Porto Ercole / Argentario.
proprio ieri sera una mia amica mi raccontava di come la madre, una donna che era sempre stata energica e attiva, abbia ora difficolta' ad accettare di non essere piu' in grado, ad una certa eta', di fare le stesse cose che faceva fino a poco tempo fa. la vista peggiora, i riflessi non reagiscono piu' con la stessa velocita' di una volta, le energie diminuiscono e a volte non tornano piu'. non so se la mia generazione reagira' allo stesso modo al passare degli anni, visto che i malesseri e i disagi creati da una vita stressante e da lavori sedentari iniziano ora molto prima che in passato - vedo pero' che la generazione dei miei genitori, quella generazione che e' sopravvissuta alla guerra e al dopoguerra, che ha passato la gioventu' a ricostruire la societa' che noi abbiamo trovato, negli anni '60, ha forse piu' difficolta' a passare da una vita nella quale si e' sempre "fatto" qualcosa, ad una vita dal ritmo piu' lento, nella quale c'e' troppo tempo per pensare, riflettere, aspettare.
ricordo il racconto di questo pescatore - da giovane aveva seguito l'amore che da Amalfi lo aveva portato a Porto Ercole, e ora, ormai troppo anziano per uscire in mare, passava il tempo a rammendare le reti, un lavoro certosino, di pazienza, che nessuno dei giovani vuole fare piu'.
mentre parlava pensavo alla metafora di quella massa di reti - spesso da giovani non si ha tempo per dipanare masse di pensieri, per trovare la falla insidiosa di un groviglio di sensazioni, si lascia il mucchio dov'e' pensando sempre di avere tempo, dopo, per mettere tutto a posto. oppure sperando che qualcuno lo faccia per noi.
poi un giorno ti svegli e vedi che il mucchio e' sempre li, non lo ha toccato nessuno, e chiede sempre di essere messo a posto... allora ti siedi, tanto ormai non hai nient'altro di meglio da fare, e piano piano allarghi i fili, forse riesci anche a rammendare qualche buco, se non altro per poter dire "ah, ecco cos'era che si era strappato..."
(ho scelto di "annacquare" i colori perche' come tante cose, anche i contrasti e la brillantezza di tante cose che vediamo sbiadisce con il tempo)
Porto Ercole / Argentario.
in my generation signs of premature aging start relatively early - maybe it's the stressful life we lead, maybe the sedentary jobs, maybe the food we eat and the air we breathe, who knows - I see many friends and colleagues who - relatively speaking - are often in worse health than their parents. so maybe when my generation will reach retirement age we will feel like we have been there already for a long time...
the generation of my parents however, the generation who survived WW II and the years after the war, the generation who spent their youth rebuilding the society I was born into, the booming '60s, this generation has considerably more trouble accepting that age is catching up with them and health (physical and mental) is receding. it's hard to accept that - after having spent your life "doing" things, creating, building, fixing stuff - now you're no longer able to do the same. nothing to fix, no energy to "make", just too much time to think, reflect, ponder.
I remember this man's story: as a young fisherman he had followed his heart and left Amalfi for Porto Ercole, settling down there definitely. now, too old to be out at sea, he would spend his days mending fishing nets, a task that young fishermen would not or could not do anymore.
when he was telling me his story I was drawn to the metaphor of those nets heaped around him - when we are young we often have no time to mend the mess we get into, to sort out masses of thoughts or feelings, to find the fault in a heap of tangled events or emotions. we put them aside, thinking that there will be time, later, to tidy up, or hoping that someone else will do it for us.
then one day you wake up and you realize that that "stuff" is still there, no one touched it, let alone did anything with it... and now you think that maybe it's time, that you don't have anything better to do anyway, that maybe now you can sit down and try to detangle the mass, maybe even find the fault, the hole, the knot... even if it's only to say "ah, that's what is was in the end..."
(I deliberately went for these washed-out colours because I felt they matched better the mood of the fading out of contrast and vividness that the scene made me think of)
Critiques | Translate
mjw364 (4038) 2013-01-12 3:51
I like this image very much. I like the slight rim lighting of the man's hat and the way the ropes leading up from the boats behind him appear to be draped over his shoulder as if he is dragging the fleet of ships behind him and has stopped to repair the nets before continuing with his journey. Just as with your story we all have to stop and take stock and maybe look at the mess we left, or untangle it as best we can before we can carry on down life's road.
In the last year I lost my father and I reached 50 both events cause for some reflection. A year ago I understood, as I watched my father pass, that it is your body that let's you down in the end (may father was so full of life he didn't want to go) and we need to understand that, so that we can do what we can while we can before we age. I understand this very well now one year later I have developed rheumatoid arthritis and my body is slowly beginning to let me down. But while I am able I will embrace every opportunity to live my life to the full. The past is firmly in the past and I can only live now and shape my future. The knots in my nets I don't waste energy on. If I were this man I would be turned around looking out to sea wondering where do I want to go today?
Great image. Great story.
rbassin (11381) 2013-01-12 4:12
une très belle scène, bravo pour ce cadrage qui met en scène ce monsieur dans environnement plein de détails et d'info.
carlo62 (13544) 2013-01-12 6:26
è sempre un piacere vederti, stavolta, più di altre, anche leggerti.
Un pensiero molto profondo il tuo e lo condivido, stò già iniziando a sentire il cambiamento.....
La foto, collegata al tuo discorso, è ben centrata, compreso la leggera desaturazione.
dkmurphys (37419) 2013-01-12 7:36
So simple, yet so beautiful. A genuine everyday scene, well spotted!
ikeharel (38090) 2013-01-12 8:02
How about that? Cristina, are they all do the nets when too old to sail out at sea for fishing?
Nice collected a profile POV on him, sitting on a red plastic tank, and close to water.
Pleasent to look at, salute.
holmertz (27216) 2013-01-12 8:42
This is a beautiful street-shot, or rather quay-shot, and a very touching and wise note to go along with it. Picture and words complement each other very well and together they provide one of the more meaningful entries on TE today. Mind you, the picture is highly enjoyable on its own too, a fine portrait of an old man at work.
Have a nice weekend,
Bartleby (12765) 2013-01-13 8:35
I like the peaceful mood in this photo of yours. Especially the somewhat muted tones. Did you do anything colorwise? And the net is an apt metaphor too. Great shot!
SnapRJW (19188) 2013-01-14 2:09
Hello cristina - You've done a really good job here. There is such a lot going on and yet the main subject is quite distinct from the BG. Do you think that is a result of the FL you used? I love your theme and the fact that this shot shows an elderly man who still has life to live. Good ideas too with the faded colours, they work really well. Have a lovely week and warm regards Rosemary
CLODO (24902) 2013-01-14 2:10
A long and interesting note to underline the picture. Now, we don't mend, we throw away and buy new articles. he is fully absorrbed by the work he has performed for many years, a needle in the mouth. I am astonished by his coat, which is not in the mood of the work.....
Nice backlighted portrait in action
daddo (18635) 2013-02-26 4:17
Ciao cara Cristina. I enjoyed reading your meaningful note. So much in it of my father and me in it. He belongs to the generation you spoke of, the tireless generation where the women washed clothes by hand, bedsheets included and the men were able to fix radios, motorcars, mend shoes, pots and pans, grow vegetables, fruit, keep bees etc. And now we watch them going one by one into the endless night. As for this gentleman, it's good to see him doing things, still feeling the sun on his back, hearing the cry of the seagull, still being useful. Better than rotting in an old people's home. The fingers are not as swift, the eyes not as bright, but all he knows is to keep plugging on. The photo fills me with both sadness and affection. Ciao. Klaudio.
- Copyright: cristina pacciarella (papera) (13760)
- Genre: People
- Medium: Color
- Date Taken: 2011-03-20
- Categories: Daily Life
- Camera: Nikon D80, Nikkor 16-85mm f/3.5-5.6G ED VR AF-S DX
- Exposure: f/6.3, 1/500 seconds
- More Photo Info: view
- Photo Version: Original Version
- Theme(s): when we get old [view contributor(s)]
- Date Submitted: 2013-01-12 3:31