2 Years 1 Photo a Day
A project to edit and publish one photo a day 🙂
Fireplay in Montreal.
View down the last DDR tower in Germany.
Abandoned hotel.
View from the Bosphorous in Istanbul.
Northern Sweden, 12 kilometers North of the Arctic Circle.
A bridge over the Bosphorous, which divides Turkey into Europe and Asia.
Night from from Bethlehem.
Dawn in Bethlehem.
A cat enjoys the shade and political controversy around Dome of the Rock.
Washington D.C.
What I love about Istanbul is the way history asserts itself.
Women takes pictures of the historical and still functioning Blue Mosque.
New York City.
Naturalisation Ceremony on the 4th of July at Thomas Jefferson’s mansion in Virginia.
Looking down a well in Senegal.
Botanical gardens in Cleveland.
Monticello, Virginia.
Monticello, Virginia.
Baltimore.
The northernmost refugee camp in the world, in Arctic Sweden.
The train– many refugees would come and leave here on a whims notice.
The children of the camp.
My mother embraces her mother goodbye at the nursing home.
My grandmother at the nursing home.
Hermann, a 90-year-old Hungarian survivor of the Holocaust.
Gay Pride in Jerusalem. In 2016, Jewish extremists stabbed a 16 year-old girl. This year’s parade included heightened security to protect the diverse celebrators of gay pride.
Happy days in Bethlehem.
Waiting for the water after 3 weeks of no water in Bethlehem.
Conservative onlookers of Pride Parade.
Shepherds Beer Festival in Bir Zeit, Palestine.
Boys being boys at Tel Aviv pride
Palestinians sharing a cigarette over the Israeli cop car.
Security at Tel Aviv pride.
Israeli military outpost along the Gaza border.
Israeli settlement outside of Bethlehem.
Daoud, an olive tree farmer.
I have been working in a refugee camp for the last three months. When I first got here it was insanely crowded. At times you had to fight your way to get from one side of the reception to the other. But in this next week the last of the people will be transferred. They are moving to camps across the country and for the first time, the building is completely empty.
Today was a good day in Montréal. I left the house at 1PM to walk the hour to my Arabic lesson. After learning some Arabic and walking around the city with my teacher/new friend, I made my way back home. As I crossed the park I saw the Tam Tams. Imagine a square full of people (young people old people African people international people Quebec people…so many people!!!) breathing of smoke and bursting with dance.
Waiting for the red moon.
Pittsburgh
I love the no-nonsense nostalgia of industrial cities. The tube-like highways of Baltimore and the boxy glamour of Pittsburgh office buildings.
What immediately shocked me about Charlottesville, VA was its presence of American flags. Flags everywhere! On the downtown strip, in restaurants, in houses. I have grown increasingly more interested in nationalism: what does the flag represent in terms of American and personal identity? What does American identity mean for “pure blood” Americans? What about for immigrants? And what about for those who speak with a perfect rendition of one of America’s many accents and still get asked: “Where do you come from?”
Finding the Crazy in the Burbs
Back in the day, I wasted away in the So-Cal suburbs. There was not much external stimulation, so we had to make our own. We took late night walks, breaking the 11pm curfew. We chit chatted through science class, provoking another fit of rage from our bipolar teacher. We scooted in a shopping cart through the Del Taco drive throughs, insisting that they take our order. We jogged in our bras along highways, laughing our asses off when we got honked at. We were absolute idiots, driving at 90mph through residential neighborhoods, lighting off fireworks in the megachurch parking lot. Impromptu dance parties, sing-a-longs, insanity in the reluctant acceptance that we were unpopular freaks, those kids weren’t going to like us, we barely liked ourselves anyway. So let’s just enjoy it.
Years down the line, I came back from a college break. I looked at the monotony of depressing houses. I thought about how creative people felt when they changed up their banister so it looked different from their neighbors. My friends and I had lost touch, or they had grown up. But I took a walk one night, grabbed my camera and tripod, and snapped away. I played around with shutter speed, with a flashlight, with the moon and encroaching shapes of shrubs. And suddenly my little suburb looked pretty magical. Like another planet. Like the place that we created for ourselves all those years back.
DC Tourin
When in DC, do not do as the DC-ers do. Instead, visit the sites. People watch. Pull out your photo apparatus and snap away.
Abla in Baltimore
I just spent a few days visiting a new, dear friend of mine in Baltimore. I met this girl very briefly a year ago. Recently, she invited a mutual friend and I to stay at her place. We slept in late, chit chatted, and adventured the region. So honored to have this amazing person as a friend!
Michaela Kobsa-Mark 