PHOTOS: Minding Xamayca

Treasure Beach Forum: TB Runnin's: PHOTOS: Minding Xamayca
Top of pagePrevious messageNext messageBottom of page Link to this message  By Zed on Monday, March 21, 2011 - 12:12 pm: Edit Post

Mama don't take my Kodachrome away and leave your boy so far from home
Kodachrome, they give us those nice bright colours
They give us the greens of summers
Make you think the worl's a sunny day, oh yeah...
So mamma don't take my Kodachome away.

--Simon and Garfunkel

When the last roll of Kodachrome slide film was processed last December, nostalgically I went into storage to see what became of those images, colours and the stories that I could still extract from past experiences.
It was a-way of looking back at how one's heart rises and sets in Xamayca and some poetry, which at the time dignified the occasions. I see in these photographs the paintbrush which kodachrome allowed, and the images chosen for an existence in a vivid dreamscape.
In the diaspora personalities of those who have wandered from their birthplaces, we will search for touchstones of our belonging... of what constitutes HOME, a state of mind, of easing tensions and harmonic conversions.


Minding Xayamaca I is a the first of a series of three folios to be presented sequentially to the Photo Gallery for consideration.
Homage to kodachome!

VIDEO:
The Last Roll of Kodachrome:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mPvF1MOU2kE


Top of pagePrevious messageNext messageBottom of page Link to this message  By jeannieb on Tuesday, March 22, 2011 - 07:44 am: Edit Post

I really enjoyed your pictures. I love the nostalgic feel the old film gives. I love pictures with a sepia tint.
Thanks for sharing!


Top of pagePrevious messageNext messageBottom of page Link to this message  By Zed on Wednesday, March 23, 2011 - 12:35 pm: Edit Post

The final two Folios of these past Island journeying memories have been posted to the Photo Gallery.

They can be viewed as:
• ZED Minding Xamayca 2

• ZED Minding Xamayca 3

Here is another poem which was twine-twisted into the images presented, but did not quite make the cut for this last-ing re-newal of homeward bound:

Couvade

I'm a sleeper of a tired tribe
staring with a fish's eye
seeing the circle we draw
while pursued by quick eyes of night

here where there are always the caves
the need to avoid the net of stars,
the urge to capture the awakening
touch of feather or scale

threading through the embracing rainbow.

Now eyes hunt the dream of history
cross the bridge of tribes
trace on walls of memory
the war-paints final riddle

coughed by a lizzard-
Where is the Nothing of which the sages

spoke?


--Victor D. Questel