COHESIVE SERIES—-City Life
Life Is A Journey—Human Nature
Urban Landscape
Leaning Flatiron~intended composition
Angle~Italicized（like the setting in Spider Man）
adorable fastener
Brooklyn Bridge
Park Lake
Extra landscape at night~harmonious with human nature: make my topic stronger.
Skyscrapers at dark night~ with shiny lights: extremely photoshop.
Wall Color
Daytime Light
Warm Color
Colorful Bricks
basketball stands
red door
Wild Life
4 moments
Moving body
Narrative Animation
1~ Pigeon Mask
2~
3~
4~ fly away
100 Words personal essay-1ppou3g
Finally, I decided to do the urban landscape. I am always interested in researching landscape, last time I did a project focusing on still life landscape with a macro lens. For this project, I went to the city and chose some spots to shoot. For instance, East Village and Washington Park. I divided my pictures into several specific series. To make them look like poems, and sound like the musical.
Some people may argue that urban constructions are not belonging to “landscape”, I just strongly disagree with that opinion. Life is colorful and it has a diverse definition. Those constructions are made by human beings, no matter they are landmarks or not. In that case, they have meanings inside them. Every time when I see urban landscapes, like the scrapers; It seems like I can read their historical background information through the design.
One more thing, while I was using the lens to record urban landscape, I found some other funny stories I can tell as well, such as cute animals and natural narratives. In all, I believe the city has its life inside it, waiting for us to discover.
~Hidden Soul~
_Poem in the comments_
To Autumn
by John Keats J.
1
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun,
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.
2
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair sort-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
Dows’d with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers.
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
3
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a waiful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles form a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
🙋！！I like all— the pics taken by you!!
Thx! I appreciate it.