You know, when you browse through a hundred thousand photos a day on social networks...if only you would hit the pause button and contemplate those images, and put your own words and impressions next to them. Images become stories. So, this time there are no images to show...only words. These are like a bunch of photographic haikus.
For some people there’s no progress in fashion. An old man resting by a street lamp post gripping his walking stick and a stripy shopping bag. The contents of the bag might not be from a shop though, it is more likely that they came from a nearby dumpster. His hat looks like a miner’s hat from the communist times, and his jacket too is some kind of old worn out jacket. It reminds me of those jackets which were worn by hundreds of thousands of people during the Communism. His face is full of wrinkles, and he lets his head down.
There’s a poster advertising a Christmas fayre, a karate dojo and another one trying to sell property. In the distance a bank. People rushing by.
Contrast in fashion. On a snowy afternoon, the snow has settled on the sidewalks, but it has melted on the roads. Cars whizzing by. Two people are waiting for the bus at a bus shelter. A man wearing a balaclava and shorts. He must be a bit cold though. A woman tucking her hands under her jacket, wearing several layers of clothing. The bus must be arriving, because she’s stepping closer to the edge of the sidewalk.
A woman putting on make up. Her hair is dyed red. There’s bits of dye on her cheek, and her lips are covered with lipstick. Her hands are working hands. It is important for her to look good.
An old woman on the train station, probably waiting for the train. Her fingers interlocked. She’s watching over her canisters (probably full of wine) and her handbag. She might try to sell some on the market. Pensions are low. Her face reflects sadness.
A man is just being arrested. There’s a stupid grin on his face. Two policemen are holding him on the side of a river. He must’ve been in the water, because his clothes are soaking wet. The policemen must’ve jumped after him because they’re soaking wet too. There must’ve been a fight as well, because their faces are bruised. He’ll probably get more beating at the station.
An older man, lower middle class, holding some paper money in his mouth, reaching after it with his hand.
The hope for a better life or the look of contentment is the look of an older woman who lived in a village all her time. She’s embracing a sweetcorn. Behind her is the sweetcorn field. The sun is slowly going down. The sky is painted in violet and orange. The old woman is hoping for a better crop next year.
A gipsy woman selling lavender on the street. Lavender flowers are tied together in smaller bunches. Her daughter is sleeping on a stripy bag crawled up next to the wall. People are rushing by.
The market is called New Times. But the times are hard and don’t seem to be new at all. A gipsy boy is sitting on his carriage transporting waste on the middle of the road, whilst police men are smiling at him. The boy is hitting the horse with a piece of wood.
Shopping centre. An overweight woman is sitting in a massage chair, after throwing in a coin. A KFC bag next to her. The woman seems to be enjoying the massage very much.
An old woman dressed in black crawled up next to a wall, like a sad old raven. Tired, hopeless look on her face. There’s a poster behind her on the wall, advertising a radio show entitled confessions about life. I wonder what she would confess?
A man dressed in an ancient costume holding a bow and arrows. A horse sitting on it’s back behind the rider. We were a rider nation once. Today a shepherd kneels his horse down because he’s drunk and this is the easiest way to get on the horse’s back. The horse is wise, connected with its owner, knows where to take the master home.
Bringing in the hay. Two horses are grazing in front of a carriage. Two men are stacking hay on it. The hay reaches a few meters high. The men haven’t finished yet. They must be trusting those horses. One pitchfork load of hay after another. Later on the loaded carriage is carefully advancing on the road. Cars are passing by.
On the cobblestone, the street artist is squatting in front of his stool. He could’ve decided to sit on it, but he chose to put some of his merchandise on it instead. Greek-orthodox religious icons are on sale. There must be a lot of religious buyers. A few hand carved spoons, with the same patterns on them. People must be interested in hand carved spoons too. Townscapes on a few oil painted canvases on the side.
Old guy wearing dirty clothes carrying a sleeping bag on his shoulder walking on a crowded touristy street taking a peek into elegant shoe shops...taking a turn on a street corner and checking out the contents of a few waste bins...walking onwards to a smaller park, sitting on a bench, watching people play tennis...feeding the pigeons with a few morcels of bread...going back on the crowded alley and watching the street musicians...checking out a few more bins...buying a beer at a local shop...going in to Mc Donalds to the toilet...asking for a cigarette from someone passing by...going to a deserted park...taking out the sleeping bag...popping, cheering, fireworks...a happy new year begins.
