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Whiskey

Meet Whiskey, a 2.5 month old cocker spaniel puppling !
Photography for Shruti Seth.

Project 365 – Day 179

Like the other photographs I took of the fire in my building, this one was also taken after the fire. I wanted to give this one it’s own post only because I think it stands out from the others, and so deserves a special notice.

Personally, this photograph is a bit eerie for me, because when I was walking around the building after the fire had been put out, everything was destroyed, in ruins, covered in ash and the one common resonance in all those areas was that the fire had been there. This was the one place in contrast to the others, where there was a sign of other people having been here. This wall was white before the fire struck, and was right next to the room where the fire started. Covered in ash now, a few hands had run over it while racing to put the fire out, revealing traces of what it was like before the fire. Rushed hand marks stand as a memory of the chaos at the time, and each trace of human existence on this surviving wall, is a like a footprint of the people who were here, brave enough to take the fire on and defeat it.

 

  • DSC_7383-1
  • Chalk & Ash

Project 365 – Day 178

“Photography is about finding out what can happen in the frame.
When you put four edges around some facts, you change those facts.”
~Garry Winogrand
  • Collapsed Ceiling Debris
  • Collapsed Ceilings
  • Smashed Window panes
  • Ceiling of the first room to have caught fire
  • Burnt rooftops

Project 365 – Day 177

Unfortunately, there was a fire in my building.

Fortunately, I got to get some photographs before building secured shoo-ed me off the premises.

  • After
  • Before

Project 365 – Day 174

Experimenting with age-ing, new-age digital photographs.

Project 365 – Day 171

Namaste India!

  • Behind the scenes
  • Breaking glass

Project 365 – Day 158

Breaking Glass is always fun!

Project 365 – Day 156

“A large drop of sun lingered on the horizon and then dripped over and was gone, and the sky was brilliant over the spot where it had gone, and a torn cloud, like a bloody rag, hung over the spot of its going. And dusk crept over the sky from the eastern horizon, and darkness crept over the land from the east.”

 
― John Steinbeck, The Grapes of Wrath

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