This is just so sad and so hard to watch. It just makes me sick. Israel had such promise. It was going to be a beacon of everything good and now it is just turning into another intolerant, right wing state. These beautiful, happy, clean cut, children marching through the streets chanting May your village burn. Slaughter the Arabs. As The Accidental Theologian said Is this how the pogroms started?
Syria! update
According to Tom Ricks and, now, The Daily Beast, her name is Amina Abdallah Araf al Omari’s abd she is missing. Picked up by Syrian security forces. According to NPR, she might not have real. I don’t know which truth I would prefer. I hope she is real and as brave as her posts made her seem and I hope she will be OK.
Syria!
While we were frolicking in the desert, people in Syria were dying. I have no idea if they are going to be sucessful in getting rid of their president – dictator, really – Bashar al-Assad. Iran would indicate that they might not, Libya indicates that they might have a chance.
Syria is so far away and seems so alien that it is hard to relate, but there is a blogger who is there and is she is fascinating to read. The blog is A Gay Girl In Damascus. A Gay Girl In Damascus is a real person and the tagline on her blog says An out Syrian lesbian’s thoughts on life, the universe and so on …
For the last couple of months, the so on has been a front seat on the Syrian revolt. It is fascinating and horrifying day to day chronicle from a woman living in Damascus. On some days, I think she is Wael Ghonim, the Egyptian Google manager; on other days, I think she is Ann Frank. Either way, she is smart, sophisticated, on the run, and punching back with her blog when ever she can.
Here she talks about her father standing up to some thugs. I think that was about the time that her mother and sisters left the country and she and her father went underground.
For awhile, her blog has been optimistic, then fatalistic when she has post titled We won’t be forgotten, then defiant when she says And when we mourned our dead, they tried the only language that they know, of force and blood … and more died as martyrs for our freedom. But we will not stop until freedom.
Going out into the streets and not knowing if I am going to be killed or worse, picked up and tortured is inconceivable to me. But this blog makes it real, gives it a very human face.
Please give it a read. Gay Girl in Damascus.
Northwestern Nevada: day three, bailing out
On our last day, we woke with frost free sleeping bags. The wind was there, the flat light was there, but it was clearing down south and the sun was almost coming out from behind the clouds. That is how the post started and then after about two more hours of work, I hit Save Draft and everything but the pictures disappeared. Shit! I can’t believe it.
Here is the summery: We got up and the weather was bad with wind and clouds. We went for a walk and the weather got worse. It even rained a few big drops. With the wind, the flat light, and, maybe, rain; we decided to go home early. I was still worried about the car so I took the highway south past the remains of Lake Winnemucka which had been drained in the early 20th century, stopping to take a picture of its old shoreline. I got home in time to watch the sun set over San Bruno Mountain. It was a fun trip and enjoyable to hang out with Peter. Check out Peter’s take on the trip here.
We bailed out.
Northwestern Nevada: day two, mostly The Blackrock
There are very few places that go by only part of their name and The. The Blackrock is one of them. I love Death Valley, but it is always Death Valley; The Valley is always Yosemite. Like The Canyon is always the Grand. Maybe – for me – The Escalante for the Grand Staircase National Monument, but there are not many The’s. Even the Bonneville Desert is the Bonneville Saltflats or Desert; The Bonneville always refers to the speed trials.
The Blockrock Playa dominates this part of the world. It is huge and very flat. Big enough and flat enough to drive a car faster than the speed of sound.
Looking down on The Blackrock, it is huge. Being on it, it is almost infinite. At the south end is the town of Gerlach and when you drive north on the playa – oh! you not only can drive on the playa, there are marked entries and exits – Gerlach disappears by sinking below the horizon. You can actually see the curvature of the earth! Here are a couple of shots but they are weak sauce; it is like trying to understand a Rolling Stone – actually, The Stones – concert by listening to a CD.
The last shot by the way was taken about twenty years ago on film and was then scanned. I like to think I am more subtle now. Hummm….maybe not.
One of things that Peter and I talked about – as we drove around was how blogging had changed our photography. We both think of ourselves as Good Photographers, even Art Photographers – actually, I am speaking for myself here and only imagining for Peter – but we both are Fine Art Photographers. In that we both think about what we are doing and what we are trying to show and we both have a good eye. But, when blogging, and we were both thinking blogging as we went around the Black Rock – we have to tell a story and that means we have to take pictures that push a narrative. We don’t have the luxury of indulging in 100 pictures of patterns on the desert floor and I think that is a good thing. It is also a thing that will play out later on this trip.
As an aside, in 1988 – man that was long ago! – I had the opportunity to photograph Machu Picchu with nobody around. It was wonderful – wonder filled – and I got some great shots. I also got about 15o shots of stone walls and shadows. I was also chewing coco leaves which may have been a factor, but almost every one of the shots was worth framing as an image. One hundred and fifty shots of stone walls and shadows….On film, five rolls. Jeeeze! End aside.
After the Blackrock, we went back to the Smoke Creek area. It was getting windy and colder and dusty and – most importantly – the light was getting flat. We figured we would drive down to the Smoke Creek creek to see if we could find a place to camp out of the wind. On the way, we found a couple of hummocks that we decided to walk to. That walk turned out to be a bit longer as we walked past the hummocks and down to the temporary wetland by the edge of the playa.
But the light was flat and my imagined picture of the fence running into the water à la Christo didn’t pan out. Photography is capturing light – especially landscape photography – and without good light, even the most stunning scene looks dull.The grandest vista, flat.
After wandering down to the actual Smoke Creek lookinbg for a sheltered campsite, we went back to a campsite just south of last night’s.
It was warmer than last night and the same immense space but the wind was picking up and the clouds were getting that rounded look which is never a good sign. After sunset, we got a feeble show of color but not much.
To be continued and to see another take on the day from Peter, go here.