Tag Archives: #street photography

267 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/17

267 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/17 of-by patrick wey  https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
When you’re a street photographer you have to take some chances. Not everyone wants their photograph taken and you don’t always know that until the shutter has clicked. I have been in a few situations where i was lucky to get out unbeaten. That’s the nature of the career. Today is totally different with so many snapping images from their phones or their larger cameras which makes it easier on the one hand and less unique on the other. This man was not happy about my decision to capture him for some of his own reasons. He’d be gone by now. His story is not known. A broken wrist, an injured arm. Someone knows about him somewhere. We fade into the dust, no matter who we are. Some believe in various shades of afterworlds but those are all theories no matter how much evidence you want to state as proof. Me, it doesn’t really matter what i believe about all that. There is only one thing i could say that might be absolutely certain and that is that it is all ultimately a mystery and there ain’t anything for certain. But as far as certainty goes there are numerous conclusions necessary to get us by for our daily bread. I’m certain i took this picture, i remember that moment and the eerie feeling i got with this look that pierced my soul. Somehow this moment is encoded, somehow but no doubt it is shifting, rearranging the moment, moving into the dust of time also. Life is a paradox, or is it?
Image circa 1977

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Mexico | DSC_0049.tif
Patrick Wey

263 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/13

263 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/13 of-by patrick wey https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Impression of Old Montreal – the flavour of colour set against the heavens of a sunny afternoon down thru the air of St Pauls Street Old Montreal back twenty years ago in the infancy of the digital era. Small puddles the size of a saucer lent their reflections towards the sensor of my new compact digital panasonic lumix and wham, light struck, twirled, reshaped, bent and swam ashore into this impression.
Image circa turn of the millennium….

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
OldMontreal
Patrick Wey

255 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/05

255 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/05 of-by patrick wey https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
‘It was a calm night, the snow had sheltered the silence under its wing. The hydro had flashed out. He lied there in the darkness, stretched out upon the couch. The soft dark moments etched shadows across the air. The night slipped out of itself into the imagination of sight. Light danced upon the walls as the erie silence hummed in the great distance.

He thought about how obscure and fainted the memories erased themselves unaware leaving fragments dancing across the room free and true. Words forcing sounds upon the form almost in control.

Everything comes to an end he realized as the separation of the past melted into his eyes. His touch was meant for another realm as he handed himself a sigh and took a long breath that began hundreds of years before and ended stretching into a cloud of premonitions. “What will become of this useless beauty that my eyes behold, if for a million nights this sadness can’t escape the wonder of mystery deep within my bones”. His voice without sound and his dreams but a breeze against the wind, he stated once again, “love is love, and that is all it is made of”.

The darkness faded into the night, silence swam still………’

The man in the cafe walked here, thought this, then left.

Image circa the 80’s, literature May 2017

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
People I’ve Known | DSC_0194.jpg
Patrick Wey

229 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/10

229 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/10 of-by patrick wey https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
The shimmering factories are fading, mothers and fathers dead or dying, cancers injected into their skin into their bones into their brains. The years of building trinkets and guns the days of sweat and fun, those days are goin and done. The ghost of mechanics still rings in the suburbs of industrial dust with digitized robots of heartless endeavours for post modern toys of comfort and joy. The world is changing, the new breath of dream of america is here and the dying of tradition is rusting away in the alleyways. We are moving on so it seems tho we act like we’re still catching our breath at the edge of the cave. The new interconnected silicon and cell will fulfil the ideals of the few and the new wars to survive are already being fought close by if you open up your eyes far enough from the dope of entertainment and nourishment of unnaturally created compounds to soothe our plastic souls. The days ahead are bleak for many, the work is never done, jesus with the good guys on one side and the devil from the dark on the other. Call it what you will; they say, ‘confusion is the best division’, but down here everything is silent and smooth and there ain’t nothing to fear cept your imagination running………..
image circa 80’s writing oct 2018

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Manipulations (Film) | 00096.tif
Patrick Wey

228 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/09

228 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/09 of-by patrick wey https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
we walked thru city streets down, together, past melting buildings and sleet across our face but we never stopped, always kept one foot in front of the other. we dreamt this, we kept our promise, we held on, we loved, we slept in soft surreal beds, crept along thru neon clubs and scenes dim and rough. we managed to make it thru to the other side with few scars and we left the dreams calm and lost them along the ditch for others. i remember the new york city streets and the flavour of the cold. i left the night along the canal like anyone else weary of the damp illusion of views that are impossible to make exist, had to be destroyed, set aside. she said, “wish we could stay here forever” and i wanted it too, but things change and there ain’t nothin one can do. the many years have passed, slid across my brain but still the memory lights up my heart when i fall back there.
image circa 80’s writing oct 2018

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Manipulations (Film) | 00090a.tif
Patrick Wey

227 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/08

227 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/08 of-by patrick weyhttps://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day

….a ruffled-up-crow dreams out a prayer for our thanksgiving….

Thanks for the food and the door way to the other side
thanks for the rock and roll and the cafes and social media
thanks for the summer evenings and the crucifictions
thanks for spelling errors and correction apps and toilet paper
thanks for the troubled minds and the addicted
thanks for my freedom to say what i want
for the turkeys real and symbolic and the privileged airplane rides
thanks for the love hidden and over done
thanks for your sweet thoughts right in the nitch of time
and for all the tattoos and sacred symbols
thanks for all the people that try so hard
and the flowers in bloom and the animals
Thanks for everything for this moment for this high
thanks for you, them and the earth and sky
thanks for the time wasted on facebook
and friends that have reappeared and disappeared
thanks for thanks and life and death
and thanks for everything i regret
for all the things i’ve missed for all the things i’ve had
thanks again and again for this day this night
for everything wrong and everything right
for all the smiles and all the tears
for the bravery and all the fears
thanks for today and tomorrow and our concept of time
thanks thanks thanks and thanks over and over again thanks

thanks for second thoughts and peculiar conclusions
thanks for trumped-up-like people, the jesus saved ones and the entertainment
for those whom see what’s right and for those lost in a dream
for the future for the critics for the politicians and the saints
thanks for this life, this time to be, this circus and christmas celebrations
thanks for all the holidays and the hard days at work
for the children the women the men the beliefs and illusions
thanks for the brave the stupid and the discreet
for karma the mystery the universe the unknown
thanks for the chance to feel at a glance
the real the unreal the surreal and beyond
and thanks for thanksgiving happy or not, and to be thankful
for our consciousness and for all we’ve got……..
and oh yea, thank god for crows
image circa late 70’s writing oct 2018

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Manipulations (Film) | 00266.tif
Patrick Wey

225 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/06

225 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/06 of-by patrick wey https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
A pretty face on a porcelain brain, autumn rain slippin down the street, the whole race on the track of city air surrounding. He walked by never noticed a thing, she looked down. The world was rough, damp, cold and the mood was swinging low. The city takes you places you knew you’d never go but there you were right in the midst of it. The turbulence was everywhere the purpose was lost, meaning fell like a tomb. I walked into the scene, fell in love, then left for the coast.
photo circa 80’s writing oct. 2018

Irena Berlinska in the background i noticed….

 

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
People I’ve Known | DSC_0358.tif
Patrick Wey

222 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/03

222 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/03 of-by patrick wey https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
i don’t wanna beg, i did’t plan it this way, i don’t like being here any more than you would. i see your fancy stuff hangin off your back, your future rapped up in a velvet cloth, your whole universe summed up and placed rather straight on down the line. i’m no idiot, just a chick with some hard turns, a woman in this world displayed like an antique in a second hand store. the day passes slow here, some days are real tough, some days fall off the edge, some are full of pity and sadness. i didn’t plan it this way but i’m caught, no way to get out of this mess. I’ve got kids dead half dead and some never lived at all. It’s not easy watchin you with your things. It’s not right, you know it and i know it. i got no dreams left, nothin left here but death watchin. this has not been a good day and i can’t find it in my heart to apologize, leave what you will, look the other way.
photo circa 70’s writing yesterday

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Mexico | DSC_0232.tif
Patrick Wey

221 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/02

221 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/02 of-by patrick wey https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
walking around town with my head in the clouds, lookin to see what i can see, lookin to be what ever i be. no worries, in a dream, livin free. i got no place to go, nobody to be, i got nothin but my feelin free…..this is the way i remember some of my youth but sometimes things change and sharp realities slide in. you can see them if you look quick to the left, catch a glimpse as they float by but if you’re really swift and in tune to the day you can brush it all aside and get right back to that good old young to be, forever free……..it’s a dream, lasts awhile then fades then reappears then again….
image circa 80’s, writing yesterday

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
MotherGaiaWaterColors | P1040004-2.tif
Patrick Wey

216 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/27

216 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/27 of-by patrick wey https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
There’s probably a story or two hidden in the backyards of a few minds from the night light hit the negatives of my nikon way back when, but not from me. I don’t recall who she is or where i was. There’s a good chance it’s toronto and a semi famous band and that Coral Andrews would know. At any rate, she’s pretty and she plays base and i was there and i wish i was again.
Why do i do this, what’s the point, makes me question my sanity….old photographs lost in the archives of a one-time photographer with some strange commitment to a few more posts or so. The time is coming to an end, i feel it in my blood, i’m gettin to the ledge, the end of the line, an era dead. These photos will find there way here and there i suppose but for someone who cares little about the past they mean less and less. The age of image gluttony, sound bit specs in every dash of wind is here while the past is drowning in a future dangerously uncertain.
My thoughts move about the page for nothing better to do. I sit in a small cafe in a small town with small dreams waiting for the winds to shift.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
RockBluesFolk/Celebrities | DSC_0118.tif
Patrick Wey

206 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/17

206 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/17 of-by patrick wey https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
One of my cars way back when….62 rambler, front seats folded back into a bed…
I have put up an image/content for 206 days now, facebook is messin with us…they are all on my blog archived for as long as time rolls on down this social media path.
circa photo early 70’s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
People I’ve Known | Patrick’s 62 Rambler
Patrick Wey

205 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/16

205 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/16 of-by patrick wey https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
dreaming from the shore of a sea
love falling off leaves of trees
all the worlds worries floating by
under this clear blue sky….
when troubles reform to projects of interest to investigate and friends in view become tender and family exposes warm concerns and the world turns into something one can touch, it’s then you will know you have been walking hard along the trail.
Some say there is magic in the air
when things go light and breath is easy and true
that god is beside you always and the devil is just a concept in you
but it seems no doubt that when the process of thought stops in the mind
only magic and mystery remain without a trace of a word in time….
This is possible and goes to prove that he/she without a home is free in a universe that mystery and magic are merely words as a costume for a clown.
My costume is my images and my words, a gift for the few as i drag them across the floor.
Circa Thailand Chiang Mai canal around the old city…2017

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
PuddleArt Thailand ChiangMai | P1010370a.jpg
Patrick Wey

204 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/15

204 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/15 of-by patrick wey https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
You got your troubles and i got mine
some can’t hear, most are blind
some can speak, most won’t talk
makes you want to get off the train
go for a walk

street photography…obviously
symbolism…probably
circa dundas st. toronto, china town 80’s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Miscellany | DSC_0308-2.jpg
Patrick Wey

203 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/14

203 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/14 of-by patrick wey https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Sunday afternoon with rain lying across fields
and roads wet of autumn
while time had moved in slow
with nothing left to show
the sermon short and swift
and the end just ahead
where the mind shall lift
across the divine to home
Makes you wonder just what was on their minds as they traveled home from their Sunday afternoon church gathering. Strong christian beliefs sheltering their hearts from the cold and damp world surrounding. Perhaps they have it right denying the spark of electrical energy into their homes and the combustion engine into their ways. Perhaps the curse of modern science really has gone against the natural way. Perhaps their visions lie aside the natives earth and man has gone too wrong too far. Perhaps man has not gone far enough. Perhaps you need not know to live right.
circa mennonite country just north west of waterloo on. can. 1990’s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Miscellany | DSC_0122-2.jpg
Patrick Wey

202 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/13

202 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/13 of-by patrick wey https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
….in that cool breeze of the night when things were different and you were on the wall wavering from one side towards another knowing this then knowing that but unable to squeeze a self out. The train flew by with a bunch of heavens in search of more, headless sculptures walked to and fro, drowning men kept screaming unclear, new mediums filled the air waves,dying frogs leap against the glass to death and you were simple, knitting scarfs for the crippled and playing chess with a screen. What ever happened to the dreams of poets kissing love, the painters throwing roads of colour against a canvas, songs waiting patiently for a throat or two.
The day breaks open like a poem falling off a page, the political mice snarl inside their holes, the whole damn mess gets scraped off sides of streets with news of saints flying thru heading for the ditch. The peanut factory increasing sales, doing well in the capital and bees busy digitizing facts as fast as they can manufacture-um. The critics are all over the social medium with heads dispersed into fragments for the benefit of a few.
Life is coming to an end the way we see it, we have out-thought ourselves, we have held out too long, we are being replaced by crystal, copper and gold. The new ‘on or off’ technology will rule the wise men and the fool. There is no necessity to fear, keep your ears glued to the visions of glamour and your gods of deceit, the end will not kill you, you will not disappear, turn the page, scribble out the text, delete the posts, call your faceless friends and love your self into the end………..
photo circa 90’s kitchener city wall, self stand-in

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Self-ies – Portraits | DSC_0153.jpg
Patrick Wey

171 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/13

171 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/13 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
‘Even the Eternal Source is a Reflection’. With that statement i mean that there is no absolute anything, thought made it all up because of our fear of being simply mortal naked apes that think. All the gods, all the absolute laws, all the determinations to use reason to convince the brain that we are superior beings, aliens, creations in the likeness of gods, all definitive conclusions must be on trial endlessly; logic is no more than a tool to create technologies to explore the universe. There is no higher purpose. The eternal source is merely a shade of an infinite refection endlessly moving changing shifting. There is no great mystery that can be known. This denial is the source of all misery in the mind of man.
We have been conditioned with a need to believe in some formula from christ to buddha, to scientific law, politics, to happiness, enlightenment, afterlives to endless comforts and securities to soothe the fear of being in the natural state of simple unknowing clear observations. This is too scary and meaningless for the ego. Man has not changed at all since the cave man in his discomfort with his neighbour and his self, only the weapons have evolved. Think about it, if you can accept the fear to be without any direction home, no ritual to save you, no ceremony to ultimately calm you, no ideal to hang onto forever. There is no certainty in the mind of man, nothing is and never was. We have been fooled by the fears of the saviours, the saints, the holy men, the logicians. The body is all that is immortal, the mind is the illusion that fades and dies.
I am a man walking thru all history with a duffel bag strung over my shoulder hanging off my back and in my mental strength with my one hand holding a knife i slit the bag releasing the tons of beliefs, ideals, concepts, dogma, certainties, absolutes, sciences, securities, identities, words, abstracts, gods and demons and when the mind freaks out i grab the hole in the bag and breathe deep, slowly, grab my composure, resting into the new lesser emptier identity and when i’m strong and brave again i slit the bag once more and do it all over……….keep walking towards the illusion of the eternal source. Freedom from the known is the pathless trail to be. There is no method, like a coyote in the desert one just lives naturally. This may be impossible, but no more impossible than living with the illusions of ones absurd absolute beliefs and certainly much more honourable to the process of creation…………i suppose.
I don’t care what anyone thinks, i have more faith in the eyes of a crow than i do of any man. They are to the point, direct, real and without the illusions of the self fulfilling imagination of man. I move on from there.
circa 2017 Chiang Mai Thailand

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
PuddleArt Thailand ChiangMai | P1010487.jpg
Patrick Wey

166 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/08

166 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/08 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day

Portrait of a man on the street looking straight to me thru his lizard eyes.
By now he’ll be back with his maker and isn’t it strange how we conjure feelings, emotions, liquid conclusions about things that are now dead and invisible. He was well with his gesture from my camera, a simple love in his smile. Someone with a few stories easily melted into his mind, you can tell by your imagination of his heart, by the well worn wrinkles in his leathered face.
circa 70’s somewhere, some city in america.
PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Canada | DSC_0139.jpg
Patrick Wey

163 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/05

163 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/05 of-byhttps://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Suspenders and straw hats walking thru the concrete paradise
dreams of salvation lying in the furrows of their fields
baseball fun waiting in the sunday afternoon school house lot
generations of mennonite men and boys and dreams real and not….…

See More

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Canada | DSC_0162.jpg
Patrick Wey

161 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/03

161 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/03 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Death and life walk hand in hand down the road to where?
Past the farms of life for death on top of indian blood
Down the roads where ancestors lived and died
Some in vain some for good and where some still painfully hide
The Heidelberg Hotel serves limburger cheese and mennonite summer sausage on rye bread. I never got to know my dad much as he left my mother with eight children when i was 5 or so. When i was a little older and could do as i pleased i visited him more frequently. A few years before he died i picked him up one day and took him to the Heidelberg and ordered two of the infamous sandwiches. He couldn’t believe there was still a place on this fine earth that served such an ancestral feast…..that and a glass of draft beer. One of the few memories i have left swimming around in this brain some believe is mine. This land held memories long dead passed on beyond the remains weighed down by engraved stone into living eyes here, but this land holds remains of remains of remains as far back as the stars and beyond. We live a short time in the scale of our vast imaginations and time stretches far beyond all that i presume. The i i presume as me has come and will go with a whimper in this mysterious scheme of things.
My ancestors arrived in the neighbourhood in the 1840’s so history says and i came along in the late 40’s of the nineteen hundreds but the previous peoples of this land some claim go back 50,000 years or more. Numbers. None of this matters much to me. There was blood shed, deceit and love as far back as humans walked upon this incredibly beautiful planet. I’ve done my share to walk my walk as best as i can thru contradiction and fiction, to be as i am to be as i am not. These words will crumple as the rye stone returns to whence it came, even the limburger is doomed to become something inconceivable.
In honour of tombstones of limburger cheese and summer sausage and rye bread and beer.
Circa late 80’s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Canada | DSC_0084.jpg
Patrick Wey

155 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/28

155 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/28 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
This was a place i would go to when times end, the place where most people walk endlessly around, where the square is the world, where the buildings are made of cutout cardboard and the cafe feels on edge. In the afternoon the gray people walk their gray walk in a slow hurry to the other side; i felt that place within, that sacred place where saints pray and martyrs hide their sins. With every footstep a melody caressed the air in gratitude for the day, the gray day in all its grayness, a seemingly reasonable way, a gray way with all its subdued glory. The cafe expressed itself with a fine aroma. Espresso served in a grey cup. I was there participated like a prince. Herbs hanging on the wall.
In Poland waiting. She says she is near but things feel so distant. Time is slowing down almost still at moments. Her walk slid around a corner appeared disappeared came close then fell apart again. I loved her in the middle of the gray. Her dreams slithered in beside mine and stayed there awhile full of colour before an ocean caught between us ended things.
The square is empty without her, this time is absent now. Her polish is elsewhere. The gray haze of the day continues as if nothing has happened and nothing ever does here in the square gray.
circa 90’s…..a search for love is vain, it finds you or it doesn’t, it didn’t….Wroclaw Poland Square

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Europe | DSC_0015-4.tif
Patrick Wey

154 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/27

154 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/27 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Man on the streets of Dublin with two different eyes, one looking backwards and one attempting to weave into a future. Just like you and i travelling thru space with one foot on the ground and the other in our dreams. We spend our full live’s orchestrating realities out of thin and thick wind. We think we see what we see even when the weather has shifted. Some catch on quick, some never hear a sound and live in the noice of their minds till there is little or no mind left. There is always enough reason lying around to prove even the most absurd conclusions. People believe what they want to believe, what they are forced to believe, what makes the most sense under the conditions that roof their shelters. We mostly feel the same, we just walk down different roads, roads of love, manufactured and pure, simple and sweet, complicated, discreet.
We exchanged a few pleasant words and looked right into each others eyes. He was weathered and torn, there was no doubt about that, but he didn’t care and neither did i. There was almost a pint of guinness in that nose i thought, and he wore it well as we passed by.
Dublin Ireland in the early 90’s, but it’s been that way forever.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Europe | DSC_0045.jpg
Patrick Wey

143 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/16

143 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/16 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
“You think i don’t know cause the way i’m dressed, the desperate walls i attempt. Well that’s not the way it is. Most of you could never walk the streets i walk but we are not that different. You would do what you have to if you had to but you don’t and that’s the difference. I look for a few cents, i scrounge around for food. Yes, i have relatives that don’t know me, don’t want to know. i have dreams and as ridiculous as they might be, they are not much different than yours. Here, take this portrait and show it around the world, it doesn’t matter a damn to me.”
I saw this shot, felt it, stole it quick, no thought but the camera, the angle, the reflection, the exposure, click………click click……..a nod of gratitude with a blink of the eye in a deep reverence and i moved into new territory. Sometimes it is like that, the ambiance dictates the move, the road pulls and i go.
Circa 80’s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Miscellany | DSC_0315.tif
Patrick Wey