By Jaci Lerner
This is the fifth and final article in our 2014 Week of Photo Journals: Changing Perspectives. We hope you have enjoyed the beautiful photography and travel accounts from UC San Diego students. Until next year!
Dancing in front of the Gottfried Helnwein Retrospective Exhibition at the Albertina Museum in Vienna.
This photo was taken in Lenucijeva potkova, a horse-shoe of parks and monuments located in the middle of Donji grad, a district in the very center of Zagreb. As far as I’m concerned, this woman was the heart of Zagreb as much as she was in it.
This was captured on the Simonsonweg, a pathway cutting from Pariser Platz to the Reichstag, just in front of a parting in the trees that opens onto the Memorial to the Sinti and Roma of Europe Murdered under the National Socialist Regime.
The Prague orloj, or Prague astronomical clock, in Old Town Square.
I have a dear friend with that Emerson quote tattooed across her forearm, and thanks to her, the words have been revolving in my head for a few years now. I’m not sure that this man got the memo. I caught this at the Dolac open-air farmer’s market with a tourist’s map of Zagreb in my hand, which is what obscures the left third of the photo.
At some point, I found myself living in an ex-convent with a Shi Tzu, a priest, and his mother. This is their neighbor, beautiful Adalgisa, walking through her “paradiso” with an armful of cauliflower. Of all the people I’ve ever met on my travels, she was the one with the kindest eyes and biggest heart. I think about her all the time.
Surrounded by sky cranes and skyscrapers, Souq Waqif is a standing market and an intentionally preserved homage to pre-modernized Doha. For me, the most exciting part of the market was the animal souq. It is a sad but fascinating cluster of stacked cages, full of puppies, sugar gliders, falcons, even chicks that are dyed bright colours, like living Peeps. This boy was proudly the bravest of his siblings, who had tried before him to hold the little bird but ran away screaming and giggling at the last second.
If you’re ever in Croatia and only have time to see one thing, let Plitvice be it.
This is the proprietor of the aforementioned birds in Souq Waqif. It took me six months to notice his shirt.
I think about silence all the time. Where and how to find it, how to engage with it, why I love it but am rarely comfortable in it. This moment was so quiet in itself that I have to strain to remember the busy sounds of Wenceslas Square: the street car, the passing conversations, the trumpet player behind me. Savages published a manifesto and album last year called Silence Yourself, and it calls for just that as a way to recompose. I think they’re onto something.
This is Adalgisa, caught in just one of the many moments where her soul shines through.
This was also taken at the animal souq in Doha. She had been so reserved as she surveyed the birds, but as soon as this one was on her sleeve she broke out with the biggest, sweetest grin. I love her little underbite.
As a surprise rain shower fell in Old Town Square and the performers ran for cover, these ladies produced umbrellas out of thin air and hurried to the middle of the square to take turns trading the camera for the orange one.
Of all the interactions I watched people have with the birds, hers was the most surprising. Silently, without warning, she approached the stand, extended a tattooed finger, and swiped them all off of their perch.