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Friday, 24 October 2008


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Wonderful images and the words are so touching. My parents have been gone many, many years; they both died young, though some 10 years apart. I didn't photograph their end days, but I have many images that I took during my youth. Mom and Dad were great sports at letting me pose them for my photographs. They even kissed once at my direction so I could have a shot of it. I am so grateful today for those images.


My oldest and best friend from grade school and I were talking a couple of months back. We decided that when we hit this spot in our lives we want to have a party with our kids and spouses and then go to Arizona in the spring. Hit the desert, eat some peyote and walk out into the desert naked to die.

oh, I've seen that work and I think it's quite sweet, makes me sad..which is ok.

"Hit the desert, eat some peyote and walk out into the desert naked to die."

Good luck with that. Sometimes the magic works, and sometimes it doesn't.


Mike J.

Alzheimer.- I have pictures like these, so very much like these, from my dad. Philip, have your got a proper diagnosis for him (cerebrospinal fluid)? It's the first step to coping.

I went to visit my dad in the hospital during the final stages of terminal cancer and we hardly spoke a word. It wasn't like the movies, nothing profound was said. I don't even have a photograph of him, just a pair of his glasses right here next to me on my desk.

I admire the photographs and envy their relationship

A beautiful, touching photo essay trapped in a rather maddening, contrived navigation system. The mouse game is what I remember most strongly from visiting this fellow's site. Too cool for its own good.

Wow. My mom won't let me take pictures of her. She's only 68 but years in a nursing home with MS have taken their toll. She reluctantly let me take her picture a couple times with her granddaughter. They're snapshots, nothing remotely like Philips wonderful essay, but I wish I had more of them.


Thanks Mike, that was precious. I love that flick.

Old Skins is the man.

Me and my friend would probably wake up covered in our own puke and wander back to town for a solid breakfast.

Mike, as soon as I saw the image you posted on the site, I was reminded of a novel by the English author Kazuo Ishiguro entitled "Never Let Me Go." While I won't explain the plot, after viewing the website, the novel's theme of accepting the transience of all things hit my gut. While nothing is eternal, at least the father and son were able to experience and feel the bond between them during this time.

Now I have this beautiful melancholic feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Truly wonderful. Thought I would have a quick look at the link, and just sat for about an hour looking at the photos and reading the descriptions. Thanks Mike for this.

Thanks for pointing this out. Really moving, and superb photographs...

forgot where I first found this link.. it had touched me deeply then & still does.. shared it with friends, photo forums & my dementia support group.. (my father, a mathematician, has advanced Parkinson's.. then there's me, also an only child).. have managed to do a few similar photos since of him.. trying to capture the intelligence that was once there.. trapped in a body wasted.. a combo of "a beautiful mind", "awakenings" & "proof".. but hey.. he still has his sense of humor

I have seen this essay before. It is very well done and evocative. It makes one see that ordinary scenes in everyday life can make for wonderful photographs, if we do it right and with due consideration.

John R

Wonderful work, touching without any sentimentality, simply work of a great soul - and excellent craftsmanship.

For this content I gladly live with the unusual navigation.

For better navigation, use the directional keys instead of the mouse. It works for me...

Mike, I don't want to make this an equipment post so if you have any ideas perhaps you could reply to me and not post this.

I think this is a wonderful essay. But when I see these images they have a "look" I have sought for my own stuff. So, any guesses as to what kind of lens was used here? My first thought would be a 1.2 something.

This sort of relates to the COB posts. So many people say that it is not the equipment that makes the photograph, but the vision behind it. In my case, when I get excited about images I find that it actually is the equipment and most of the time I just can't afford it. I usually find that something like this essay was shot with a 5D and a 50/1.2. I couldn't sell my car and buy that setup.

These are photos taken in the last week of my Father's life:
My mother who is alive and well has never seen these nor have any of my family. My father did not know I was taking these photos.

I love it...

So human, simple and filled with touching thoughts...a little smile, a little cry...wonderful...just made me think of my grandfather...now I wish I had taken more photos of him or held his hand when he was in hospital..;
I think anyone could find something personal in this series....

I felt so close to him, just as if i had known this man, felt like laughing with him or soothing his pain....


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