Antony Gormley

Canon 5d

http://photo.net/classic-cameras-forum/00EMyc

http://www.thefedoralounge.com/showthread.php?t=35273

http://www.wirtzgallery.com/exhibitions/2000/exhibitions_2000_09/rexroth/exhibitions_nr_2000_09_images.html

http://www.network-error.com/photo/camera/camera-en.htm#diana

Icarex

Icarex

Voigtländer

Diana Love for Colour!

Lomography Web

"Silly girl, listen!" But she doesn't listen While the village roofs glisten, Bright in the sun. "Silly girl, what do you do there, As if there were someone to view there, A face to gaze on and greet there, A live form warmly to meet there, When there is no one, none, do you hear?" But she doesn't hear. Like a dead stone She stands there alone, Staring ahead of her, peering around For something that has to be found Till, suddenly spying it, She touches it, clutches it, Laughing and crying. Is it you, my Johnny, my true love, my dear? I knew you would never forget me, Even in death! Come with me, let me Show you the way now! Hold your breath, though, And tiptoe lest stepmother hear! What can she hear? They have made him A grave, two years ago laid him Away with the dead. Save me, Mother of God! I'm afraid. But why? Why should I flee you now? What do I dread? Not Johnny! My Johnny won't hurt me. It is my Johnny! I see you now, Your eyes, your white shirt. But it's pale as linen you are, Cold as winter you are! Let my lips take the cold from you, Kiss the chill o f the mould from you. Dearest love, let me die with you, In the deep earth lie with you, For this world is dark and dreary, I am lonely and weary! Alone among the unkind ones Who mock at my vision, My tears their derision, Seeing nothing, the blind ones! Dear God! A cock is crowing, Whitely glimmers the dawn. Johnny! Where are you going? Don't leave me! I am forlorn! So, caressing, talking aloud to her Lover, she stumbles and falls, And her cry of anguish calls A pitying crowd to her. "Cross yourselves! It is, surely, Her Johnny come back from the grave: While he lived, he loved her entirely. May God his soul now save!" Hearing what they are saying, I, too, start praying. "The girl is out of her senses!" Shouts a man with a learned air, "My eye and my lenses Know there's nothing there. Ghosts are a myth Of ale-wife and blacksmith. Clodhoppers! This is treason Against King Reason!" "Yet the girl loves," I reply diffidently, "And the people believe reverently: Faith and love are more discerning Than lenses or learning. You know the dead truths, not the living, The world of things, not the world of loving. Where does any miracle start? Cold eye, look in your heart!" Translated by W.H. Auden by Angela Britlinger

Norwid

Norwid

NARCISSUS 

1
Narcissus, reflecting a satisfied face, 
Cried, "Let everyone note :
As I am supreme, so is Greece." 
Thereupon Echo spoke, 

2 "These nymph haunts, this lake, 
And the depths of saphire slopes 
Are not solely from your Greece,
But - from light, clouds and mists... 

3
"Your shape, note, how shimmering, 
Though you gaze in a crystal pool 
Reflexion comes from the distant sun ,
Only the deep is your constant home ." 

Beauty

BEAUTY 

...God sees all 
"How can
God's eye endure ugliness all round ?"
If you wish to know, with an artist's eye 
Look closely at a ruin, at cobwebs
In sunlight, at matted straw 
In fields, at potter's clay - 
- He gave us all, even His traces,
As He perceives things, have no envy, have no shame! 
Yet there is sun-gilded Pride
Convinced the sun will not shine through her; 
She is the end of sight and contemplation,
She is the screen against God's rays,
So that man, the most ungrateful creature in the world, 
Should feel extinguished brightness and night in his eyes 
- In every art let all arts gleam, save the one
Through which the work is to be done.