We went to the beach once. Fed the birds...

We went to the beach once. Fed the birds...

Don’t know what happened after. It all went black.

Luckily my thoughts were dark anyway...

Some days it is okay not to be okay. But the next day I want to smile all the bad stuff away...

Exactly one year ago I was preparing a big bag full of 35mm and 120 film and about to hop on the plane to one of my many and I dare say most special adventures. Visiting the beautiful Kayan people in Myanmar.

I always meet special people during all of my travels and this was no exception. And never would have expected that it would also be one of my most special birthdays I have ever had.

Just finished watching the latest update from the Dutch government and the progress the virus is taking. And I have to admit it made me really miss all the friends I have made all over this beautiful world we live in.

I miss my friends of course from Myanmar, and luckily I see plenty of videos that come my way from all the villages. But I also miss my friends from other places like I made in Vietnam or France. The US and also Iran. Germany and also India. Jerusalem and Bethlehem. And everything in between.

For me sometimes, days are tough. For example like this one when the missing of doing what you love is just a little bit more than normal. But luckily I have learned a long time ago that being strong not only physical but also mentally and spiritually also means being vulnerable. And not shying away from that vulnerability.

And luckily I also learned that despite having a tough day today it will also mean that this bearded face will be able to smile again tomorrow. And hopefully smile that stupid corona away.

It’s just something I wanted to say.

A gateway to another dimension...

It is finally happening. I have found a second gateway to the another dimension.! Hopefully this time it will be less intense than the first time... Maybe it will be like riding a bike or something.

Freedom...

And the more you do it the easier it will get...

It will be great to see dad again. And I know I will be be fine. Because he is on the other side...

Publication in Lens Magazine.

Hey everyone,

Well I was talking about another announcement I would make this week. And I am happy to say that my Neshama Sheli project can be seen and read in Lens Magazine.

Sometimes I call it paying the man. Sometimes I quote Invictus. But in the end it just means hard work pays off…

Things like these for me are amazing and you can sure as hell expect that I will drink a beer or to to celebrate.

To know that your work will be in a printed and digital magazine I a crown on all of the hard work. Print of course the most haha.

I will expect that I will be working for another six years on this project. So who knows where it will end up in the end…

Thanks Dafna and Ziv!

You can buy Lens Magazine through PocketMags, Magtzer, and your Amazon Kindle. Physical prints go through MagCloud.

Don’t forget you can support my work by buying me a coffee on my Ko-fi page. Or buying a print of course.

Today is a good day!

~ Cristian

Edge of Humanity Magazine - Souls of Iran.

Hey all,

Quick little update.

Some of my photographs can now be seen in the Edge of Humanity Magazine from my Souls of Iran series.

The article can be found here.

There will be some other news this week too. Stay tuned for that.

~ Cristian

P.S. I you like my work and my stories but the regular ways are not right at this moment for you. You can always support me though my Ko-fi page.

A fistful of fifties and a day without fear...

Rise above…

Henry Rollins was and is punk rock icon. When he was young he was build like a brick. Loud, and would make you question your own thoughts. Loud and fearless. Exactly what the youth needed in the 70’s/80’s.

After every hard and loud show of his punk band Black Flag he would wait outside and was open to a debate to anyone that didn’t agree with his views or lyrics.

That was a welcoming difference instead of the regular fighting and stabbings that would happen on regular occasions. Or the, back than, metal scene. Not all of the debates ended up in hugging and kissing though…

If I am correct he even got close to the end of his life actually a couple of times.

The band became one of the most important bands in modern punk history. And for me personally I listened to Black Flag a lot. Besides my metal music of course.

I will include a photograph in the bottom of the story of me with my own band.

On a later age Henry Rollins started a new band named the Henry Rollins band, started doing stand-up comedy and spoken word (which is also very good go check it out.). And became a not just a punk icon but also a icon by itself. His raw emotions from his lyrics were tuned so he could transform into grown man with a encyclopedia of life experience and the tooling to get his deep thoughts out. Still with a bit of rawness left.

Punk in the shape of a gentle man.

I put a space between those words with a reason…

I lost track of him for a short while…

Life happened. Discovered new music and bands. Learned to appreciate classical music. And by a twist of fate I ran into a episode of Dürch die nacht mit… (During the night with…).

It is a show where they following two persons for the entire night. Sort of like a date. Only different.

You can see the episode here on Vimeo.

This episode was not only with him but also with Iranian artist, Shirin Neshat.

This specific episode embodied for me the ultimate love story. Two artist from other sides of the world. One outspoken and the other introvert. One raw, and the other delicate. A dance between love and fate waiting to finally find balance. Two parts of a soul to frightened to dare if they can become one.

Every part of the story resonated with me. He told about old love and how she died. Love that didn’t work. She told him about love and pain of hers.

He needs to be a little less stubborn though.

At least that is how the episode was in my mind. Beautiful. But probably to good to be true.

The end of the episode came and as far as I know they never ended up together. That is a shame, but that sometimes how life goes… And love stories don’t always end well…

And was it even a love story?

Or was it even real it all?

Maybe that love story and the energy between those two was just a figment of my imagination….

Intangible love.

A man and woman that were so attracted to each other. But couldn’t have each other…

But what is real?

Are you real?

Am I real?

Is reality real?

It is and was a long introduction to the rest of my story. But I don’t believe in short. I am way too much of a drama queen for that. But who says I cannot create a new reality for myself…

The question of what is real and do we even need real I will answer for myself in the project about my father. First couple of months were mostly finding my groove… What medium I wanted to use as in the film type and developer. And a lot of sketching and trying.

Just shooting is what I need to do and finally you will strike something that seems fitting and you write on like that.

If you are familiar with creating music it is the same as just riffing or playing progressions and chords until you find the voice that you need to tell the story.

Sometimes it takes a long times. Sometimes it goes quickly. But the moment you find it, it becomes magical and you know how to go on. That part happened though.

The beauty is. This project also feels like releasing the shackles that I gave myself focusing on documentary work.

Suddenly there were no rules anymore. And all the things that were in my imagination was allowed to be done. Exploration of life. Death. The universe. Metaphors.

Smoke and mirrors. And even text and a portal I could disappear into towards another world.

My world.

The world of that flying snowman I sometimes talk about. Only more dark, gritty, and emotional.

Reflective but not afraid.

Something she mentioned…

Shirin mentioned in that specific episode “you need a closing of the past to move forward”. And that is what I tend to achieve.

Sometimes I will hear no. Or find some truths that hurt. Or it brings out old emotions. In my photographers notebook I write besides my darkroom times for my prints also some poetry. Some will make it in the project. Some are just for my eyes only. But also while writing those it can be very confronting especially when they are about feelings that I have to admit to myself like a mirror but in words… Things I have missed in my childhood for example.

Other notes are just imaginary stories about adventures we are having. Like the project is intended.

So a closing of the past will be done.

But that is good. It is all done from love and that is what you need to heal. But also to able to make something last. But I have written about that already so many times…

A fistful of fifties and a day without fear…

One of the many things that I have learned traveling to a lot of places in the world is that in the end we all long for the same things. And that it doesn’t matter where you come from.

We all long for hope, love, no pain. To have a good life. We all feel hurt sometimes and angry. And filled with joy. But sadness is a big part of it too.

To have the resources to take care of ourselves and our loved ones. Henry Rollins would say “A fistful of fifties and a day without fear!“ We are all the same human.

This weekend I also had a long talk with my grandmother. She wanted to be a participant in my project. And it would be a great moment to take a portrait of her. And when we were talking she confirmed to me all the things I have just mentioned.

Also I asked her what was the happiest day of her life. And she told me it was the day she got married. So she wanted to be in the photograph with Henk, her late husband.

The photograph you can see on my Ko-fi page.

It is not in it’s final form. And the master print still needs to be made. But hey, sharing something every once in a while can’t hurt.

In the end when the whole project is done I hope to have translated everything into visuals and words. And somehow be able to contribute my part in society and maybe help to translate to each other that we don’t differ indeed that much. That I believe is something that is needed in our current climate. More and more polarization is what you see everywhere. That is not good…

To bring this story to an end….

Ironically I have stopped listening to Black Flag for today. It is past 22:00 and I am getting sleepy… So the crushing vocals are now replaced by Edith Piaf.

No worries Henry. I will be listening to you again later this week again.

Have a good night all…

~ Cristian

P.S. I you like my work and my stories but the regular ways are not right at this moment for you. You can always support me though my Ko-fi page.

And below you will find Cris and the first iteration of his band when he was young.

From let to right. Me, Stefan, Leroy, Sander.

Henry Rollins taken by Anton Corbijn. From the book 1-2-3-4.

Support me on Ko-fi...

Hey everyone,

Not a super long update this time. I am melting away because of the heat wave we are currently experiencing in the Netherlands.

In the meantime what I did manage to do between plenty of shooting was to create a Ko-fi page.

A Ko-fi page a place where you can donate some money to buy a cup of coffee. Or in my case, rolls of film.

You can find the page over here…

I did this because I know there are some people that would love to support me, but don’t have the budget to buy a print. Which I can totally understand.

That is it for now. Back to my ice-cream…

~ Cristian

Diary entry during a pandemic once forgotten... The death of my father... And a flying snowman...

The radio is on…

At least that what we have said years and years ago… But it is just regular old Spotify. No LP’s today.

Fairuz is playing. She is a Lebanese singer which I have just discovered this morning. What a beautiful voice she has. It reminded me of more beauty that I know, so I send it to her…

It also reminded me that I needed to write a little bit again. A sort of a update. Or a story. A glimpse of my mind. A question. A observation. Or maybe all of the above… Just look at it as a diary entry…

Unfortunately writing blog posts is not as romantic as writing a journal. And years and years after I have died my journal is the thing most likely to be found. And not my blog.

Does it matter anyway?

Everything matters…

All of it. All the little bits and pieces in between matter. I love writing. And who knows who is reading this and is interested what goes on in the mind of a artist.

I think I am not really made for creating YouTube videos. And if I would ever do that. I think it is way more important to talk about the art and philosophy of photography instead of gear. And that is all what you see nowadays. Anyways, writing seems just more fitting for me.

So here it is. More writing. Are you ready for the copious amount of text?

I sure am…

Writing sometimes takes me days though. And I don’t know how many days it will take me to finish this story. You can guess more than a few…

There once was a pandemic…

If I look outside the world almost looks like normal again but strangely it isn’t… Borders are opening up in Europe which is nice. So will it be finally time for me to take another trip? I hope so… But where will it be… I want to work more on my current projects. Or maybe even start a new one in a place where I have never gone before. Traveling I miss so much! That is no secret… The places where I want to go are outside of Europe. And they are either still in lock-down now. Or not taking any visitors.

Just be patient, Cris. It will be fine…

Although as a individual I am not afraid of the virus. There are still many things to take into account though.

But again… As I look outside…. The world seems normal again…

But it isn’t…

There is still a pandemic going on…

Do we ever learn…

The pandemic did made me realize it was finally time to start a photo essay about my father. But if you want to read more about that… You need to read just a little bit more of this story.

So in a way “I” learned. Finally a project which I really care about back-home. Finally a project back-home that I love.

And like I always say: Love is the one thing one needs to succeed. And it doesn’t matter what it is… If there is no love. It will not succeed.

But when I look around me. And when I observe as what photographers are supposed to do. Unfortunately I see a lack of love.

That sounds dark. But life is dark. Without darkness there cannot be light. But no worries. I will end with some happiness in the end… Well… Sort off…

It is the ying to the yang. Or the, as above to the, so below.

Countless and countless of humans still chose the life in between. Old patterns. Afraid to take chances. And trying to clinch on to the old.

It should have been a teachable moment….

One would think that something as humongous as a global pandemic would made as change the way we are. But saying it like a Dutch man. We hebben geen reet geleerd. (We didn’t learn shit.).

Still always in a hurry…

You can see it by the traffic lights. It is a prime example how to deal with things. Not waiting for the green. Because one thinks that he or she is so special it doesn’t apply to them.

The human ego what constructs that is also responsible for more extreme things. Because it is always looking to bend it a little bit more…

In the end it is responsible of war and famine. Injustice and racism. And even the whole cancel culture which I despise to the core, is a result of it.

Why do we keep hurting ourselves…

So is the human ego to blame for it all? I don’t know… I philosophize about it a lot. And it also seems that patterns are a big part of it.

Patterns. Nature… Nurture…

It is the reason I guess why people keep stuck in relationships that doesn’t give them happiness. Or keep doing their dead-end job. It is safe. It is everything one knows…

And change is scary…

Yes. Even for me…

And even more so. Change hurts…

A lot!

A pandemic should be the catalyst to finally make the changes we need. From a micro level in ones personal life. To a macro level for the entire globe.

There is some change going on as you can see with all the protest because of the death of George Floyd. But will it be enough? I hope so. But you also see that with every movement there are a lot of people being taken advantage of. Or being used as puppets for another agenda. But that is something that has been going on forever and noticed since I have been studying history books.

Let’s just hope it is all enough. But the main thing is one needs to discover nuance. Life I guess is a lot like Ilford Delta 400. Between black and white there are so many different shades of grey…

Life should be like a movie…

I wish everyone the happiness they deserve in their lives. Whatever that means for them. And the hopeless romantic in me, if he had a magic wand. He would give it to everyone around the globe… I would wave with my wand and say: Hope you find your soulmate. Or smoke your cigar on that yacht if that is your thing. Or ride your motorcycle. Or find that special coffee. Or supermarkets without lines. Or your cabana at the beach.

But that is not how it works…

You are responsible for your own happiness. And that takes a lot courage…

Years and years ago. Or maybe even when I was a little kid I decided for myself that my life deserves to be like a movie. I always had a overactive imagination. I love that so much in me. Is that a weird thing to say? But yes, it indeed involved finding the love of my life. Traveling the world. And telling amazing tales…

So would that be the cure for the world? Living your life like in the movies?

A horror movie would not be a good idea though haha. Just make it a nice one…

But will you promise me to take that chance?

Life is too short not to.

Don not fade away…

Cris! Will you finally tell the part about the project of your dad!

Calm down… Calm down…

It is my story… My journal… My movie…

So behind this keyboard. Or with my pen or camera. I make the rules…

A flying snowman…

So here it goes…

I had a conversation with my sister a couple of weeks back. And we came to the conclusion that we have nothing left of our father. The reason of that I will keep that to myself. But it was heartbreaking for me and my sister nonetheless.

So I had a idea when I was taking a shower. And the idea was that this story could be like a movie too! And I knew the perfect one…

Ever since I was little I was fascinated with a short movie of a flying snowman. Literally called “The Snowman“. I linked the name to the Wikipedia page. And here is a link to the clip of the song “Walking in the air“.

I think most of you who are around my age and grew up in my part of the world are familiar with this song. You may not know it by title. But I bet as soon as you hear the first words you will remember it instantly.

It is the story about a little boy who meets a snowman and goes on a amazing adventure in the night. And flies aaaaalllll over the snowy country side… Meets his snowman friends and plenty of more creatures. But when he wakes up the next morning…

His best friend in the world…. Melted…

The most toughest task ahead…

My father died when I was three years old. I do not have many memories of him. I remember his funeral and how his casket disappeared into the ground vividly. But despite not having to many memories, in my imagination he was my best friend in the world.

So I am creating the memories I have never had with him. We go on a adventure and meet also plenty of beautiful creatures.

It is going to be very conceptual so that is totally new for me. And therefore a challenge. But I am sure I will succeed because it is made out of love. Also it is going to be a very emotional project for me. But that is good. Some parts of me still need to heal. And confronting it is the only way.

And of course it couldn’t be anything else then a adventure. I mean, all of my fathers. My father and my grandfathers were all adventurers. And so am I!

It is going to take a while…

When will it be done… I don’t know… Good photographic projects take a while. And nowadays people think a project that takes three months is long… I can tell you, that is not long… Salgado or Peter Beard would not shy away from years and years of work…

In the world of instant gratification the long term photographic essay seems forgotten. But it is the only way to make a piece of art that will last for generations ahead.

So it will be done when it is done. And when that time has come I will share it with the world. Some people close to me may see sketches. But that is it.

Isn’t it exciting to see a project when it is done instead of all the updates or shots on Instagram? The surprise we be bigger that way. It makes you stare longer at a photograph. Otherwise it will be lost in the abyss in a second… Because it is not new anymore…

Art is made to be experienced in real life anyway…

And maybe…. Just maybe….

Life is to be experienced in real life anyway….

A end to a story… For now that is…

I like drama. I like dramatic movies… Or books… Or music…

The whole feeling of melancholy gives a experience of a beautiful suffering.

I will link the Fairuz songs at the bottom of the post plus one bonus. And two photographs.

But how to end…

To keep it full of drama… A while back I finished a book named “The Memory Police“ bu Yoko Ogawa. She is a amazing writer. And if you don’t like spoilers don’t read further… Because this story may sort of end the same way…

Me. Cristian Geelen… Sitting here with his laptop… Camera next to him.

Writing about love and life… A pandemic…

And slowly he disappears…

First his hands… Than his nose…

His arms and legs…

His lips and his eyes followed…

Until there is nothing left but his voice and his camera…

And even that…

Is what the wind took away…

~ Cristian

The song of Fairuz I was talking about.

This one is bonus because I think it is super beautiful too.

Mini me and my awesome doggie name Ricky. He would protect me from all the evil in the world.

Adult me with his trusty Nikon. Able to squat a horse and about to rip his pants again. Waiting until he can go on adventures…

Solidarity protest against anti-black violence in the US and EU. - Haarlem, the Netherlands.

Hey all,

Today it was Haarlems turn to hold a Solidarity protest against anti-black violence in the US and EU.

Needed to safe film so I took my digital camera out today. Did throw a super old manual lens on it though.

So here are the frames. And keep on fighting racism and inequality!

~ Cristian

P.S. If your are a paper or media outlet. Please contact before using.

New prints available.

Hey all,

I already put this message up on Instagram. But if you read it here instead, all kudos to you.

I have put some new prints in my web shop ready to be sold.

All of those prints are made on Fomatone warmtone fiber archival paper and hand printed by the artist. Me.

Blood, sweat, and tears in the darkroom. So this is not CTRL+P work.

Also they are signed and dated.

Shipping can be done worldwide and will be send with tracking.

So if you are interested. You can find the print section here.

Small side-note:

Somehow I find this important to mention…

I know they seem expensive. But actually they are under-priced.

With all the images on the internet and mainly platforms like Instagram, it seems a little bit lost on why a print cost what they cost. And even prints made from digital files take a lot of work.

You have of course not only the craftsmanship where you pay for. People have dedicated a huge portion of their lives on perfecting it. Travel costs. Cost of material. Artists have to pay taxes too. Etc etc etc…

The end resultant is a product that will last multiple lifetimes…

That is it for now…

And hope everyone is safe in this crazy world at the moment.

~ Cristian

My COVID-19 notes... And a heart that broke.

It was Ramadan 2017…

It was Ramadan 2017… Sitting in a taxi to the bus station of the city of Esfahan, Iran…

The taxi driver was an old man. Beautiful aged and had his nice vest on. Big old man belly. And a big old smile to accompany it.

On our way to the bus station his favorite song played on the radio and he was singing along. And wanted to show me his singing skills.

We didn’t speak the same language but understood each other. And it was one of those moments where you realize what traveling is all about.

The feeling of reading a thousand books in one second.

The feeling of answering your soul’s calling.

The feeling of that this moment is worth all the trouble you went through to get there.

I should have taken his portrait…

“I should have taken his portrait…” Is what I was thinking when I got on the bus… Next time… Next magical moment…

Emotions and practicality took overhand because me not speaking Farsi and trying to find the right bus among 50+ buses was quite the task. And like everyone in a strange country and want to go to your next destination, you want to be in the right one. Luckily so many sweet people around, and they guided me towards the right one.

Onward to my next destination, Shiraz…

The place place of the amazing Bagheri family and spaghetti ice cream…

A pandemic happened…

There is no going around it. The entire world is affected. Everything is at a stand still. And for a good reason of course.

When the press conference in the Netherlands at March 12th started, out of the blue a thunderstorm erupted. It was almost a scene of a movie where the thunder signaled the severity of the case and made sure we knew from now on the world would never be the same again.

Waking up…

One of the following mornings I woke up and I looked at my phone. There were a lot of text messages… They made me feel special and blessed. They were from friends from all over the world. Some from India, Iran, Myanmar, Colombia, France, Germany, the US, Jerusalem, the West-Bank…

I started to text them all back of course. And I texted all of the other people that immediately popped into my mind. I just wanted to know they are safe.

They are all okay. Thank god.

When it all lands…

My monkey mind where I always talk and write about was pondering again during the course of the morning…

And at that moment I got sad.

We all know the effects of things like these. And we already know all of the answers. But that moment when the man with the hammer comes and hits you over the head with it always comes to make it land a little bit harder. And there are so much layers to it.

Of course it sucks, for me as a individual that I cannot work on my documentary projects again all over the world. And sucks is an understatement. I worked all my life the come to this point and was not given a dime or didn’t receive any help getting there. I created that life for me, from nothing, and totally on my own, from a life where I had literally nothing.

Nothing was given. Everything was earned.

Seeing all things crumble before your eyes where you worked so hard for because of something that is out of your control just plainly fucking sucks.

But it is not important and totally not part of the point I am trying to make.

As a good stoic you know it is not under control. Will I be able to continue my projects this year? Or next year? I will dust myself off and try again when it is possible and rebuild.

It briefly passed my mind…

The feeling I describe above was actually a fraction of the thoughts I was having. And they went away when I was given a more important thought.

I am so lucky that I live here in the Netherlands. Where everything is efficient and well organized. And so is the COVID-19 response.

But what about all the people that are more vulnerable? Or people that I have met all over the globe that literally live in different worlds? The refugees? The ingenious people? All the others?

That was the moment my heart broke…

A lot of people are defenseless all over the world. I spoke to a friend who works for a aid organisation and she told me that it would be disastrous if the virus would hit the refugee camps.

And that would be the same for a lot of other places.

People are already without food after just a couple of days and weeks into the global lock-down. And a lot of people earn their money with the small business that they have, and feed their families with that money. There are mostly no savings. And what they got is what they have. So if they can’t earn. That means there is no food.

One can’t imagine how it is to go days without food and not knowing when there will be a next opportunity to get your next meal again.

Can’t drive your taxi, no income. Can’t sell your falafel, no income. Can’t sell your slippers, no income.

No income means no food. And you know what happens after that…

It was just one of the many thoughts I was having. And the scenarios were endless…

So many things to think about. And it is easy to get lost into a negative spiral your mind takes you. But it is a reality. Unemployed rates in the US have been about 20+ million. And I don’t know how many business in the Netherlands will survive.

Spain, Iran, and Italy had soaring death rates.

And the list goes on and on…

It really makes me sad. And even strong Dutch guys can shed a tear every once in a while.

So now what…

I don’t know…

I always have plenty of answers for every situation. But this time I haven’t. I wish I had. Things are looking good at this side of the world. Numbers of infection are going down. And luckily all of my friends at all the other sides over the world are safe. I am grateful for that.

And hopefully all the beautiful people I haven’t met yet are safe too.

I want to meet you one day…

It helped to get my mind out of that negative spiral of pondering.

Reflect…

It is a good moment for reflection though. Doesn’t matter who you are. To realize what is important and what isn’t. And maybe to focus to make the world a better place not only now. But also when all of this is over. Strive for happiness, whatever that means to you.

Make new connections with people, or repair them if that one is important to you. Or even break them if they are not healthy for you.

A lighter reflection moment. I never realized how many times I touch my nose during the day…

And also if there isn’t a better time to take photographs of your loved ones or situation (safely and responsible of course) and talk to your everyone that is important to you, it is now.

Let them know how you feel.

And I should really take more photograph in a casual setting too I just realized while uploading some phone photos to add to this post. Not just professional ones. But also the fun ones are important.

As far as photography goes. I am printing a lot more. Gave my darkroom a upgrade. And try to photograph and document they situation as much as possible.

So why am I writing…

Well first of all I am a story teller with traveling engraved in it’s soul. I really miss it… I really do…

But I cannot change it. And maybe I will write a future blog post why it is so important. Makes you learn. And how my grandfathers played a big role in it. They were real life Indiana Jones’s. That is for sure.

Writing is also a way to cope for me. Writing is good. If it is either writing in your journal just for your own, or a blog post.

So yes, right now I am coping. Writing. Venting. And dealing with this.

Like everyone else is doing…

Every story should have a ending…

The end of this write up is reminding me of a beautiful person that I know got upset because the movie Vertigo didn’t give any closure when the movie was over. (I love her for that fact alone.)

How and why Scottie did what he did, and Judy and the bell tower… Pfff… Yeah that was a moment in cinema history…

So for now closure in this story is that it, for me, now, is just documenting this situation. Writing. Venting. And put what my monkey mind is thinking into words or images.

If you have any book suggestions, maybe leave a comment. I am looking for new reading material.

The bigger story is still ongoing…

Be safe…

And everything will be fine in the end. And if it isn’t fine… It isn’t the end…

~ Cristian

When the Bagheri family dropped me off at the bus station when I was leaving Shiraz again.

Having tea on my birthday with Moly and her family.

A two hour talk with Mohammed about life, faith, and everything in between…

F-Stop Magazine: Issue #100 April - May 2020 — Past/Future

Hey all,

Happy to say that some work of my is part of F-Stop Magazine: Issue #100 April - May 2020 — Past/Future.

Super happy about it.

You can check out the latest edition of F-Stop Magazine here:

~ Cristian

Article in the French magazine L'Œil de la Photographie

Hey everyone,

And a day after the first article I have gotten the great news that my work is a featured portfolio in the French magazine L'Œil de la Photographie.

Two amazing ones in a row! I feel super blessed!

You can check it out here.

~ Cristian

Article on Emulsive. - People of Myanmar: The Kayan and Kayah

Hey everyone,

There is a article published about my work in Myanmar on the analog photography website, Emulsive.

Super proud and happy to see my work on there.

You can check it out here if you are interested.

Hope you all have a great weekend!

~ Cristian

Some sun and some prints...

Finally… The sun was out…

December third was the last time I have updated my blog. The whole reason for that? Work… I think it took me about to the end of December to finalize my Myanmar work. Than came all the emailing, contacting, printing, writing, and so much more! Also research for my projects this year… So much research…

Now it is February already and it feels like a second winter here in the Netherlands.

Luckily the sun was out last Friday so that meant I could shoot some street. You can find those at the end of the post. And as you can guess. It is not going to be a long one.

Two updates…

One:

I made five prints in my darkroom which are up for sale in my print store. It is one of Phaw and is printed on Ilford Multigrade RC warmtone paper with warmtone developer. Click here to go to my print store so you can order one if you like it.

It is matted, signed, and numbered, and ready to frame and hang on your wall.

Like I said, it is a run of five. And all handmade by myself in my darkroom. Old school silver gelatin hand work.

Will print more later on. But printing in a darkroom takes a lot of time and energy. It is a different and also difficult craft besides the photographing and developing itself.

The second one:

March 6th there will be article out on Emulsive. Of course when it is live everyone will be spammed. It will be one about my Myanmar project. So super excited about it.

Looking for a gallery:

Also I am looking for a gallery to exhibit my Myanmar project. So if you are reading this, and you are a curator. Don’t hesitate to contact me. I sincerely appreciate it.

Some photographs…

Like I promised. Here are the photographs from last sunny Friday. I have shot it with my regular Ilford film. Some Rollei Retro 400s I have found in my fridge. And Even a roll of Acros.

But I hate talking about gear and gear related stuff. In the end it’s the photograph what counts. Even more so… In my humble opinion. A photograph is not a photograph until it is printed.

Not on the internetz…

*click the photographs to make them bigger.

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Remembering my grandfather...

Still working on my Myanmar project…

It was a nice sunny autumn day in the Netherlands. Still working on my Myanmar project.

I needed a break…

I have been working non-stop only to realize I need to re-do a lot of stuff (at the early morning of writing this). But at least the editing process went well. So that is a plus.

So last Saturday for my break time I decided to take a walk. I am lucky enough that I am surrounded by plenty of nature in the area where I live. So that is perfect to ground myself a bit.

Earthing…

It’s a crude translation of the Dutch word “aarden“ but it get’s to point across. It is good to be one with nature. Gives you peace of mind and replenishes your energy.

So I did some earthing and brought my grandfathers old carry-around. A roll of Fuji Superia X-tra 400 to see if it was still functional. And the relaxation could begin.

I got a text from beautiful friend…

Made me smile…

I replied with a photograph of the area I was surrounded in…

Life is good…

Henk…

My grandfathers name was Henk. He was an amazing man but also a old and grumpy sailor. He was like a real life Indiana Jones back in the day. Oooooooh the stories he had..

Luckily I have the genes of both of my grandfathers and both of them were amazing and also amazing adventurers. And I am lucky I learned so much from them.

And it was an honor to carry his coffin to his grave.

So why write this…?

Don’t expect any artwork. I think it is always good to share things. And maybe it gives a glimpse in what photographers do in their free time. Also sharing my passion for analog film.

Plus I love to write…

So here are some snapshots I took with my grandfathers old Fuji-DL15.

Now back to work…

~ Cristian

I am the richest man in the world... The story about me in Myanmar.

Cris you are the richest man in the world…

That is what she said when we ended lunch. Or at least something similar… It doesn’t matter in the end though. It is what she meant what counts.

A cold Saturday back in the Netherlands and she finally gave me the words that I needed to start writing again. I has been a while since my last decent story. But that is okay. It was a busy time.

Just returned back form Myanmar photographing one of the most beautiful things I have ever experienced. What a trip…

I left…

*Note: Some photographs, and people I want to thank at the bottom.*

At the beginning of October I left the Netherlands to go on my adventure. Objective of the adventure: Try to tell the story of the indigenous tribes in Myanmar and how they deal with modern times.

First a small stop in Bangkok and from Bangkok I flew to Yangon, Myanmar. Too many airports, especially because I was traveling with a ton of film. But luckily all of the customs where so nice. Especially in Asia. They noticed me standing in line with my big see through bags full of film and my film was hand checked as soon as I got through customs myself. The airport in France on the other hand… They need to work on their manners a bit… But that is story is for another time… CDG, you suck.

In Bangkok I stocked up on even some more film and I was ready to go. For the people that are interested in what cameras I brought. It was my trusty Nikon FM2n and a old Yashica Mat 124G. As a back-up I brought my Nikon D810. A digital one. But that camera has never left my bag. My mind was determent this was going to be a analog only trip. If they could do it in the old days, it could be done now. And so I did.

Arriving in Yangon…

My arrival could have gone better. As soon as I got in the taxi I started feeling sick… What could it be… I never get sick… I shared the taxi with a girl which I have met at the airport and I tried to keep myself in order. Cracked open the window to get some fresh air, but with all the rain and thunder going on it was not the smartest of ideas.

As soon as I arrived in my hostel the food poisoning which I apparently had, kicked into fifth gear. Locking myself up in the toilet was the only option. Too bad the hostel turned off the water right at that exact moment.

Fuck.

Preparing for my last leg…

After being knocked off my feet for almost two days I got outside to get some fresh air and bought some Royal D. That is some sort of electrolyte drink and I needed that. I was so dehydrated… What I didn’t need was to be in a bumpy bus later that day, but I had no choice. I had to. Loikaw was up, and I just really wanted to go there. My final destination.

Luckily I met a super cool guy in the bus. And what do you know. I ran into him on the way back too.

The country had so many similarities to all the other countries I have been… And as soon as I arrived at the bus station right outside of the city it immediately felt like I was in Iran.

The whole country for me was the perfect combination of the kindness of the people of Iran, the amazing food of Vietnam, and the energy of the streets of India…

Beautiful…

Faith and a doorway to a store full of Longyi…

There she was. Standing in the doorway of a shop that sold longyis. A super big smile on her face, and so on mine. A split second was only needed before we recognized each other.

Victoria…

One of the beautiful souls that helped me so much on my way. Without her… I think most of my project would have failed. Or at least more difficult.

Professional photographer!!! it sounded!

Aaaaaaaah Victoria! So good to finally see you for real!

We exchanged a lot of messages over WhatsApp before my arrival and how she could have be of help. I ended up at random at one of her stores. I just went for a stroll to check out the city and stretch my legs, so faith decided I would meet her immediately without even texting her.

I love faith.

Me and the Chinese motorbike…

As stubborn sometimes I can be the first day I got myself a Chinese motorbike. Victoria warned me not to take that one. But me being Dutch and wanting to save money made me decide to take that one.

My ass did not thank me for that decision…

I took the motorcycle to drive to one of the first villages. It is not allowed to stay in the villages overnight, which I think is a really good thing. So the plan was to drive every morning to at least one of them and drive back before sunset.

But as unpredictable as life is… So was the rest of my journey…

Let me tell you about Moly…

Hair braided and hanging to the side with an umbrella in hand she walked towards me and asked me: Are you Cris?

The only thing I could think was she was like a beautiful young princess that could have walked right out of a Disney movie. Young and and early in her twenties I noticed she was the only one wearing western style dress…

Yes yes… I am Cris! I answered…

You must be Moly?

Moly was my interpreter in the village. I was so happy I immediately ran into her. This because after enjoying the beautiful landscapes of Myanmar I got lost, and it started to rain like Odin cried his heart out. The poncho I brought did it’s job perfectly. Camera dry, and my body too. My feet not so much, and so weren’t my glasses.

An interpreter is needed because all of the villages of the indigenous people around the country of Myanmar have their own language.

We were standing in the middle of the road, a soccer match to the left, a garrison of armed soldiers on the right. And us discussing what my plan was for the day and maybe the days later, and was I was to expect.

She hopped on the back of my Chinese motorbike the same way an amazon warrior does and told me to drive out of the village to one further away…

And so we drove…

Mulon…

I was honored to meet and have a talk with Mulon… She was one of the grandmothers of the village. She was cooking rice and preparing food for the community so Moly and I joined her for the cooking.

But what do you talk about?

I mean I am sort of good in conversation. And I have seen a lot in my life… But if you arrive finally at the place you have been preparing for, for a long time. And also, let’s be honest, seeing an old but beautiful woman with a neck almost twice the size as mine, I mean… That made me a little bit lost for words.

But after a short while the first jokes were cracked. And in the end we talked about everything that life is about.

The beauty is. And I think one of lessons you always learn no matter where you go in the world. We have more in common than we think, and we all long for the same things in life…

We ended with a portrait session…

Evil spirits…

I said goodbye to Moly for the day and made plans to return upcoming days. Because in an instant, this place already captured my heart.

Victoria made sure I was going to other places. Thank god for Victoria. I think I almost would have lived there already. So good of her that she kicked my ass into gear. Also she got me a way better motorbike.

So one of the mornings I went to the farthest place away… It was a three hour ride over mountain roads that were not always that good anymore. So a driver was needed. To share costs I joined a Spanish blogger, Manuela. And two young vibrant Burmese women, Sandar and Marina.

I cannot describe where we ended up in but it was so amazing. I think it was way to describe all of the times I arrived at a new places.

Manuela was put into traditional clothing, and off we went to the courtyard of a house in the middle of the village.

Pot and pans everywhere. A dead pig in some burning bushes. And than it started…

There was some commotion…

A rifle shot…

Playing of drums began…

The shaman was doing his ceremony with spear and shield, walking on the beat of the drum. And on some of the drum beats, more rifle fire.

They were old rifles… So old and bent, I think if you want to go out and shoot something with it you will probably hit yourself in the foot. Or any other place other than the target.

But that is okay. For the ceremony it did exactly what it had to do…

The shaman was doing all of this to get the evil spirits away from the house. Catch them. Put them in a basket with some bamboo strips and chicken bones. And bury it outside of the village where they can do no to anyone.

At one moment more rice wine…

My stomach still wasn’t settled but I drank it anyway. I mean, you only live once… And I actually quite like it. And luckily it is without alcohol I learned later. That’s a good thing… Because a couple of days later on my birthday I drank a lot more!

Fuck, it’s my birthday…

My phone started ringing early in the morning… It was Victoria.

Happpppppppyyyy Biiirrtthhdaayyy Crrriiiissss!!!

She remembered and she was actually the first one to congratulate me. Later that day she was also responsible for one of the three times I celebrated it.

I never celebrate it like a normal Dutch person does. I like it and don’t like it at the same time. I always try to be away but with Victoria around there was no escaping it.

But I had to put some clothes on… Super excited. Because I was going back to the first village and meet up with Moly and her grandmother.

Moly’s grandmother was not alone. She brought her best friend… Phaw…

For my birthday we went to their favorite place. A rice field somewhere in the mountains. It was quite the walk, but those two grandmothers walked like the wind. 78 and 74 years old but so strong and agile.

At one point we ran into a cow herder and he asked Moly where they hid me. This because I was so big in comparison to the locals and it is not allowed to stay there overnight. I had to laugh. In the Netherlands I am just normal… At least my length. My body is still that of an Olympic Weightlifter.

Soul Sisters…

They told me some amazing stories during the walk. The one I remember most vividly is that of when they were young they both had the dream of marrying a boy from the same village so they can stay together forever. And so they did… Still together as best friends in the same village…

Well if that isn’t the most beautiful and romantic story you have ever heard I just don’t know anymore…

True soul sisters and they found a way to stay together trough all of the difficult times and conflict the country has known…

The rest of the day we spend on the porch and drank some rice wine. Moly has secretly gotten me a gift gift for my birthday. A handmade scarf she made herself. It is just a gem. But what she didn’t realize, is that spending my day with her, having lunch with her family, drinking wine was the best gift I could ever have…

Even when the little kids asked me if I was in an accident because my entire body was covered in Thanaka. I was completely sunburned by now. And it was the only thing that helped.

I had to laugh a bit.

No I am fine haha. It is just a sunburn.

Time passes on…

Like I always say… Time is the most precious commodity in the world. It can’t be stopped or bought… And you can only spend it once…

That makes the rest of the day even more special. Victoria showed up at the restaurant with the biggest birthday cake I have ever had. Literally I never had such a big one! My name was on it and even a camera. How in the name of god could she have fixed that so quickly!

Time can maybe never be stopped. But these are memories I will forever carry with me…

End of my main objective…

The rest of my remainder of my time I continued photographing as much I could find of the local villages and there was gas in my motorbike. I you have any clue how difficult that is. Normal street photography rules don’t apply if you step into a different world. Not if you want to tell their real story and to be honorable about your work at the same time. Photographs are always given…

The story is also far from over…

Villages with dragon hats, got stung by a bee in my eye, got lost again…

But at one point I had to travel back…

Back to the biggest city of the country…

Back to the former capital…

I shed a little tear when I said goodbye and off I went, back into the night bus…

But it was not all bad. Met up with Sandar again and also gave me a birthday present and took me out for dinner. My third birthday party!!!

Had some amazing conversations with Natalia which I have also met in Yangon. And also Tyler my beer guzzling Australian buddy.

Time to relax after. After all my Holiday sort of started now I was done…

So Cris, will you ever come to the “you are the richest man in the world” part?

I will no worries…

If you have made it this far you have sincerely earned it…

Thank you for that…

The story so far sounds amazing. And honestly by itself it is a once in a lifetime experience. And I could already measure my richness in just this trip. But you probably have discovered that richness for me is not in money…

One of the topics discussed during the lunch is also being proud of who you are and that it is allowed to let it be part of your story… And also that it is allowed to be proud of yourself.

If I look at my life in retrospect I have plenty to be proud of and not in an arrogant kind of way. But I have never stood still for real about that. I mean I know it, but I also know nothing more than grinding… Working hard… Because in my monkey mind that is the only way to achieve my dreams…

My dad dying…

So let me tell you a little bit about myself…

My dad dying was and is still a big reason why I do what I do. Maybe it is also my souls path. But still…

I was only three years old when it happened but thinking of it now makes me remember his funeral very vividly… His coffin, how hard I cried, and the people I sought comfort with.

After my dad died my stepfather did something so atrocious to one of my family members we had to run away in an instant and were literally without a home for a while…

Of course sleeping at your grandparents and uncle at one point is still a roof. But still it’s not a good and healthy way to grow up.

When our family has been through many court sessions and other things we finally found a place for ourselves in the worst neighborhood of the city I lived in.

Waking up from gunshots… Stepping over junkies in the morning to grab my bike to go to school… No money…

The mailman even got beat up. And my gym owner learned me how to shave.

Growing up like that with literally nothing. I was so driven to make most of my life. That of course came with a shitload of mistakes. But the drive was always there. Working, training hard, studying. All at the same time. Too bad days only contained 24 hours… I made myself a promise to escape that life if it was the last thing I did.

And so I did…

I did so many things I am proud of but these are the ones I want to mention.

I achieved something later in age in Olympic Weightlifting I thought I would never do when I picked up my first barbell when I was fifteen.

And became an successful IT engineer at one of the best companies in my country. The same company also gave me the opportunity to follow my dreams to become a photographer and work part time for them.

Even learned to play three instruments and played in an awesome metal band and did some awesome shows.

And now, traveling the world…

With my camera…

As a storyteller, meeting nothing but beautiful souls along the way…

How in gods name can I not be the richest man in the world?…

~ Cristian

Some special mentions I have to make after this story. And if I forgot you. Don’t worry. You are indeed in my heart.

Victoria. Moly. Sandar. Natalia. Sai Arkar Min Tun. William. Marina. Manuela. Stephan. Leonard. Kaitlin. Nick. Lukas. Tyler. Luiza. James. Batman. Sky… My friends back-home. Tino & Alina. Wing. Eelco.

Without you nothing of this was possible.

*Note: Some photographs below. Working on these kind of projects is hard and is not free despite it is super cool to do. And also shooting analog makes it even more expensive and difficult. I still have to work on the side you know… I know my art is not affordable for everyone but there are so many way to support me. Share my name. Share a post or article. Buy a digital print which is cheaper. The options are endless. But please do not distribute my photographs without my consent. In the end when I have developed everything and the editing process will be done it will be up as a project and some handmade, high-end fine art prints will also be available.*

Some phone snaps…

Featured on Emulsive

Hey everyone!

I couldn’t think of a better start of the weekend than seeing my ongoing and ever changing project, Neshama Sheli being featured on the Emulsive website!

Go check it out here!

Emulsive is one of the coolest analog photography websites out there. And being on it makes me super happy.

Thanks again for giving me a stage, EM.

While you are at it. There is only three days left on my IndieGoGo crowdfunding campaign. Which can be found here.

Every little helps me making future projects possible.

~ Cristian

Funding upcoming photography project print sale.

Hey everyone!

I have started a IndieGoGo to help fund my upcoming project in Myanmar.

Prints are on sale and are all signed. And there are so many other ways to support me.

Go check it out here! :)

~ Cristian

Featured on the JCH website.

Hey everyone,

Quick little update. I am featured on the Japan Camera Hunter website.

You can find the article here.

Also. I am working hard to update my own website with newest editions to my Israel and Palestinian territories work.

- Cristian