    Travelling in the night sky,
    Believing we are its image,
    We know we will reach there. (15-16)


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