A SPARKLE IN HER EYES
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I sat next to this woman in the market..She glanced at me. Acknowledging my presence. Then she turned away
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30 YEARS
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30 years in the market of Tawangmangu
I look at his calloused hands From 30 years of puncturing holes through the thick leather with a steel needle …. Sewing by hand. |
RESIGNATION
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Resignation is the word that came to mind when I photographed this woman-carrier at the market. She proudly poised for the camera. I always feel privileged to have permission to enter a person’s personal space. |
CONNECTION
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Father and daughter connection.
The traditional market of Tawangmangu is a second home to the buyers, to the sellers and to myself. This market is my studio of Humanity. It keeps me connected to reality and inspires me to be creative. |
SEE NO EVIL, HEAR NO EVIL, SAY NO EVIL.
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These women-carrier, who displace very heavy loads of produce on their backs, were chatting away. I spent about 5 minutes close to them taking photos with a 50mm lens. They ignored my presence.
At one point, I asked them to pose for me. They immediately proceeded to hide their faces while politely and shyly declining my request. I took one last image before retiring and leaving them alone. In the viewfinder, I saw their gestures that reminded me of the famous Japanese illustration. |
EYE CONTACT & CHICKEN SOUP.
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The eyes are the window of the soul, so they say.
In this woman's eyes, I can see resilience, acceptance, greeting, fatigue, hope, warmth. Everyday this woman arrives at 4:00 a.m. at the market to sell her soto ayam ( chicken soup). Everyday, in spite of the Corona Virus she must be at the market and make a living. She wears a mask like most of the sellers at the market. Her eyes are the only contact But, I know that the masks hides her kind-morning smile. |
PEELING THE SKIN OFF COCONUT HUSKS
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While making my photographic rounds in the market, I came across this woman who seemed deep in her thoughts I felt loneliness and sadness. I name this « Market of Humanity» A market where the sellers and kiosks owners spend most of their lives. |