876409
Fernando
@fernandoferreira #876409
Brazilian Photographer living in Coonoor, Tamil Nadu.
278 Follower 155 Following
BW tea plants
Morning tea with my sweetheart and a gorgeous view.
Truck art in Coonoor, India.
Sweetie on her bicycle
Have some tea
The pub at dusk
Garden exploration today
Garden exploration
My Monday Morning Top 9 on @rodeodotclub featuring @farzanzare.eth, @o-gant, @fernandoferreira, @astromarkc, @hollowsun, @soniccc, and others
Fyodor Dostoevsky, Netochka Nezvanova
In 2008, I had the chance of shooting one of my childhood idols, Robson Reco. Only recently have I noticed that the gentleman depicted in that statue is none other than Mahatma Gandhi. And here I am now in India. Life is funny. Robson is one of the main names from the 90s scene. I had posters of him glued on my bedroom walls. It was crazy to shoot a full interview with him. Ten years later, he tried to fight me in a party. That got me pretty disappointed, of course. Got me thinking about the "never meet your idols" thing. He apologized later on, and we went back to being friends. Noseslide near Ibirapuera Park, Sao Paulo.
Seen on twitter
This is one of the earliest photos I took in Sao Paulo after moving from Rio de Janeiro. It still has a special place in my heart because I managed to do what I`m always trying: emulate the 90s skateboard photography I grew up seeing in the magazines. Gian Nacaratto with a switch backside tailslide at this crusty bank on the south side of Sao Paulo city.
It's too close to see it;
it's too subtle to understand;
it's too simple to accept;
it is too good to believe.
it's too subtle to understand;
it's too simple to accept;
it is too good to believe.
I'm 85％ melancholic! Check out your own temperament analysis by pressing the button below.
Words to live by.
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Daily commute
Now if possibility outruns necessity, the self runs away from itself, so that it has no necessity whereto it is bound to return¬¬¬ – then this is the despair of possibility. The self becomes an abstract possibility which tires itself out with floundering in the possible…more and more things become possible, because nothing becomes actual. At last it is as if¬ everything were possible – but this is precisely when the abyss has swallowed up the self.
Soren Kierkegaard, The Sickness Unto Death¬
Soren Kierkegaard, The Sickness Unto Death¬
