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ninh binh, vietnam

 

 

 

 

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ho chi minh city

 

 

 

 

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myeodong, seoul, south korea

 

 

 

 

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con dao, vietnam

 

 

 

 

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thinking out loud

 

 

 

 

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washington dc

 

 

 

 

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new york city

 

 

 

 

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miami

 

 

 

 

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dubai

 

 

 

 

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i was wrong

 

 

 

 

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daily hikes

 

 

 

 

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five years and counting

 

 

 

 

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i love vietnam

 

 

 

 

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me and you

 

 

 

 

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you and me

 

 

 

 

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vientiane, laos

 

 

 

 

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ho chi minh city

 

 

 

 

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danang, vietnam

 

 

 

 

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nha trang, vietnam

 

 

 

 

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phnom penh, cambodia

 

 

 

 

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bangkok, thailand

 

 

 

 

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halong bay, vietnam

 

 

 

 

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you

 

 

 

 

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prohibited

 

 

 

 

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seoul, south korea

 

 

 

 

 

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cabbages and condoms

 

 

 

 

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HAPPY 4TH ANNIVERSARY BABY

 

 

 

 

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vi

 

 

 

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life on the river

 

 

 

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saigon morning

 

 

 

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a saigon love affair

 

 

 

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forever young

 

 

 

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just like a woman

 

 

 

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the lyre of myriad tunes
by the lu

i am a wanderer roaming back and forth
along the paths or high roads of the world
seeking my thrills from laughter and from tears,
in hours of mirth, at moments of distress,
when striving or while dreaming idle dreams.
i cherish life with all its woes and joys,
its heartbreaks and its horrors, its delights
and glories, its fierce passions, love or hate.
you tell me I am fickle, take to heart
no purpose, lack a doctrine -- but who cares?
i'm just a man who desperately loves,
who craves for beauty's myriad shapes and forms.
i borrow from the muse her fairy brush,
her wondrous lyre -- with both i'll paint, i'll sing
all beauty -- quiet, delicate, naive,
or noble, grandiose, heroic, proud,
the splendor of wild nature, poetry, thought,
a woman's lovely grace, bewitching charms,
the dance of light, the vivid sun of spring,
the gloom and hush on days of dismal rain,
the furor of the waves, of waterfalls,
the frailty of a petal on the wind,
the squalor of those spots where mud collects,
the bliss of hovering in pipe dreams and mists,
the zest for battle on the field of life:
i love it all and spellbound, grasp it all.
i want to mourn, on hearing cries of grief,
to feel inflamed by verses breathing fire.
i sing high praise and lift the spirit up,
or for some lovelorn girl i sigh and moan.
i echo that glad warble of a flute
or comfort with a bell's miraculous voice.
the muse lends me her lyre of myriad tunes,
her brush of myriad tints -- i want to play
a wizard working wonders, magic tricks
with all the sounds and colors of the earth.

 

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zaya

 

 

 

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jamia

 

 

 

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light

 

i actually did these last summer. they were part of a series of night pictures of washington dc.
my fellow photographer, greg, said that these photos look like something from postcards.
the pictures are too boring he said.

 

 

 

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melissa

 

 

 

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wanted: beautiful women

 

 

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adam

 

 

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miami


 

 

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clarity

 

 

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lee loo


 

 

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tempress

 

 

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2 steps forward


 

 

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and 1 step back

 

 

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portrait of a ballerina

 

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project vietnam

this april, i will be returning to vietnam. it has been over 10 years since my last visit. my primary reason to go back this time is to photograph the heart and soul of vietnam. suggestions and comments are welcomed. on hold.

 

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sophia

model: sophia / makeup: kymmy / hair: laty

 

 

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the executioner's song

to singapore

dear sir, a man commits a crime. does that make him a criminal? for how long? if that man also exhibits love for others, does charity, contributes positively to his society, is he still a criminal? when does he stop being a criminal and become a man again? or does he ever? if, say, he commits a crime that is so heinous and that demonstrates he no longer possesses any qualities of being human or humane, can he ever become a man again? now, is the crime which mr. van tuong nguyen committed so heinous that he should be banished from humanity? those who say it is, should consider whether they too possess the qualities of being human and humane. playing utilitarian games with humanity does not make a society great. it merely disguises the barbarism underneath a veil of enlightenment. singapore may be a rich nation, but it is morally and ethically bankrupt. sincerely, long nguyen.

 

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on photography

susan sontag argues that "photographs furnish evidence. something we hear about, but doubt, seems proven when we're shown a photograph of it. in one version of its utility, the camera record incriminates. starting with their use by the paris police in the murderous roundup of communards in june 1871, photographs became a useful tool of modern states in the surveillance and control of their increasingly mobile populations. in another version of its utility, the camera record justifies. a photograph passes for incontrovertible proof that a given thing happened. the picture may distort; but there is always a presumption that something exists, or did exist, which is like what's in the picture. whatever the limitations (through amateurism) or pretensions (through artistry) of the individual photographer, a photograph -- any photograph -- seems to have a more innocent, and therefore more accurate, relation to visible reality than do other mimetic objects. virtuosi of the noble image like alfred stieglitz and paul strand, composing mighty, unforgettable photographs decade after decade, still want, first of all, to show something 'out there,' just like the polaroid owner for whom photographs are a handy, fast form of note-taking, or the shutterbug with a brownie who takes snapshots as souvenirs of daily life. while a painting or a prose description can never be other than a narrowly selective interpretation, a photograph can be treated as a narrowly selective transparency. but despite the presumption of veracity that gives all photographs authority, interest, seductiveness, the work that photographers do is no generic exception to the usually shady commerce between art and truth. even when photographers are most concerned with mirroring reality, they are still haunted by tacit imperatives of taste and conscience."

 


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diaspora

photo courtesy of united nations high commissioner for refugees
pulau bidong, malaysia - circa 1978

me, mother, and brother