Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. That was me. I thought I knew everything when I was young. Haha. I'm still young, and I still think I know everything. But I was wrong here. About the window and the low light. Moving vehicles are the shit. The trick is not to try to make it look static. And once you accept movement in your picture, the possibilities are endless. Uf. That sounds gigantic.
So. As I had little else to do in the train in Slovakia, I pulled out my camera and started to shoot away. It took a while before I had the flow of having the right settings for the right moment. The the ideal distance of the object from the train varied, and there was often no time to anticipate. I had to improvise. And take many.
This was the first one that turned out well. I call it triangles. Because of the triangles. Note the twisting lines. Did you ever realise that a picture, even if the shutterspeed is a 4000th of a second, could not be taken without the passing of time? That means that every picture movement hidden inside it. These lines make it apparent.
Lifetimes pass inside this house. Yet we perceive it in a flash.
So houses dance inside. We don't genereally see it, but I believe they really do.
We passed by a bobsleigh lane.
And this explosive tank.
It started to get darker.
The sun played tricks. The camera helped by zooming in.
We stood still. But how still can one really stand? I for one am not very good at it.
Once we were back on track, we passed some vibrant electricity poles.
The sun set deeper.
But we kept moving.
Onwards. Into the dark.
Where the light of the train demanded some attention.
A station came. Went. Came back. And went again. And then it came back again. As if there was no coming or going.
We slowly moved along.
There were lines on our way.
And then I noticed the northern light. It had taken a journey to the south. One cannot and should not deny it its rights.
More lines came. And turned the tide.
When they passed, I found out that the train's inner and outer worlds are sometimes almost equally bright
Not always, though.
And colours are dynamic.
The train's speed decreased. We arrived.
My girlfriends brother and she came to pick me up by car.
Another train passed by.
And here we were. At home. Final stop for now.
But once a prejudice is killed, a once locked up spirit feels alive again. So here's a few more moving shots of the week that followed.
Lakelife.
Scaffolding is my new best friend.
More triangles.
Some trains in Slovakia are this blue. I advised them to go see a shrink, but they didn't listen.
May you have a good night. Or week. Or rest of your life. May it be good. I know that's off topic, but topics are by far not as sacred as life. And weeks. And nights.