May 14, 2009

This is your new reality

Found this rather haunting picture in a series of photographs by blind photographers.. part of a spectacular new exhibit at the University of California, Riverside which "raises extraordinary questions about the nature of sight."
Kurt Weston, Mask
(c) by the artist, courtesy of UCR/California Museum of Photography
A gay man who lost his sight to AIDS in 1996, Weston's work explores the stigma of disease and decay. His daily battle to stay alive is transformed into an unflinching look at his (and our) mortality: "These photographs are about the realization of loss," he says. "About losing your facade. They say, 'This is your new reality. This is your strange new flesh. Let's take a look." 

Reminds me of this excerpt from a poem (Embrace) by Mark Doty:
You weren't well or really ill yet either;
just a little tired, your handsomeness
tinged by grief or anticipation, which brought
to your face a thoughtful, deepening grace.  
Here's another great one from the series..
Gerardo Nigenda, Entre lo invisible y lo tangible, llegando a la homeostasis emocional
 (c) by the artist, courtesy of UCR/California Museum of Photography
Born in Oaxaca, Mexico, the 42-year-old Nigenda calls his images "Fotos cruzados," or "intersecting photographs." As he shoots, he stays aware of sounds, memories, and other sensations. Then he uses a Braille writer to punch texts expressing those the things he felt directly into the photo. The work invokes an elegant double blindness: Nigenda needs a sighted person to describe the photo, but the sighted rely on him to read the Braille. The title of this work translates roughly to: "Between the invisible and the tangible, reaching an emotional homeostasis."

Lots more gems at the link. Do go and enjoy the visions of these blind people. Like one of them (Pete Eckert) says: 'If you can't see, it's because your vision is getting in the way."

No comments:

Not one more refugee death, by Emmy Pérez

And just like that, my #NPM2018 celebrations end with  a poem  today by Emmy Pérez. Not one more refugee death by Emmy Pérez A r...