“…These people have something that the young generation does not have. Their spirit I have seen in their eyes, in their hands, and on their faces. The grand and endless expressions on their faces are so natural, so real, sometime I wish my photography could have smell and sound. At least it is something that will remain for future generations. That is why I photograph man. Photography is a big art, and no one, no regimes, no party can stop the creation of it.” -Jacko Vassiliev, Lover of Humanity, Photographer, speaking about working in his homeland, Bularia.
Jacko Vassilev, 1988
For more information about Jacko Vassilev’s work, please visit his official website at jackovassilevphotography.com
u N t i t L e d
you wrote poems with paint brushes
your hand moved and made circles
that made colours
that made me wrap my ears in wooly scarves
and look for you
and when i arrived everything was grey
the brushes were left for silence
and the silence was left for words
and the words said nothing
but i listened until i was made of lightening
and the lightening made flashes
and the flashes made colours
and the colours made circles
that made my hand move
and my hand made poems too,
with paint brushes
oLd_cLOth_fOr_thE_tAKiNg
ryokan, a zen master, lived the simplest kind of life in a little hut at the foot of a mountain.
one evening a thief visited the hut only to discover there was nothing in it to steal.
ryokan returned and caught him.
“you may have come a long way to visit me,” he told the thief,
“and you should not return empty handed. please take my clothes as a gift.”
the thief was bewildered.
he took the clothes and disappeared into the night.
ryokan sat naked, watching the moon.
“poor fellow, ” he mused, “i wish i could give him this beautiful moon.”
–photography, in its purest form, is just like this. even though an image may be produced, when compared to the interrelationship between artist and subject, the image is like old cloth compared to a brilliant moon. nico
meSSage_fRoM_tHE_eLDERs_oF_tHE_hOPI_nATIOn
you have been telling the people that this is the eleventh hour.
now you must go back and tell the people that this is the hour.
here are the things that must be considered:
where are you living?
what are you doing?
what are your relationships?
are you in right relation?
where is your water?
know your garden.
it is time to speak your truth.
create your community.
be good to each other.
and do not look outside yourself for the leader.
this is the time.
there is a river flowing now very fast.
it is so great and swift that there are those who will be afraid.
they will try to hold on to the shore.
they will feel like they are being torn apart, and they will suffer greatly.
know the river has its destination.
the elders say we must let go of the shore,
push off toward the middle of the river, keep our eyes open, and our heads above the water.
see who is there with you and celebrate!
at this time in history, we are to take nothing personally, least of all ourselves!
for the moment we do, our spiritual growth and journey comes to a halt.
the time of the lonely wolf is over. gather yourselves!
banish the word struggle from your attitude and vocabulary.
all that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.
we are the ones we have been waiting for.
“sAhWirA”
“sahwira” is word that translates to “closest friend” or “friend for life”. it derives from shona, the name collectively given to several groups of people in zimbabwe and southern mozambique, originally know as the karanga, and their language. it was at the insistence then of a faithful and persistent friend, braden coolidge, that we were invited to harare, zimbabwe, to witness the depth and true meaning of the word, “sahwira”.
braden had been working in zimbabwe, mainly in the arts, for 16 years and despite his chiseled californian appearance, had been adopted by the shona as one of their own.
in 2006, with gratitude and a desire to know more, braden ventured out, looking beyond his closely knit group of friends, to the outlying communities. at first, his thought was to give something back, a duffel bag filled with clothes, but when he was led to the gates of the maulana school, what he found was “a little more than he had bargained for”: a struggling “school” for orphans–1600 students, managed by a dedicated couple, the maulana’s, and a handful, maybe 1o, teachers. and, though there was no shortage of commitment and desire on the part of the founders, and thousands of children, there were no facilities which might otherwise identify the area as a school: no buildings, no desks, no chairs, relatively few books, and scant supplies.
overwhelmed but resolute, braden went on to set up the sahwira fund and has since helped to transform a vision into tangible hope for those thousands of children, orphaned by the aids epidemic. in fact, during our recent visit, what we found was very much a school, with roofs, desk, chairs, a well, a small organic farm, facilities for sanitation, playgrounds, and even a little stage built by the people from the magnificent rocks which surround the area. make no mistake, however, the development is by no means sufficient for the demands placed on it and so braden continues his work. the only difference is that today, braden is not known as braden, but as simply as “sahwira”, the friend for life.
the school itself is called “the maulana school”, and it is our hope that the images presented here will heighten awareness as well as encourage continued support for the blossoming sahwira project. for more information, please visit sahwira.org. remember also, that we can all be sahwira’s if we choose to be.
and the thousands of children sang…
“he-llo sah-wee-ra, wel-come to the maulana school!”
a $250 donation directly to the sahwira fund (a tax-exempt 501(c)(3) public charity, incorporated in the state of California, which means that donations are 100% tax-deductable), will entitle the donor to a matted and framed image of their choice from fotosophe’s zimbabwe portfolio.
sEE_inSiDe
on january 1, 2010, a vision which appeared to me a decade before is realized.
think on these things:
there is no difference between the suffering of others and one’s own suffering.
there is only one world, therefore no second, or third world.
poverty is not necessarily a material state, but also a state of mind. mind creates world: the world is beautiful. the world is ugly. i am indifferent to the world. the world is everything. we reflect what is within.
light itself is invisible; what we see is light reflected. as light is invisible, so is heart energy. heart energy is reflected in action and response. there is a wisdom in light that remains unrealized and i am made whole in its pursuit.
with gratitude to those without whom this work would not be possible: master photographer jacko vassilev, lejla mavris, michael mavris, anastasia mavris, nikos antonakopoulos, eknath easwaran, peter @ gamma black & white, SF.
31.12.2009, nico michael, fotosophe.com
mi_hermano_mexica (meshíka)
during the long night, i close my eyes to be near my brother, huddled with ghosts in a circle.
darkness and a devil wind stab at us with murderous indifference.
why was i not here to eternalize with you under that hateful sun?
now, alone, i shall fade a thousand times.
i search for you, brother, in deserts of stone and rivers of black death.
i search for you in the mountains of cold mist and in the graveyards, swollen with you, forgotten.
my history eyes fall shadowy but they shall soon brighten, for my journey shall not end until my hand is tangled in yours, rough and cracked like earth.
brother, i hear you now like songs from those distant spinach fields where we laughed and laughed, our radio hanging from your belt.
do you remember how long the days were, and how we carried each hour, each minute on our backs?
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