tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39553084020931864382011-12-23T23:40:00.753ZBartosz Nowickihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14266944379095157272noreply@blogger.comBlogger21100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955308402093186438.post-43872001622607036122007-11-23T20:25:00.000Z2008-12-11T09:27:45.931Z<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" >It is natural, when you live in environment filled by photographers, to become one of their subjects. Strange feeling it is at the beginning. You used to photograph people, and you used to work with them until they forget about your camera, until their impassivity . Strange feeling it is, to be on the other side of the mirror. Because you think like a photographer, and sometimes you can't keep your mouth shut. Photographers, I, don't like to hear how do they suppose to work, at the time of 'doing it'... They, I, do not like to hear "look there is a photograph" or [maybe more] "do this, do that"...</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" >Finally, but it is taking time, you are forgetting about your illnes - 'he know what he is doing' you think 'he is the photographer, isn't he?' Stupid enough I love pictures taken of me by others...<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DxH7j8ZfrqA/R0dZmTICBKI/AAAAAAAAABk/HSIEbcbdxqw/s1600-h/2044389841_1ebc5bec98.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DxH7j8ZfrqA/R0dZYTICBJI/AAAAAAAAABc/wLO0FhBnQe0/s1600-h/1588702445_a7afb11967.jpg"><br /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DxH7j8ZfrqA/R0dY_TICBII/AAAAAAAAABU/-xgqpah6EiE/s1600-h/tat3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DxH7j8ZfrqA/R0dY_TICBII/AAAAAAAAABU/-xgqpah6EiE/s400/tat3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136171744528303234" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:78%;" > by Luca Giacosa</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DxH7j8ZfrqA/R0dZYTICBJI/AAAAAAAAABc/wLO0FhBnQe0/s1600-h/1588702445_a7afb11967.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DxH7j8ZfrqA/R0dZYTICBJI/AAAAAAAAABc/wLO0FhBnQe0/s400/1588702445_a7afb11967.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136172174025032850" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:78%;" >by Joni Karanka</span><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DxH7j8ZfrqA/R0dZmTICBKI/AAAAAAAAABk/HSIEbcbdxqw/s1600-h/2044389841_1ebc5bec98.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DxH7j8ZfrqA/R0dZmTICBKI/AAAAAAAAABk/HSIEbcbdxqw/s400/2044389841_1ebc5bec98.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136172414543201442" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">by Maciek Dakowicz</span></span><br /></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3955308402093186438-4387200162260703612?l=b71.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Bartosz Nowickihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14266944379095157272noreply@blogger.com39tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955308402093186438.post-82346479754938233502007-11-22T23:02:00.000Z2007-11-23T00:17:20.071Z<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:times new roman;">My English is crap or not good enough, however you call it. I decide to try to write my blog in this language because my friends, mates, contacts, people I know lets say, can't understand the </span><a style="font-family: times new roman;" href="http://b13.ownlog.com/"> old stuff</a><span style="font-family:times new roman;">. I'm not killing it. I have to feed two kids now and I can handle it [hopefully].</span></span><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3955308402093186438-8234647975493823350?l=b71.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Bartosz Nowickihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14266944379095157272noreply@blogger.com2