Stop, listen and look
[TIL #14] Taking life lessons from a road sign
On a train trip to the North of Portugal, i was messing about trying to start a project to explore what the world would look like when seen from a moving train. As i was looking at the moving landscape, i spotted a road sign. A narrow dirt road came out of a village to meet the tracks. At the crossing, the only signalisation was a wonky, dusty road sign that read: stop, listen and look.
Weeks later, walking in the Marvila neighbourhood of Lisboa, i left the main road to follow a footpath and soon came across a railway. Standing straight and bright, a sign warned: in the absence of indication in the (sound) signals, stop, listen and look.
Some time before, i had seen the same words — pare escute olhe — serving as the title for an exhibition of drawings in the Cultural Center of Cascais. After seeing the photo exhibition that had brought me there, i took some time to see the drawings. The artist, if i remember correctly, had often heard these words uttered by one of his professors.
Stop
Listen
Look
Pay attention to the world around you. Pay attention to the moment. That is the simple, gentle way into better photographs — and a better life, too. How often do i need to be reminded?
I’ve seen an administrative cautionary notice double as a philosophical reminder. And here i am, taking life lessons from a road sign.
The open book of the moment
At home, i use a couple of small easels to keep photobooks open for a few days or occasionally a few weeks. It is a way to engage into a longer dialogue with some of the images. And at the moment, one of the open books is …
A book of Finnish photographer Penti Sammallahti (born 1950). The title translates as ‘we two’ and here’s an extract from the publisher’s website: « The idea of the duo, the couple, of all kinds of accomplices appears recurrently in the photographer's work. Whether it is lovers, friends, children, passers-by, travellers, neighbours but also a man and his dog, two birds ... these images tell of attachment, tenderness, the universality of the emotional bond, “being-in-the-world” together. »
I remember walking into an exhibition with absolutely no clue as to what i was about to discover. I was on holiday, outside the sun was scorching, i passed by the entrance of the convent that hosted the show, the entrance was free… it was inevitable: i just went in. And I was just blown away by — the magic, the precision, the subtlety.
Thank you for reading the Tales.
This book seems so awesome!! Thanks for the discovery!