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It’s always the right time
… to light a cigar.
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Alive Or Not?
It’s a fraction of a gesture—half a figure, half a scene, the rest left to suggestion. The photograph wasn’t staged; I caught it walking past a mirrored office entrance. A man stood statue-still in the morning light, the crisp shirt collar slightly rumpled, his cardigan misaligned, tie pulled just a bit too tight. And in his hand, a cigarette—not lit, not smoked, merely held. Suspended. That detail alone tilted the entire scene into ambiguity. Technically, the image relies heavily on contrast—natural, unforgiving light from the left collides with deep shadows on the right. The tonal division reinforces the emotional ambivalence. It’s clean, yes, but harsh. The edges of the shirt…
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The Ghost
There’s an almost cinematic eeriness to this image, as if the subject has just stepped out of one reality and into another. The woman, her red hair catching the muted afternoon light, stands mid-pavement with her back partially turned. Her black gloves, long coat, and still posture evoke a figure from another era — an apparition caught in a modern street. The muted colours of the cars and buildings behind her only serve to make her presence more striking. From a compositional standpoint, the frame is well balanced. The subject occupies the vertical centre-left, her figure breaking the dominant horizontals of the street and architecture. The crossing lines of the…
