Keep it moving
Apparently this seems to be my mantra without me really knowing it. I might have to elaborate a bit on that, as I don’t necessarily mean the physical act of moving.
It’s been nearly a month since I left Norway and for the people who don’t follow my whereabouts on instagram; by now I have been roaming India for the past three weeks. It has been wandering indeed, as I had no idea what the plan would be.
I still don’t by the way. There was no preparation, other than the idea of starting in Delhi at Lisa’s place; my colleague at my Company of Many project. She has been correspondent for a Dutch newspaper for the past 2 years and till now I hadn’t visited her yet. So I figured it was about time. Having an excuse to visit my beloved India once again being a beautiful bonus.
Before continuing the obvious diary-like travel journal that is imminent, I’d like to briefly go back to December last year. I visited a lecture of a dear acquaintance and brilliant photographer, Rahi Rezvani, given at the Leica store in Amsterdam. As I find myself highly inspired whenever I look at his work and specially when he elaborates on his personal visions on photography, art and life. One of his topics was his love for monochrome photography, in particular, done with the Leica Monochrom. Being the enthusiast that I can be every now and again, I mentioned to the people of the store that I was still dreaming of a second-hand older model of said Monochrom. I fell in love with this camera when I was asked to try it out some eleven years ago by the importer of Leica. And of course I did… in India.
And there you have it. I guess this is how manifesting works. Only one week before heading for Norway, two weeks before traveling to… wait for it… India, I get a call from the Leica store, they have got a perfect condition, second-hand M 246 Monochrom, the exact version ‘I apparently had ordered with the universe’.
Call it whatever you want, to me it was an omen. A more obvious indication I was supposed to travel to the country of chai, bringing an exclusively black & white shooting camera with me, I couldn’t imagine. So I bought it.
Fast forward to this trip. Three weeks it has been by now. I have stayed at Lisa’s place in Delhi, enjoying a peek into the expat-bubble that normally is inaccessible to me. Also having my first insights of this trip, realising I might really want to and try to be interested in architecture, history and temples. I’m not.
At least not photography wise. It’s not for lack of trying, I’m just most likely to be in awe only briefly. Unless there’s somebody around me who is really passionate about it. Only then I can feel my own interest increase as well. Not for the building, the old times or any random God, but for the excitement one is displaying while talking to me (or to others). I’m captivated by people, clearly.
Re-discovering that principle, I realised this has always been the case. Just take a look at the series of pictures I took in this massif Kamasutra temple Khajuraho, 11 years ago, in India, with the Monochrom.
Back to Delhi, Lisa and I visited an exhibition of Indian Magnum photographer Raghu Rai. It was small, but brilliant. I loved it as it was extremely inspiring. All pictures were self portraits or portraits taken of him, by other photographers. I realised instantly how cool it would be, to not only take selfies when I decide to make myself important on instagram, but actually take the stage while doing what I love. In an artistic, creative way.
While pondering some more over this, I suddenly got asked about my camera bag. While traveling I mostly carry this small inconspicuous black camera bag that doesn’t look like a camera bag, but actually is a very expensive camera bag. A young Indian photo enthousiast apparently noticed it and was bold enough to start a conversation with a complete stranger.
Ishan turned out to be an avid street photographer using a Leica Q and wishing for the bag I have been carrying with me on so many journeys. We started chatting and he showed Lisa an me all the Rhagu Rai photo books he had brought to get signed. Like I said, passion ignites passion inside of me and I just really enjoyed seeing his eagerness in anything and everything that had to do with photography. We exchanged insta-accounts and I even got Lisa to take a photo of and Raghu Rai and me.
As the smog in Delhi started to annoy my lungs and I had seen what I wanted to see for now, it was time for me to move. As I have seen quite a bit of India, but haven’t spend any decent amount of time in the countries third biggest city, I decided to go to Kolkata. By train would safe me quite some money and as I believe everything can be an adventure and I didn’t have any big plans yet, I bought a ticket. Long story short. Great idea, but the execution sucked big time. Yes it was an adventure. Even though a delay - before leaving - of 9 hours is shit, I wasn’t on a time schedule, so… whatever. But that wasn’t all… The ride was supposed to take 17 hours over 1500 km. I ended up being on route for thirty fucking two hours…. 32! There’s your adventure. Another insight came to me, while enjoying the stiffness of a wooden plank that was supposed to be a comfortable bed for the duration of the trip; maybe I’m getting too old for this shit. Or at least, I have done it, several times. Maybe I can allow myself to choose a more comfortable way of traveling in the future.
Arriving in Kolkata I had already received a message from Ishan. Apparently Kolkata is his hometown and he was visiting family that week. We decided to go out and photograph together at the ghats and some other picturesque places. We only had to get up at 6.30. Right… a photo-enthusiast. Something new this trip, but a welcome incentive to actually do something. I suddenly became aware that I had been slacking for a while. No judgement, or regret, just a confronting observation.
Shooting with this guy was a blast. Just watching him look around, being patient at some moments, but being all over the place at other times was hilarious. He reminded me of the local traffic; just go! Claiming your spot and being in the face. I realised I am very well adjusted. I come from a place where nowadays we ask permission before firing the shutter button. Not every street photographer does I admit, but in general the ‘woke community of the West’ doesn’t go well by a person sticking a wide-angle lens in your face and immortalising your most unattractive expression of the day. It’s a fine line that a lot of street photographers balance on, and that I am highly uncomfortable with. Not Ishan. Like I said, Indian traffic, horn and all.
Great thing about our morning wasn't that I could just watch and learn this young ball of energy. We philosophised on photography, writing, people, war, love and life. Hearing his point of view, formulating my own ramblings and perspectives, listening and discussing , it was a feast of inspiration, illumination and insights. Once he had left, I returned to the ghats and the little streets, to practice and reminisce the things we talked about.
So you see, the moving I’m talking about is not physically per se. It’s about discovery and re-discovery of al the stuff that makes me tik. This became even more apparent in the last week. As I got sticky feet after a couple of days, I decided to go on a little excursion, visiting Sundarban; the biggest mangrove delta in the world, only a couple of hours South of the city. Taking a train, bus, boat and a tuktuk might make you think I didn't learn anything of that last train-ride, but that would be a faulty assumption. I did learn. Not necessarily in traveling, but I dit make reservations in this nice resort kinda place. Food came included, I had a nice room and I even decided to go all out and see If I could be interested in nature.
So I booked a private boat for a day, taking me to the jungle. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it all felt way to excessive and luxurious. It felt like cheating, though I didn’t know who I would be cheating. Was it myself? The image I have of myself? The image I assume you might have of me…? Whoever you might be….
Who or whatever it was, it turned out that I had a full day of just floating the waters of Sundarban, to think this over and feel it all out. Because, regardless of the price, damn this boat ride was probably one of the most boring things I have done in a while… Yes, it surpassed the train ride, thank God it wasn’t that long.
Don’t get me wrong, the air was close to the freshness of Norway, which seems ages ago. And the view…. well the view was shores of green with the occasional bird flying up and down. Creating an over enthusiasm of my mandatory guide who was counting the amount of different species of King Fisher birds we would spot. His enthusiasm being one of the highlights of my day.
The next day, I explored the island I was staying on. A wonderful idea. Starting in fog, I once again fell in love with my Monochrom camera. It captured the mist so beautifully and all the subtle shades of grey just really made me happy. And then there was this girl in a red sari. Luckily she was far away, so I grabbed my other camera, the color one, as it had the 50mm on it. Still not a lot of zoom, but more than the 35mm I was shooting on. Fuck, that came out nice. Back to the hotel for breakfast and after that, more walking around the island. Now without fog. And with shit fucking loads of color. Did I buy the wrong camera?
I keep telling myself it’s cool to not convert color pictures into black and white, but to actually choose beforehand.Now I wonder; what’s cool about it? It’s actually really annoying, as I am continuously doubting my decisions. whenever I shoot a monochrome photo that hits the mark, I’m over the moon. Whenever I shoot a colourful scene that comes out right, I’m ecstatic as well… At the same time, in both cases, there is the question if it wouldn’t have been better to use the other camera, or a different lens. The interesting part is that I started to realise that these thoughts are there. I started to study them. They started to become extremely interesting as they don’t seem to hold judgement. Nor do they appear to hold regret. If anything, they hold a strange form of curiosity towards myself that can actually occupy me so much that I forget to shoot for the next 20 minutes.
During conversation with Ishan, I confided in him that I wanted to speak on stage and I wanted to write more. ‘What about’? he asked. ‘I guess I want to write about curiosity toward everything, mostly my self I have to confess. I want to lecture about photography being able to be sort of a gateway drug to being inquisitive towards people as well as their and even more your own choices in, and outlook on life.’
I guess this blog is called keep it moving, as it is about me moving. Not physically, but mentally moving. Working on manifesting stuff and opportunities, taking inspiration and actually instantly using it, feeling a desire and not only speaking it loudly and boldly (while shitting myself), but also working towards that desire with however small steps. This journey started out by journeying towards India with no apparent goal. By now I have started taking more creative selfies, questioning my way of photography over and over again, shared my desire to educate and lecture on the topic as well as the desire to write about it. Which I not only did in this extremely long blog, but in several instagram posts as well. All vulnerable, open, honest and secretly with some added color in my underpants.
And it’s only just begun…. (seriously??) In three days I travel to Sri Lanka for a short visit of two weeks, meeting another friend, doing some more shooting and checking out the beach. After that I still have about 5 more weeks to go before heading back home.. Starting in Mumbai. I’ll be continuing these attempts to write interesting and entertaining monologues on these journeys through both countries, my head as well as through life.
