Then I opened Instagram, ran a filter over it, and posted it — to send it off into the world to be liked and viewed for its moment of glory, and to shortly after join the stream of other Instagrams disappearing into our Internet wasteland.
I present to you my past month’s adventures in England and Scotland, via iPhone 4. With the exception of a handful of shots, most of these are Instagrammed.
Yes, I write about not knowing where or what home is.
That something is missing, that here isn’t quite right.
Then I walk around. I explore where I live.
And I’m reminded that things, truly, are fine.
I show a similar disinterest in my photography. Process and context are increasingly less significant. I’m preoccupied instead with creating the perfect shot for any given moment—worthy of an avatar, of a Facebook cover photo—and discarding the rest. A single unit is easier and faster to create—and consume.
I love experimenting with filters on static and solitary objects, clean symmetrical or diagonal lines, uncluttered compositions, and off-center focal points (especially with the tilt shift effect). Simply put, the app magnifies the gorgeousness of simplicity.
I’ve been in Istanbul for a week and have mainly used my new iPhone to take photographs. I was a (mostly disgruntled) BlackBerry user for three years until I got an iPhone over the holidays, so I’m very late to the iPhone party. And very new to Instagram, too. So, I decided to test out my iPhone camera and fiddle with filters (noted in parentheses).
The simplest description of the Neon Boneyard? It’s where Sin City’s signs go to die.
I stumbled upon Blu murals on my last two trips to Europe. While I love Blu’s mind-blowing wall-painting animations like Big Bang Big Boom and Muto, it’s cool to come upon his still images—and remnants of his animations—on facades around the world. Especially when you’re not looking for them.